The Re-Watchable Harold Ramis

by Brad Chad Porter


When a famous person dies in America there is a strange social reflex. It is a moment we share. Some of us make jokes seeking to capitalize on the attention. Some of us gush and otherwise publically grieve, despite our thousands of degrees of separation from the deceased, in order to puff up our sense of self importance. “If I speak eloquently and emotionally enough about the famous dead it’s almost as though we were really friends.”

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#AskHarland – Advice from a Grizzled Veteran of Five* Foreign Wars

by Harland R. DouglasChad McNaughton


As writer/comedians, we at LTB long for a way to be unique in this ever-expanding, vast sea of shit. But as total amateur idiots, we’re also not above hopping on the advice column bandwagon. Which probably doesn’t even exist. Anyway, we tried to get outside of the box with this thing, so for our experienced advisor, we went with the insane, hilarious, and extremely dangerous Harland Douglas – a homeless war vet who lives behind the warehouse where I work. In return for hot food and expired medicine, Harland has agreed to answer any questions that I pose to him.

These aren’t easy posts to write, so they’re going to be rare, as he’s a belligerently drunken sociopath who misses the taste of human blood the way I miss having a pretty girl’s foot in my mouth. So yes – he’s very difficult to work with. Basically, I scream the question to him and the actual advice gets dictated to me by Harland, yelling back from underneath his abandoned railroad car outside my office window.

So sit back and enjoy the sage advice of a man who once “ate an entire litter of puppies” just to prove it could be done. And if you need advice, just hit us up on Twitter with the hashtag #AskHarland or send an email to, and we’ll put his years of expertise in combat savagery and human suffering to the test. And now, here’s a lovesick reader and her reply from Harland..

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Cynicism Be Damned. Well, for 2min 53sec Anyway.

by Joel Decker

Little Tiny Brain can be cynical sometimes. Is it the fault of our generation, cruel women, knowing people less talented are making way more money than us or our good ol’ fashioned American sense of liberal entitlement going unfulfilled? All of those things, really.

It’s nice to stumble upon a psychological respite from weeks of bathing in the glorious angst that is True Detective and our own sense of self loathing. The above video is a great example of what can be accomplished when technological ingenuity, disregard for copyright law and talent meet. We’d probably accomplish the same thing if we had any knowledge of video production and a super cute and talented girlfriend who seems to be up for trying awesome things. Think that dude got the last one. Thanks a lot, good looking videographer bearded guy!

So take a break from your life for a couple minutes. We’ll be back to the special brand of “comedy” all twelve of you love tomorrow.

Thanks to Justin Baker.

CLASSLESS: Uninspiring Final Moments

by Chad McNaughton


Ronald Jenkins of Columbus, OH – 44yrs old: Dying from a case of full-blown bullet-in-the-stomach, Ronald had precious little time to make his last act on this Earth meaningful. Unfortunately, Ronald was a dirtbag and a criminal, and his death ended up being as pointless as his life. Because before bleeding out through the pulsating, crimson hole in his gut, Ronald managed one last, depraved act.

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It’s 2014. Stop Burning The Goddamn Popcorn.

Posted in the Break Room by Shift Manager Chester Harrington as seen by Joel Decker


Attention all.

A situation has been brought to my attention and I’m going to need all to comply with the following; please, stop burning the goddamn popcorn. If this doesn’t stop, you will be terminated. I’m not singling anyone out, but whenever the goddamn popcorn is burnt the entire office smells like deep fried abortion.

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Happy Presidents Day. I Guess.

by George Washington as told to Joel Decker


Happy Presidents Day, America. It has been quite some time since I’ve penned a missive with regards to the country I fathered. Though I ceased to exist in physical form in 1799, I’ve kept a watchful eye from the dimension you all will reside in once you too stop being “alive”. Life on Earth is nothing when compared to the postmortem utopia that is “Uncle Kenny Boom-Boom Wilson’s 4th Dimension Soul Receptacle/Waffle Shack”. Spoiler Alert! Uncle Kenny Boom-Boom Wilson is God’s real name. Also, the waffles are exquisite here. Exquisite.

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