The Facepalm

Publishing Veritas Academy's finest facepalm moments

Month: January, 2013

Bloop Bloop Bloop, by Kristin Rioux

by facepalmforever




As I walked into art class Ms. Bopalopashamadomadingdong reminded us of how today was 3D abstract day. We would need our glue, and a handful of small objects from when Ms. Bopalopashamadomadindong cleaned out her closet. I reached down into my backpack to grab my super glue, admiring myself for how prepared I was for class and how I was going to have the best art because of all the creative ways super glue can hold objects together – Unlike regular glue, where nothing ever sticks. Ahhhh… success, I had found it. Then the unthinkable: my hand was glued to the bottom of my backpack. It had spilled, my industrial sized super glue had been upside-down without a cap and had soaked through the fabric and glued itself to the floor. After about 45 minutes of the local fire department trying to free my hand, I thought to myself, I wonder how the glue feels right now…

bloop bloop bloop bloop bloop bloop


Ow, ow, ow, owow, ow, ow, ooooowwwwwwwww! Ugh, how did I end up like this? I used to be at the top of my game, strongest out of all my friends, and then I just had to get in the back of that truck. “Oh, it’s ok”, “Oh yea, we love you.” Wrong, all wrong. I can’t believe they just tricked me like that. True, I may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but I’m still the kind of crayon you will use until it’s gone. Never snapping or breaking, always loyal and faithful until the end. Maybe that’s my problem; I’m too loyal, never questioning anyone’s judgement. Maybe I do need a break. If I had only questioned Napoleon. You know, Boxer, you’re kind of stupid.

bloop bloop bloop bloop bloop bloop

~~~~~~~~~REAL WORLD~~~~~~~~~

“Alright Ma’am, your hand is free.”

“YEAAAAAAAAA!!!” The whole school cheered. I guess I didn’t realize the entire student body had gathered in our art classroom to watch the firemen pry my hand off the bottom of my backpack. This day changed my life; I am now a famous YouTube star. Thanks, Boxer!

By Kristin Rioux

Boxer is a famous character from George Orwell’s Animal Farm

In a Jam – an example of surrealist prose

by facepalmforever


My dear friend,

Believe me that I was sincerely afflicted when I learned of the loss you have suffered: a steam-powered urinal is not easily replaced. Yours, which had among other precious peculiarities, the ability to sing the Marseillaise when in use, was certainly worthy of the esteem you bestowed upon it. So, it is easy for me to understand the despair that your sister felt when it became evident that the urinal was definitively lost. Nevertheless, from that to suicide is quite a step! And, although I know that many fond memories were associated with its possession, I cannot but condemn such a fatal resolve. But this censure does not prevent me from profoundly deploring her sad end. A suicide is always, for those close to the deceased, a tragic and agonising event; but when it is accomplished by means of jam, one cannot be less than terrified. Never would I have believed that your sister could resolve to die embedded in a vat of jam! And yet, all those unlucky enough to befriend her knew of her almost morbid attraction to jam, even in jars. Do you remember how she could not contain herself when she saw it with desserts, how she had to caress it even before serving herself? Numerous incidents of this nature should have aroused our suspicion; but, blind that we were, we never understood their profound significance. Her love of jam was in the end but the love of death by jam; and it took the completion of her fatal gesture for us to understand it all. Nonetheless, I shiver at the thought of how her last moments must have been.

Please believe that I share your pain, and approve of your decision to banish jam from your life. This is a healthy reaction and I can only commend it from the bottom of my heart. It demonstrates both your determination, and your courage in overcoming pain, as well as your instinct for self-preservation. I am truly glad that without jam, you do not, indeed, risk letting yourself be compelled to follow the example of your sister.

– Benjamin Peret