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UPSETTING DAY

Upsetting Day: Vegemorphs

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UPSETTING DAY

Upsetting Day: Brendan McGinley’s Dogs of Glory! 🌭

Greetings, future civilizations of the next species to rule the earth (Magpies? I bet it’s magpies). Congratulations on finding and deciphering this article deep within the 1-900-HOTDOG archives here in the beautiful Mountains of Madness. You surely have questions about today’s video, ā€œDogs of Glory,ā€ a song ostensibly for children by Christian musician Jim Steager. I can contextualize it for you as the owner of a very smart puppy that is part Chihuahua, therefore at war with the entire physical world, and thus a presumable Christian.

I know it sounds like the rad battalion that will clinch Union victory in 2029’s Civil War II Da Streetz, but the dogs of glory are simply a metaphor in song for the devotion required to follow Jesus Christ. Steager wants listeners to trust and admire their savior with the same faith a dog would. Just not my dog, who will tow me three blocks to sniff poop, and pointedly ignores me when I tell him to stop barking at every living being in the universe.

Ah, sorry. He was the human version of…I guess the nearest phrase your language has for messiah is Death Migration Victor Prime. Jesus was a Judean carpenter with a side hustle as the Son of God. His message of peace has brought comfort to the billions blessed by the violent sacrifice required to spread it. 

It’s a forgivable misunderstanding, but Steager does not begin the video as a hybrid human-dog chimera. His face has been painted to resemble a dog’s by a talented artist, so that when children contemplate his performance, they will wither to know this world is broken. Only once their souls know true terror will they cry out for a savior, and they will become faithful servants of THE LORD THEIR GOD.

First off, I’m sorry that your ancestors’ bones made such delicious stock. Second, Steager’s awaiting eternal salvation, a feast of the soul given after you die. I’ve never met a dog who would turn down a bone now for the promise of two bones later, so mark these as the last fully human words Steager will ever sing.

Immediately after, at the 34-second mark, you can see his eyes flash with hidden knowledge when he beholds his new fursona staring back at him. Poor fool, his invitation is accepted, and his face-sac deflates slightly as The Dog of Glory pries him open from a side we cannot imagine. The paint is a veneer on a collapsed wall now. 

Yes, but never in a worldly manner. By donning the skin of a Christian Canine and howling the sacred invocation ā€œHallelujah,ā€ he had constructed a transformation spell in the name of Christ, and powered by the rocket fuel of children’s faith. I don’t care how you dress it up in pet shop sounds and facepaint, ā€œDogs of Gloryā€ is not a children’s song, except in the sense that adults can’t hear its backmasked message to shred flesh for the Blood God. It starts off as a beautiful meditation on faith you would play at the funeral for a beloved civic figure who died of Old Person’s Disease—suddenly it’s ripped open by the guttural cries of starving beasts. Steager has let trust in a higher being deceive him into chasing the invisible bone of salvation. 

Bewildered, Steager now cascades back and forth between dog and human skills. For the rest of the song, Steager is now a manimal.

It is actually better to be a dog than a human! The whole world is your toilet and strangers love you. You have no idea what an influencer is. Nobody tries to convince you to go to church, because they think you don’t have a soul. 

Watching a man’s personality disintegrate in real time, we realize they may be right. Before we’re one minute in, Steager spits hot fire about looking both ways before crossing the street, which is not a famous quality of dogs. My pooch is terrified of cars, yet frogger-lunges every busy corner. Perhaps Steager is a seeing-eye dog? Is that what this is now? God is blind and we are leading Him? 

Oh boy, just wait. God throws the stick of salvation into traffic as a test of faith, but also keeps Steager on the Leash of Love (not what it sounds like, unless it is). Then he’s let off-leash to dance a mad farewell to his humanity. Are you confused? I spent high school Friday nights at Catholic youth singalongs, and I am goddamn-dogman baffled.

Which brings us to another point in our Christian faith: God spelled backwards is dog, so…y’know. Right there, that whole thing. What does that mean for us in our lives with Jesus? Discuss quietly in groups while I slip out for definitely not a cigarette. 

But seriously, it’s like he’s losing his literacy as the dog side consumes him—

There it is. As Yrolg the Dog-Thing consumes his very being, he loses his ability to read, and can only pine forlornly for the Bible that once comforted him.

Basically, God’s love is the only true peace, but also anyone full of it is spiritually on fire and can only be soothed by the same cause of—I—you know, I’m still lost. Weren’t we just in a flowered pasture by a pond? Then a street, but now back at the water? Look, the best I can figure is Steager wrote this song while walking his dog to the park and back. 

Magpies, I don’t know what kind of theology you’ve constructed for yourselves, but I hope it doesn’t require you to constantly affirm that Nestfather is perfect. Frankly, I think it’s weird that His mighty wing will only shelter you if you praise His flawless plumage. I don’t have all the answers, but it seems to me that a perfect magpie deity would neither need nor want constant adulation from lesser birds. 

I’m going to be honest with you, magpies. There’s a reason my society has vanished from this earth. We’re so busy trying to become Dogs of Glory, we’ve let malevolent forces consume our abilities to read and reason.

I know, and the dumb part is we had actual dogs the entire time! Are there still dogs in the future? They’re great! You don’t need to pass a devotional test to be happy in their presence. My dog is an absolute jerk to other dogs and people and my cat and squirrels and birds and this rad wooden statue in my office he thinks is a burglar. Socially speaking, he’s as flawed as a person can be. But thanks to him I enjoy all the benefits Steager sings about, and I don’t have to die to receive them. I don’t need to convince myself my obnoxious dog is a perfect entity. He loves me right now, and keeps me from losing my goddamn mind every time Twitter tells me the Ku Klux Kaukus just approved $32b of my taxes for a migrant orphan trebuchet. 

Hunh. You know, now that I think about that makes so much more sense about His message and sacrifice. The only thing I can tell you about the historical Christ is that He definitely wasn’t a Chihuahua.

Brendan’s beyond saving, but you can still help out friend of the site and very funny comedian Vanessa Guerrero with an emergency donation.

Magpie credits: Ken Billington

Seanbaby and Brockway started 1900HOTDOG as a way to grift government processed meat subsidies, and along the way accidentally assembled the best comedy team in novelty phone number history. This week all articles are free in honor of the fantastic columnists that make this site a place to be treasured and feared in equal measure.

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UPSETTING DAY

Upsetting Day: Lydia Bugg’s Adult Clown Mouth Review! 🌭

Behind the scenes at 1900🌭, we often like to celebrate the fact that thanks to our Patrons, we no longer have to try and use sponsored links to sell lists of Amazon’s ten least erotic pet toys, guaranteed not to get your dog in a humping mood! It’s a little bit difficult for me to enjoy that victory, though. I’ve been writing branded content for so long I now have advertising Stockholm syndrome. So, in exchange for nothing but the joy it brings me, I brought a pitch for some good old fashioned branded content to the hotdog team. We don’t get any money if you purchase it, BUT we get to spread the word about the best Halloween costume, this one: 

Here’s a conversation that has happened somewhere in the world at some point:

Person 1: I’d like to be a clown for Halloween. 

Person 2: Whole clown, or just the head?

Person 1: Head only, I think…yes, the smiling, dead-eyed head of a clown. Surely someone sells that?

Products do not exist outside of the vacuum of consumer need. Someone wanted this. They wanted it to wear an expression that says, ā€œI’m a little bit frightened of my own existence.ā€ It doesn’t look like it’s happy to be the disembodied head of a terrifying clown. Its eyes read madness and maybe a touch of terror. Honestly, it’s giving me Florence Pugh at the end of Midsommar. 

The artist who got the note ā€œDesign a Halloween costume for just the head and mouth of a clown” couldn’t help but add their own feelings of dismay to the design. They were certain this was custom ordered by a puppet on a tricycle, and it shows. It would have been a cry for help if they thought help was out there.

In stumbling upon this costume, I’m a little worried I’ve discovered some secret code an evil society is using to communicate. There are too many upsetting details about this thing. For example, it’s not some weird glitch made by one company that ran out of ideas and made a cursed mistake. This costume is sold across multiple websites, and they always give it slightly different names, but those names always include the words ADULT CLOWN MOUTH

And I know since you people have been on the Internet just as much as I have, you immediately clocked that the suggested retail price for the costume is sixty-nine American dollars. That is not a coincidence; that is a message. No one is buying this thing for sixty-nine dollars. They always discount it to something in the thirty to forty dollars range, but they want you to see that 69 next to the adult clown mouth. It’s a required part of the advertising. 

Walmart advertising it as Clown Mouth Head is extra upsetting to me because it puts the mouth as the main feature of this costume. The idea of someone wanting to be only the mouth of a clown is way more upsetting than the idea that they want to be just the head. Oh no, I Googled mouth costume

Sorry, I’ve gotten off topic, where was I? Oh yes, adult clown mouth. We all know what adult means in the context of this Halloween costume, right? It’s the same context in which some book and video stores are also adult. I’ve been dancing around this topic for about five hundred words or so, but every man I showed this costume to immediately noticed the mouth hole is right at dick height.

Let’s do a deep dive into one particular website selling adult clown mouth, Oriental Trading Company. First of all, if you look at the other costumes they suggest when you view adult clown mouth, they are clearly all pervert costumes. 

Why would any well adjusted person want either of those looks? Someone out there can’t decide if they’re going to get railed by toast, Raggedy Andy, or a clown with human legs and a penis tongue this All Hallows’ Eve. It’s also got the most menacing product description I’ve ever read. 

Nope. No, I am not looking to get creative with creepy clown. When a clown jumps out at me during a haunted house, I’m not like, “sorry friend, not creative enough. Maybe try being a disembodied head next time?” Let’s read the rest of it:

You can make the mouth open and close, which according to this description, is funny. Probably not to the people that are going to get bitten by that clown but ok. Then, it wraps up with, “pants and shoes are not included.” At first, I thought that was ridiculous, but the pants and shoes are arguably the most appealing part of this costume. I would not be shocked to learn a large percentage of the people who purchased adult clown mouth thought they were getting an amazing deal on a pair of blue jeans and sneakers and were hoping to throw out the horrifying headpiece that comes with them. Weird shoe sale, but ok.  

Adult Clown Mouth has zero reviews, of course, because no one will admit that they purchased this thing, but it has one question. Since I have a lot of questions, I figured maybe the company had gotten back to someone on any of the myriad of things I think when I look at this costume. Things like “can it get me?” Or “are you sure it can’t get me?” I might also like to ask, “is it thinking about getting me?” You know, silly stuff like that.

Nobody asked any of my very pertinent questions, though. The one question was, “What are the measurements of this mask?” To which an auto response generated a generic size chart. So now there’s a woman who goes by Lorraine G. who, I hope to God, has figured out this is not a fun little mask unless she’s got a serious case of Jimmy Neutron head. 

Now is the time in the article where I reveal that unlike Lorraine G. I have purposely purchased the Halloween costume so that I can properly review it and hopefully sell it to you for no profit. It arrived in a crinkled up ball an unnaturally short amount of time after I ordered it. They were ready to get this thing out of the warehouse. 

My first discovery is that it does have armholes! Which is good for the use of the costume but bad for the creepiness level. Clown head with arms coming out of the ears somehow looks more like one of those horrible transformation sequences from The Thing than a clown head with legs does. If you leave it lying around the house, it will always fall into the most sinister smile position possible. I’m pretty sure it possessed my dog or at least taught her to copy its expression to frighten me. 

Another notable feature of the costume is that it does provide the user with handles behind the mouth so you can make it talk. Funny! It can say something like, “Why are you running? I am your friend. Look at my perfectly symmetrical teeth.” Funny stuff like that! 

The thing is, the handles are kind of a moot point because the costume has a disturbing sway to it. It’s constantly in motion as you move around inside of it, so if you’re walking, the clown’s mouth is slowly bouncing open and shut with your gait. It’s constantly chewing, adult clown mouth. So obviously, you’ll want to go out and purchase that right away. I heard there might be a clown head shortage this year. 

There weren’t any hidden messages stuffed inside the mouth. As far as I can tell, whatever it’s definitely communicating to a secret society of clown perverts is coming through the ads for it, not the actual product. I’ve investigated this costume at great personal expense, and I’m not talking about the 69 dollars I paid (I demanded to pay full price so my credit card bill would look silly. Funny!). I’m running the risk of being known forever as adult clown mouth girl. “Lydia Bugg, isn’t she the first woman to wear the adult clown mouth costume?” They’ll say a hundred years from now. I’m willing to live with that, though, in the noble name of sponsored content.


Seanbaby and Brockway started 1900HOTDOG as a way to grift government processed meat subsidies, and along the way accidentally assembled the best comedy team in novelty phone number history. This week all articles are free in honor of the fantastic columnists that make this site a place to be treasured and feared in equal measure.

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Haught Phart, who is the rest of the clown.

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UPSETTING DAY

Upsetting Day: Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde

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UPSETTING DAY

Upsetting Day: S Rob Magic

We all have our problems. I used to take SSRIs until one day I realized I could google ā€œtactical + anythingā€ and turn my mood completely around. 

Don’t abuse this. When your brain chemistry mutinies and you find yourself thinking ā€œI’m not suicidal, but if I could be cryogenically frozen and then just never unthawedā€¦ā€ Well, then it’s time to google ā€œtactical barbells,ā€ expecting only bars with absurd grips and getting so much more. 

I’m serious. Save this for special occasions and use it in moderation. Just like ketamine and Chinese lithium mines, you might go in for a good time and give your entire life to that hole. There’s a very real danger that you’ll push this too far and start, say, Amazon searching subgenres of books for the word ā€œtactical.ā€

You are rapidly approaching the point of no return. Instead of a quick joy-zap to kickstart the broken lawnmower that is your brain, you’re about to lose a whole week to the comedic failures of toxic masculinity. Here, let’s redirect. My other favorite trick is to browse wacky Occult and Paranormal Books – sort by least popular, of course!

Under no circumstances should you combine these tips-

Did you feel a little twinge behind your ear? That was your brain destroying part of itself to make room for what’s about to come. I’m serious. 5th grade Social Studies – try to remember it. Nothing, right? It’s gone. Me too, I now think the Magna Carta is an anime robot because my brain napalmed one full square inch of itself when it saw Tactical Pen Occultism.

This can’t be exactly what it sounds like. Tactical pen guys are the biggest dorks of the military wannabe set, and that’s the most hotly contested category of dork outside Web 3.0. And pretend battle sorcerers are the least respectable magicians, way behind filthy Alan Moore fuck wizards, really only holding one spot above erotic hypnotists. So this can’t exist, it’s too perfect. This book cover is the exact photoshop I’d make to mock a Scott Adams tweet, it can’t be real. 

It’s real.

Haha this is the worst start to a book I’ve ever seen and God’s Debris by Scott Adams starts like this-

S Rob was given a chance to thank anybody who helped him with this book, in life, or just ever, even in an abstract fashion. He looked around, saw nobody and nothing, then thanked make-believe sorcery for being so generous. 

Wait, there’s also a dedication-

So he does have family! Maybe? Are… his parents named S Rob, too? This is amazing. We are two total sentences into this book and already the madness is impenetrable. Imagine being given the opportunity to thank your parents and saying ā€œI hope all me-names gain in power so they might multiply.ā€ Like best case scenario he’s hoping his family gets Jamie Madrox mutations, worst case he’s wishing himself success in starting a breeder cult.

There’s no way this is real. Tactical Pen Occultism is too much to ask for from the universe. And if it is real, it can’t be exactly as crazy as it sounds-

That…

That is some prime madness.

The biblical references, the mass repetition, this is an actual crazy person. I cannot in good conscience write this article unless this lunatic is also an incompetent grifter, so if you’re reading this – good news! I got there eventually.

Let’s get back to the book:

Oh! It’s more of this.

S Rob wrote four sentences about trying to gaslight a demon into thinking it already likes you, then did a find/replace on its name. I don’t know where the tactical pen part comes into this. I can only imagine he’s standing naked in his room air-stabbing his bullies with a Bic while shouting that nonsense.

I didn’t have to imagine it.

So real magic is just listening to heavy metal lyrics while shadow-fighting your imaginary enemies with household objects? If I’d known that I would’ve called myself a sorcerer in middle school and never learned those painful lessons about hiding enough dork shit to fit into polite society. 

Let’s skip ahead-

Oh no, is this it? This book was only ever 57 pages long. It was technically a grift on the grounds of format alone. It can’t really be four sentences with slight variations for 57 straight pages-

It’s the kind of unhelpful boilerplate spell you’d get by searching ā€˜magic’ with ā€˜Creative Commons licenses only’ checked. And then 56 variations on who does that spell and where it’s pointed. Yes, this is the book. The same thing repeated for each god and each part of the body you wish you were courageous enough to attack with a pen. By page 56 we’re asking the ancient Egyptian god of medicine to do foot stuff. 

God it’s perfect, it is two lunatic premises and the funniest weapon combined with brazen Amazon book scams. It’s the perfect Hot Dog artifact. I think it’s word for word the mission statement we started the site with.

Nobody could ask for more than this but holy shit there’s more than this??

There’s…. SO MUCH more of this.

S Rob is the Holy Grail. An internet tough guy magic maniac and sad Amazon grifter with a more prolific output than some entire languages. There are more S Rob books about mystical stabbings than there are Croatian language books about anything. 

This is already too much to ask for.

Let’s ask for more. 

Let’s… let’s click on his author bio. There’s no way it’s that easy. I have a lot of experience going dumpster diving in pop culture, and it’s always work to find the true gems. Every catalytic converter is buried beneath six loose diapers and a broken Furby stuck in attack mode. Nothing is easy, nobody ever looks inside themselves and says ā€œyes, if you’d like to know all the other ways I’m hilariously deranged, just go here!ā€ 

Except S Rob.

He just lists them. I’ve trained my whole life for this. I’m ready to track pseudonyms, delve into court records, hit the dark web to trade horse drugs for old screenshots from dead homepages and he just… lists them.

Right there in the Amazon author bio, he gives us his own webpage, his YouTube channel, his hold on IMDB credits?? His IMDB credits.

Ancient Alien Birdmen! (Short)!

When Dog Headed Men Attack! (Fucking Documentary Short)!

It’s like a broken SEO bot trying to warn the future about societal collapse. Magnificent.

This man’s very existence is doing me a personal favor. All of my instincts had me ready to deep stalk his life to find meager scraps of madness scattered across deleted social media accounts and he just, he just gave it all to me. I need to start a religion just so I can saint him. 

Well, he didn’t give it all. I guess, I guess I had to dig a little bit to find the Lulu account where he sells many, many, many other books about using pretend magic to do everything from conjuring chocolate to cheating a leprechaun, you can be a superhero, you can- 

What-what the fuck?

Dog-Headed Men again? That wasn’t a fluke? In a sea of inexplicability, I still managed to dash myself on the rocks of true insanity. I can’t even fathom what Dog-Headed Men Magick might be. I’m picturing a Final Fantasy-style summon that beckons the Dog Police. 

So that’s what this article is about now. I know it was about Goofy Tactical Products and then Tactical Occult Pen Battle Tactics and then, briefly, it was going to be about Ancient Alien Birdmen. God, remember when it was just about Ancient Alien Birdmen? What an innocent time that was, four paragraphs ago. But it’s this now, the article has to be about whatever the fuck Dog-Headed Men Magick is – unless I click over to one of these other tabs and find out it’s really about S Rob’s webstore where he sells freelance dick ensorcellment.

I can’t believe I caught ADHD from this article. I never realized it was contagious, much less self-inflicted.  

S Rob is truly a one-stop shop for bush wizardry, he’s like the Dollar General of mystic conmen – you can buy a wack version of anything, from the devil’s war-pen to a bigger cock and the sexy naked ghost to use it on. He’s a prolific grifter-shaman, which is my favorite type of liar mixed with my favorite type of drug addict.

But there’s something here I don’t understand. Like… beyond the several levels of incomprehension I’ve Inception-ed myself into already. On his website, S Rob also seems to sell DVDs of old movies that have nothing to do with him.

Let’s read that closer: ā€œS Rob performs a ritual to manifest the films?ā€ 

Is he selling these DVDs and just no longer has the language to explain that in a normal way? In the same way he would explain staying at home Friday nights to masturbate to Disney feet as ā€œinvite the Goofy to step through the gateway MAKE UP AND DOWN GROIN ATTACKING MOTION LIKE THISā€? 

Or is this a ritual to bring the movies to life, assuming somebody has always wanted to live in the lush universe of The Killer Shrews

Or is this a spell for YOU to follow along and manifest the physical DVDs in your living room, because the Wal-Mart bargain bin is all the way in the back of the store and you personally broke all the mobility scooters trying to turbo charge them with pen magic?

Are you paying to watch footage of S Rob doing a spell to create Attack of the Giant Leeches DVDs in his own room, or wait! It’s a spell to make the movies exist backwards through time and the fact that they do exist is proof it works! That has to be it. 

I guess he could just be using the framework of amateur magic to slip through some sort of copyright loophole, which holy shit, we’ve come so far that sounds like the boring answer.  

Good lord we haven’t even gotten to the YouTube channel.

Thank god, thank god he wears those sunglasses all the time. He looks like the Butterball Cenobite back when it was alive. And I’m so grateful for him cataloging every second of his existence. Look at that army of clones all trying to explain The Matrix to a frightened gym receptionist. Print that screenshot out, tack it to a circle and spin it: You just made an incel zoetrope.

There’s an entire series called S Rob Doorway where he just reviews books in a doorway, which is a quainter kind of crazy. But his editorial videos are a bit spicier, like ā€œKILL WITH MAGICā€ where he argues that because nobody believes magic is real, it’s legal to murder with it. 

That means we could – nay, must! – use internet spells to supernaturally execute pedophiles. Which he calls pedia-philes. I don’t know enough about regional British accents to know if that’s how they pronounce it. I feel like it’s not, but after what they did to ā€œaluminiumā€ I’m not willing to put money on that. Sure fucks with the YouTube captions though, which think this man is advocating for the psychic slaughter of baby doctors because nobody closed the UK wizard loophole. 

And we haven’t even gotten to the movie!

HE.

MADE.

A.


MOVIE.

This article is literally going to go on forever. I’m just going to keep typing and hit post whenever I pass out, then wake up tomorrow and do it all over again because I’ll never reach the end of it. This is our eternal dance, S Rob creates the madness and I mock it and he has a 50 year head start. But every race starts with one step- 

Hold on.

I see it now. This is a trap. This is too much. At every turn my wildest wishes have been granted with no resistance. This is one of those police scams where they promise bail jumpers a free boat and arrest anyone dumb enough to show up. Well I don’t believe your free hedge warlock, you fucking arcane narcs – you’ll never catch me!

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UPSETTING DAY

Upsetting Day: Anne Geddes

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