Webster doesn’t want you to know that he is actually a midget.

Sorry Webster, but the public has a right to know.

I’ve received many e-mails regarding the artistic magic behind my last post. Here’s one I received from B.F. Bongripton III from Pasedena, Wyoming:


Dear WWDWYTK… AB,


First of all, I am a huge fan of SomethingQuigley.com. I visit about 37 times a day and I think that Ruggy is just the dreamiest thing on the internet ever. ANYWHO… I was wondering how you do all that crazy magic with the pictures? Are you some sort of magic crazy wizard sorceror or something crazy like that?? Hit me back.

Love you forever,

B.F. Bongripton III


Thanks for the letter, B.F. The thing that people have to understand is that it’s a hard job being part of the WWDWYTK… AB (as the kids call it) design staff, but it is also very rewarding. The design staff works once a week for anywhere between five to twenty-five minutes to bring you the quigliest things that come to mind. This week I am pleased to show you just a peak of what goes on behind the curtains here at SomethingQuigley.com. The picture below diagrams for you how, with the power of Paint, you can take two seperate photos and bring them together to make it look like a real life conversation


Amazing isn’t it? As you can see, it is not all fun and games when you are writing for a serious online publication, it takes hard work, dedication, breakfast at Ihop, magic testicles, a clean urine sample, at least a black belt, a tall pointy wizard hat, and a lot of spaces to make your column look longer.



brothatom out

(Please tune in next week when we announce the winner of the date with Ruggy.)

I know we’ve all be missing Isomorphic’s classic comics entitled “Boy and His Blob”, but here’s a little something to fill the void…


i agree with that dude’s weiner……… its just not the same

More like Boston Tea Farty…

Here’s the plan: Warm up my time machine for one last hoorah and travel to the biggest party of all time, the Boston Tea Party. I never paid much attention in my history classes, but I did remember that it was a costume party. I put on the most stereotypical indian costume I could find and I was on my way to 1773. Once again, I was extremely dissappointed. The Boston Tea Party wasn’t a party at all! It was just a bunch of angry dudes with annoying New England accents throwing shit all over the place. In disgust, I shouted things like, “Where is a Boston massacre when you need one” and “Go Yankees!”. Soon after, I grabbed my comlimentary case of tea, and I was on my way

brothatom out
(while i was in 1773, I bet on the Patriots for the 2004 Superbowl, they didn’t know what I was talking about, but they took my money anyway… I guess in the end I was the one that was hosed. Oh yeah… brothatom, brothatom, brothatom, brothatom, brothatom, brothatom, brothatom, brothatom. Take that!)

Updated To Do List:
1. Travel to San Francisco to out DJ the Bizarro Brothatom
2. Find, Eat, and Kill the rabid croccon that killed my mentor

Allow me to explain…

Here I am working hard at at my job when I decide to take a break and google some things that come to mind. After I googled crocodile and racoon, I entered in my name, Brothatom. Little did I know, in .05 seconds my life would change forever…
The bad news
As you can see, Bizarro brothatom is a club music DJ on a San Francisco radio station that has been sent here from Czechoslovokia to steal my alias. I’ve decided the only thing I have left to do to regain my status as the one and only Brothatom is to upgrade my DJ beat-mixin’ skills, travel to San Francisco, and beat the Bizarro brothatom at his own game… DJ Tiggity-tock style.
For those of you who don’t know, DJ Tiggity-tock was a prominant DJ and my mentor back in the late 90’s, he had many hits including “Smells Like Fish” and “The Barnyard Club”. Unfortunately, DJ Tiggity-tock was eaten, along with all his funky beats, by a rabid crocodile-racoon hybrid. I have made a vow that I will one day seek out this vicious beast and eat it along with any funky dance beats the croccoon may have recorded.
Below you can see the croccoon that ate my mentor in its natural habitat.

the real brothatom out

So I get my time machine up and running so I can travel back 15 million years and meet some bad-ass dinosaurs and tell them what life is like in the future. When I finally got there the only T-Rex I can find is a vegetarian and he doesn’t speak any english. You can imagine my dissapointment…

When I got back into my time machine I realized I set it for 15 million years in the future… (not to be continued)

A Lesson on the Zing:
The zing was invented for use as a follow-up to a well-timed, clever insult. It is considered the conversational version of a poke in the eye after a mule kick to the nuts. After you break a person’s enthusiasm, you bury them even further. The very first zing ever recorded in history was made be an early homo erectus 750,000 thousand years ago and it went as follows:
Caveman 1: Me make big fire!!
Caveman 2: Big flamer make big fire
Caveman 3: Zing>

As you can probably see, caveman 2 implied that caveman 1 was a homosexual, and caveman 3 poured salt in the wounds. Recently I hear people using the zing at unzingworthy moments in conversation. Here’s an example of a zing you may hear today:
Dude 1: You guys want to go to Canada?
Dude 2: Your mom is Canadian… ZING.
What was just displayed for you was an example of a poorly utilized zing for three main reasons. First off, the zing should be recognized and announced by someone other than the zinged or the zingee. Zinging your own zinger is only acceptable when no one else is around, or it is failed to be recognized by a third party. The second mis-zing in dude 2’s statment is the total lack of cleverness. Turning around an innocent statement into a “Your mom” joke is fine and dandy, but most unzingworthy. The third thing wrong with this zing is dude 1 actually wanted to go to Canada. Who goes to Canada? Thats embarrassing enough.
Over the years, many phrases have tried to replace the zing as the primary insult follow-up. Such phrases include “you got served”, “boom pow suprise”, and most recently “eat my thunder”. While these are still used quite frequently, they do not highlight the most clever insults quite as well as the ultimate weapon… the zing.
So please, practice at home people, but lets keep them sacred. Save the zing.
brothatom out
(If you or someone you know have been zinged, and are in need of counseling, please call (800) ZIN-GED1)

Hey there flagpole sittas, welcome to the medical edition of “WWDWYTK… AB!!”. Have you ever feared that someone might be trying to catch you doing something embarrassing, then air it on TV for the world’s amusement? Are you afraid that while pleasuring yourself in the privacy of your own room, a film crew from the new MTV show “Caught Ya Whackin’ ” will knock your door down with every single one of your living relatives behind them? Are those Queer Guys after you? Well my friend, you might have a severe case of realitaphobia (ree-A-li-ta-PHOBE-ee-A). The first case of realitaphobia was diagnosed in 2001, when a man went on a crazed, shooting rampage because he thought he was being “Punk’d” at a toll booth. Fortunately, we have Dr. Ape live via satelitte to better explain this disorder. Dr. Ape, what is realitaphobia?
Well Tom, a realitaphobic is a person who is afraid of doing anything that might be considered embarassing, in fear that it will one day be on a t.v. show that pokes fun at everyday people such as America’s Funniest Videos with Tom Bergeron. The best way to avoid developing this order is to never watch MTV and to feed me bananas.

Thank you Doctor. The reason that we had to speak to Dr. Ape via satelitte is because often times when I ask him a question he throws poop at me. This is also the reason why I rarely trust his expert advice. In this instance, however, I happened to experience a brief realitaphobia moment. While I was driving in my car rocking out to my “Best of Sheryl Crow” CD, I remembered the VH1 TV show “Motormouth”, a show that tricks motorists into singing along to selected tunes while taping them. Immediately, I pulled to the side of the road and thoroughly swept my car for cameras and such. Once satisfied, I was on my way, but it wasn’t until later that I realized how much of a spaz I was. So remember what Dr. Ape said, do not watch MTV. Am I even making sense anymore?

Brothatom out

(please do not try to reach Dr. Ape for psychiatric evaluation unless you have a lot of bananas or like being humped by a gorilla… you’ve been warned. Also, Sheryl Crow is an excellent singer/song writer and I recommend her music.)

Quigley is everywhere. It is all around us, even now in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, when you go to church, when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.

Welcome to the kickoff party for my column, there is plenty of exotic cheeses and punch on the table, help yourself.

There’s a word I know. The word is randomcize. Whats it mean? Well, besides finger-painting, it is probably the best thing to do when you get bored. Basically all it takes is somebody besides you and some words. Yeah, its that easy. Check it out…

brothatom: over there on the table!! “Fran”: huh?

That was a real life reaction to being randomcized. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Give it a try sometime. But before you do, here’s another example of being randomcized:

brothatom: Shouldn’t you be at k-mart or something? “Alfred”: What?

These are actual occurences, and it honestly never gets old. Oh look at this we have a visitor!!! It’s Donald Trump’s dancing dismembered head!!! Wow, what a suprise that was. Too bad it wasn’t like Tea Leoni or something like that.

Well thats all I have to say to you for now. Come back some other time for more stuff and dismembered, bouncing head ridiculousness. Once I receive my signing bonus for this gig, the heads might even start having bodies. If you would like to see real heads complete with bodies, write your e-mails to thewebmaster(at)somethingquigley.com.

Brothatom out

(the names of the randomcized have been changed to protect the innocent. The email address given has been changed to protect the webmaster, who is not as innocent)