Welcome Actual Readers

Hello chuckle loving masses, we are glad to have received you, your laugh organs, no doubt all wrinkled and shivering from the chuckles you've received from dangerous exposure to the Greatest Educational Document produced by man, 'Hy Times'.

On our blog, you will see everything from horrific outtakes, to musings, to the 'craft of the month' (courtesy of Hana). This is like, you know when you finish a bowl of cereal, and you look in, and you see a portal to a universe filled with constantly refilling, hyperlinked and properly formatted cereal bowls? Well this is something like that. 

Here are a couple of my personal favorite entries:

How to See Titties Everywhere: A Hyena Craft

Poop Jokes: An Eager Defense

British Porn

Perfectly Serviceable Ways to Utilize a Dominatrix in your Story! (McSweeney's Rejected!)

George Washington is Georgeous

Beloved Dick Jokes!

Gentle Justin Claims this Blog for the Motherland!

And this fluff Berkley Beacon article from Ages Past! (Not an Entry, but Sorta Cool, in a weird way)

Anything I missed? Comment on the post and I'll add it. In anywhoo, welcome one and all. Your comments are appreciated here, and any mention of comic books will result in a wacky argument with this blog's 'beloved' nerd members. Except for the mysterious entity known as 'Chopper Dave', the blogs tend to be signed by the writer in the tags. And remember. Throughout it all, chuckles live on and on. AND ON.

And, by the by, I just want to congratulate Hyena on getting its first Evvy nomination for Hy Times. Although we rub our chins in thought at what to do now, we will simply quote Abraham Lincoln from his speech at Gettysburg: 'WOOOOOOOOO!'

P.S.: There was a 9/11 Entry by Molly Coombs in Hy Times deemed TOO OFFENSIVE to print on paper, and we've decided that only the more resilient format of the INTERNET could handle it. 

Let's hope to see it on here soon.

George Washington was both competent and attractive.

Dinosaur Porn (or, Tea-Bag Rex)

No one should be greeted by a photo of dinosaurs humping.

Unless you are entering into a dinosaur threesome, and you are in fact a dinosaur.

This text is meant to protect you from the horrors to come.

But isn't pictoral pornography the game of the boor? Let me instead tittilate you with steamy tales of dinosaur affection. Shall we begin?

She enters the clearing, the blood of the mighty stegosaurus swarmed about her face. KRAWWW!, she screams sensually, her heaving scaly tail swinging about, her leathery eyelids seductively open all the way to reveal a delectable dead reptilian eye. Paul wasn't ready for this. After all, he was just a young virgin Pizzasaurus Boy who never knew delivering this freshly killed carcass would get him to sleep with the hottest ODILBW (Older Dinosaur I'd Like to Breed With) this side of the Cretacious. Then he remembered that the cretacious is a time period, and not necessarily a landscape, and thus cannot have sides. This thought promptly killed his erection.

The Odilf however was not stopped by this, and begun a striptease for the boy. However, as dinosaurs do not wear clothes, she prompltly commenced the stripping off of her skin, to reveal the blood and muscles underneath. It trickled through her, her throbbing veins, her small intestine, inviting the young pizzasaurus to enter the mighty realm of vaginal dinosaur intercourse! 'KRAWW', she cried, more invitingly than before.

TO BE CONTINUED!

I hope you got off to that. Because there will someday maybe possibly be MORE TO COME!!!

Including 

-- The Ice Age! Is that at all arousing? The Ice Age?

-- Dinosaurs using hapless cavemen as anal beads

-- Raaaar! Raaaar! Raaar!

Tyrannosaurus Sex

one of these has one more bone than the other

UPDATE: The Proof is GONE!

I have bad news, all my dear, dewy-eyed Hyenalings with bold aspirations of Presidentship.
It would seem that, like a poorly-dressed thief who never brushes his hair in the night,

JONATHAN TERBUSH

has stolen the one and only copy of Hy Times Magazine!

Let me paint a picture of you, Hyenogs (you know, in the Hychine):

Imagine you're one "Jonathan 'Crazy Face' Terbush" and you've frittered away your precious afternoon losing at Super Smash Brothers to some attractive, witty female friend of yours who so kindly and graciously invited you into her pristine abode.

With no scholarly aspirations other than sucking as much dick as humanly possible in the next three to four years, you are unconcerned about your looming 6 p.m. class - I mean, fuck it, right? When your charming female companion has to cut the games short because, as a responsible, contributing member of society, she has to go to work, you give her some surly backsass and skulk along your merry way to the library, presumably to attempt reacharounds on unsuspecting nappers.

No one seems to enjoy the sensation of your cold, clammy hands on their genitalia, but you are undeterred and it isn't until 5:30 - remember, you have class in a mere half hour, at the TOP of the Tufte Building - that you realize something: You didn't print out 15 copies of the 13 page story (read: utter tripe) you have to pass out to your peers.

MATH TIME!

It costs $0.07 to print a page on any of the black and white printers on the Emerson campus.
Your story is 13 pages, and you need 15 copies.
That's 195 pages all told!
At $0.07 a page, that's going to cost you $13.65!

Is the Print/Copy Center open? No!
Do you have any money left on your card? Yes! $1.00!

So you're short $12.65 with a half hour left til class!
What do you do?

Remember that lovely, helpful girl from earlier in this tale? Out of the goodness of her large, welcoming heart, she agrees to print the pages out for you - free of charge, of course. Now, pushing through a 195 page print job isn't the sort of thing that generally goes unnoticed, but this girl is as benevolent as a saint, regardless of how feckless and foolish you are.

And how do you repay this kindness?
How can you truly show appreciation to this good samartian who risked her job to disseminate a story about cats that can talk?

PRO TIP: You wait until she's collating the stories (because yeah, she's totally going to do that too, because she's wonderful) and you steal the Hy Times proof out of her backpack! [ Ed. - Actually, it's a messenger bag, to be fair.]


Well, what can you do, HyTimers?
Let's raise a glass to Jon Terbush, the once and perpetual President of Hyena Comedy...


...and join me in smashing them in his smug little face.

I Have Proof!

After a night spent drinking tea and discussing the fickleness of the stock market, Jon and I are pleased to inform you - yes, you! - that the PROOF HAS ARRIVED. In my hot little hands, I hold the first (non-digital, non-PDF, non-disappointment-to-Rubinton) copy of Hy Times to see the light of day.

Let me tell you guys - it's beautiful. I cried a little when I picked it up, fortunately mostly into the neck of a very understanding member of the facilities staff who shared an elevator with me.

For all those curious: I'm keeping it in my room, under intense laser-guided security. My roommates and employees have strict orders preventing any and all interlopers from even catching a glimpse of this fabled magazine. If you think you have what it takes to be the next President of Hyena, I officially dare you to come get it.

Two helpful hints:
1. I live off-campus now, in the second alleyway off of the Chinatown main gate on Beach. I'll be home between 11 p.m. and 4 a.m.
2. My building codes and regulations are pretty weird, so your best plan of attack is to come naked, with money and jewels taped to your body. Just a suggestion.

For all of you (wisely) forgoing my challenge, enjoy this picture of myself, naked, holding the magazine proof!

Comedy or Hatred?

I'd have to say, without a shadow of a doubt, this is one of my favorite Hyena related anythings.

Screw Hylights! Screw Hy Times! Screw 'You Gonna be Suckin' Dick Tonight!' This is where its at!

Hyena: Comedy or Hatred!?

Well!? Which is it!?