Your Comments

The triumphant return of -- (What? Not triumphant at all? Ok, I'll try again) The inevitable retu -- (Huh? Oh, right, we weren't sure we were going to bring it back. Once more from the top) The classic Funhaus Comments Show is back and better than -- (Ok, fair enough - it's not "classic". And you're right, let's not promise that it's better. Gimme another take) Funhaus Comdants is -- (Haha, that one was my bad. Again) Funhaus Comments has finally returned! (How was that? Good enough? Ok, I'm going home. Make the check payable to Joel's Voiceover Agency LLC)

Hey. We're on to you. We know that you're leaving purposely inflammatory comments in the hopes that we say your name on the show and yell at you. Guess what? We can see through that shit. What, you think we're idiots? You think we're like YOU? Wrong. We're geniuses. BABY geniuses. So none of those dumb comments are gonna make the show. STOP TRYING TO MANIPULATE ME, MOTHER.

They said it was a crazy idea. They said it would never work. They were wrong. The reverse psychology title bait we're using today is going to revolutionize Funhaus. Just think about it. By asking - DARING - you guys to dislike the video, we're drawing your eye. Making you think. Suddenly, you start to consider the ramifications of your action on a global scale. "How will my thumbs down affect the price of millet in sub-Saharan Africa?" "Will my college admissions officer see my thumbs down as a reflection of my potential contribution to my residential house?" "Maybe my future spouse and I are thumbs-downing together at this exact second." See? Really makes you think. Reverse psychology, huh? Anyway, please dislike this video.

Ladies and Gentlemen - you're probably wondering why I invited you here today. There is a mystery afoot: someone burped. We know where he or she burped: here. We know how or or she burped: with his or her stomach. What we don't know is the WHY or the WHO. Lady Violet: you were seen eating a chimichanga not 2 hours ago. Did the burp come from you? Corporal Ceylon: was it the saag paneer you had for dinner? TELL ME? Senor Sienna: I observed you furtively exiting a Carl's Jr, and I say to you, that burp certainly SMELLED like a $6 burger. Madame Mauve: After some research, I discovered you won a belching contest in preparatory school. Doctor Schwartz: I just don't like Germans. So: who was it? Come clean, and we can all repair to the solarium for iced jellies.

Man, your comments are getting more and more literate each week. Puns? Multi syllabic words? Gender politics? Quechua?! It's like you guys decided to actually pick up a book this week and do some reading. Congrats! Enriching your life is very important. I watched with pride as your comments have evolved from caveman-like grunts to simple sentences. All it took was weeks and weeks of berating, mocking, belittling, and prodding you to do better. Now that you're writing at an 11th grade level, I know I can leave you better than when we started. My 13-week project to civilize you has ended in success.

Voldemort forgot one important piece of information: The wand chooses the wizard... IDIOT. Something, something, Hermione's hot now.

Watch till the end for a special announcement from Bruce.

Want to get your comment featured on the Comments Show? Here's a hot n fresh tip: don't write a comment with the intent of getting your comment featured on the Comments Show! It's a bit of a paradox, I know, but like all the best things in this world, once you give up and stop trying, you'll succeed. Just like finding a significant other, or a good job, or ultimate happiness, or the perfect quesadilla, or a cuddly puppy. Just give up!

We hope you are all in a mood to hear about a dead woman’s sex organs, ‘cuz that’s what you’re gonna get on today’s hacky-sackin’ episode! We also explore why Adam seems so dead inside and the calming joys of watching Funhaus in the tub.

We get excited about getting you excited about comments about how excited someone gets by our comments. You’re waiting for a train; a train that will take you far away. (BRAAAAAAAAAAWWM)

You monsters! How dare you besmirch Omar's editing skills?! His fingers bleed for you. We're not mad at you, Internet. Just disappointed.

In which the Willems return from holiday, a ball is playfully hit about, a challenge is issued to the most cowardly of viewers, fanciful new garments are proposed, and a dog gets kicked in the face.

Get ready to bid a fond imaginary "Fare Thee Well" to Lawrence and Elyse as they quit mid-show to start their own hentai/celeb impression based channel.

You ready for the whiggity-whackest, dopest, most lit episode of Your Cizzoments ever?! Neither are we.

We try our best to keep it real positive this week while flexing our way through your comments. I just wish Peake wouldn't curse so much. He's better than that.

7. Bash felt a tightening around his neck and wrists. He suddenly noticed how little the bindings felt like rope. “We’ve actually been pretty impressed with your work. There’s almost an art to it, the way you muck up these marks of yours. No trails left. Real clean shop you’ve got down here too.” said the voice with a wave towards the rest of the basement. Bash sucked in a mouthful of wet, bleach-tinged air and weakly hacked out the only sensible thought he could muster. “Wh-...who?”

And lo, she was called Elyse, and she was our savior. When the armies of Grathnar were at our gates, Elyse did drive them away with her enchanting tune. Well, maybe enchanting is too strong a word. Pleasant? No, that's not right. It wasn't exactly enjoyable. What's the word I'm looking for. You know that thing when your ears have like that weird buzz. You know? Either way, the army or whatever ran away.

Bang Di finished his last set and nearly collapsed on the cold gym floor. He wanted so badly to get jacked, but it was becoming more and more difficult to find time for a pump. Through sweat-stung eyes he glanced at the the syringe his trainer had coyly left for him beside the bench. No, he thought, I'll do this the right way. I will remain true. For James.

Hey, the heart wants what it wants. And sometimes what the heart wants is your all too attractive cousin. Who are we to judge? The entire town of Shelbyville was founded on the exercise of this precious freedom. Go nuts.

IV: Brasik’s ruined body lay mercifully close by. Farinfoor braced himself on the corpse of a felled giant and slowly made his way towards the sound of desperate pleas. Brasik’s eyes brightened almost imperceptibly at the sight of his approach. He lay half-buried by the surrounding dead; his right leg ending in tatters at the knee. Farinfoor stooped to kneel beside him but was halted by his friend’s surprisingly resolute cry.

XII: Farinfoor slowly ascended the innumerable ivory steps in defiance of his body’s protests. As he climbed higher, strange sounds began to echo through the stairwell. A rhythmic pounding, like some dense, buried heartbeat assaulted his ears. It grew increasingly unnerving as he turned the final corner and beheld the entryway to the lair of his world’s oppressor. Through that thin mahogany portal waited the monstrous, unseen font of all maladies. Through that door lay The Impetus.

XVII: “Whoa whoa whoa, wait, Stygian what? Hold up!” As Farinfoor hoisted his axe to strike the terminal blow, the man closed his eyes, his pleas fading into a gentle but urgent muttering. Caring little for the prayers of some dark servant, Farinfoor brought his axe down. The blade’s path was true. It screamed towards its mark swiftly and without qualm. And then it stopped.

XXV: Farinfoor seethed with disbelief. “You… you made this place. Why did you make it so ugly? So brimming with violence and death?” “I dunno”, Harry shrugged without looking back. “I was a kid. I guess I was working some stuff out. My dad was a jerk and girls wouldn’t come near me. Anyways, it’s kinda fun watching all you guys go at it.” Again, Farinfoor endeavored to stand. This time he did not falter.

XXXIII: Summoning the entirety of his will, he cast his thoughts, his very being, outwards from that monument of dark creation. He took hold of this new and frightening revelation of potential and let loose a tide of its wonderment out onto the confused and writhing masses strewn across all that was known. He allowed them to fathom, for the first time, that their lives, their world, was their own. Farinfoor unhurriedly opened his eyes, turned them to the farthest boundaries his vision, and watched as his world shook, and boiled, and then was suddenly, graciously still.

I know, I know. You thought we were only capable of squeezing out one poop joke per episode. Maybe we could relax and move ourselves to drop two at best. Well take a seat because this week we managed to pinch off a third one near the end. Don't worry. I hate myself enough for all of you.

Please don't make our editors angry. You wouldn't like them when they're angry. Well to be honest, they're not all that likable when they're not angry either.

I think Willy is going to work out just fine. He's punctual, fashionable, great head of hair, American, and does almost zero celebrity impressions.