DOS & DON’TS
400 NEW JOKES FROM THE FUNNIEST MAGAZINE COLUMN TO EVER EXIST IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE
This digital edition first published by Canongate in 2011
Copyright © Vice UK Ltd, 2011
The moral rights of the authors have been asserted
First published in Great Britain in 2011
by Canongate Books
14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE
Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and to obtain permission for the use of copyright material. The publisher apologises for any errors or omissions and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future reprints or editions of this book.
Excerpts from the original “Vice Guide to Everything” originally published in v2n8, “The DOs and DON’Ts Issue”.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available on request from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 84767 970 3
eISBN 978 0 85786 043 9
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Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION
The first thing most people do when they pick up a copy of Vice is turn to the DOs & DON’Ts. Introduced into the magazine more than a decade ago as a way of fitting fashion into our pages, they’ve become a mainstay of Vice, and one of our most popular reads.
By way of an introduction to this volume of the last five years of DOs & DON’Ts, two of Vice’s editors, Andy Capper and Thomas Morton, who between them have written many of the captions, discuss the enduring popularity of making fun of people’s clothes.
Andy Capper: How would you describe the DOs & DON’Ts to somebody who’d never heard of them?
Thomas Morton: Pictures of people with funny captions about their pants, though I guess in the UK I’d have to say trousers.
AC: Yeah, our reporters risk their lives venturing into some of the most dangerous places in the world, but all anyone cares about is when we make a joke about some unsuspecting person’s tits.
TM: It’s true, an insanely large number of people look at the DOs & DON’Ts. And there are definitely people out there who only know Vice through the DOs & DON’Ts and couldn’t give a shit about what music we like or how Marina Abramovic prepared for her latest show.
They are immensely popular in spite of the standard charge of “not being as good as they used to be”, and mostly because pictures + caption is super-amenable to quick, cheap comedy. Plus it’s so easy to spend three hours just clicking through months of them online. At the same time, we try to put a little more effort into them than, “Check out this twat in the sweater. What a loser, right?”
AC: I always find I write the funnier ones when I’m really hungover.
TM: I haven’t figured out when my funniest ones are. The ones I think are hilarious usually get pilloried in the comments. Then there are cast-offs that I put up for the weekend where people go ape-shit over a turn of phrase, or the fact that I called the person Carl. It’s a mystery.
Having a tall friend is great in a fight, because he can come in and absorb all the punches. But having a tall friend who’s also willing to absorb all the fag-bashing that leads to the punches is about as close as it gets to having your own personal stunt double.
G-Unit may have fallen off in record sales but at least they’re still out there hustling for that paper.
Isn’t he supposed to have open sores on his face and a mongrel dog that’s dying of starvation whimpering into a half empty bowl of cider? He’s like if Urban Outfitters did a line called “Distressed Rancid”.
Since the bogeyman retired, big sisters have been scaring their siblings with stories of the Sex Squad Man who is under your bed right now and can’t wait to tickle you.
Oh, to be wheeled to the banks of the river Styx by an immaculately attired angel of death who smells like lilies and brimstone and softly murmurs songs of praise in a stately baritone.
We generally don’t like twinks but this is kind of OK. Anyone who can mix Andrew Cunanan with My Own Private Idaho is at least worthy of a little...
What the fuck do these disgusting pieces of sugar-filled white garbage need Bluetooths for? So the TV can call them? “HEY MOM—WE R STILL IN PARKING LOT—MARKS YAWNING—CAN WE GO—NEED TO GET BACK TO CONT. SHITTY LIVES.”
Losing your leg at a Prodigy concert must be fucking harsh.
Your testicles have to get some fresh air once in a while. In fact, letting them run around the block in the snow is actually beneficial for sperm production. Don’t forget to put a pair of sunglasses on them though. Balls have very sensitive eyes.