Here’s a double dose of jokery for you:

These light fixtures are perfect for rich Star Wars nerds to put in their mansions. Or they would be, if Star Wars nerds ever moved out of their moms’ basements.

Or…

Ye Old Dan Flavin just jizzed his pants.

Alan wrote the second joke. I think the five people who get it without Googling Dan Flavin can agree that it’s better than mine. But for the rest of you guys… STAR WARS NERDS! THEY LIVE IN BASEMENTS! HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Just like you, the Slow Glow Lamp is filled with fat. Unlike you, it gets brighter and brighter with time.

Craptastic picture taken at Droog in Amsterdam and used solely to make you jealous of my vacation.

It seems a shame to waste a colossal fart like this to make a lamp when you could be subjecting your dog to the Dutch Oven to end all Dutch Ovens. Of course, your dog will respond in kind and, well, it’s the end of the world as we know it. While we’re on the subject, “shotgun” on the mutant T-Rex when we get to the post-nuclear-fart-apocalypse dystopia.

While I’m inclined to pick on this hat/lamp/yellow dump, the seller also has a mint condition set of Ms. magazines including one with the “9 to 5″ gals on the cover so move along, bitchy words, move along…

Lacy doily lampshades? Nice try blogosphere, but my brother and I came up with this in the late 80s. It’s called “put all your mom’s underwear on the fan then scream ’til she comes into the room, turn on the fan and watch her get pelted in the face with her own panties.” Ah, the sweet taste of humiliation. On second thought, I see the subtle, nuanced difference between these concepts. But in other news, my brother and I were quite prolific inventors as kids. We also created a game called “Flusher.” But that’s a story for another time…like after the statute of limitations has run out.

Silence is golden. Kinda like girls, rods and, of course, showers.

Am I posting this lamp because I genuinely think it’s cool? Or because the seller’s name is Get Bent and I’m sending you a not-so-subtle message? Someone call Robert Stack, looks like we have an Unsolved Mystery on our hands…

The Anthropologie website writer claims this chandelier design makes them wonder, “Why not serve tea on the ceiling?” Listen, Alice, I don’t know what you’ve been snorting off your looking glass, but around here we have a little thing we like to call “gravity.” Look into it.

I heard the beginning of Alanis Morisette’s “Isn’t it Ironic” on the radio yesterday. So today I’m going to install an overheating megawatt bulb in this book lamp, then hang up a copy of Farenheit 451, which will surely burst into flames and engulf my house, taking me with it. Not to celebrate irony or anything. That song just makes me want to kill myself.

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via John “Tuff Stuff” Duff

No need to put these quote lamps next to your bed. It already screams “desperate.”