From Chris Casey:
Order water at a fast-food restaurant, get a miniature cup.
Are the small cups necessary to keep costs down for a free item? Do they deter soda theft?
The truth is these establishments are bullying you into buying a drink.
Six ounces can’t quench a lunchtime thirst. You’ll require frequent, humiliating refill trips, parading your cheap ass around the place with your Dixie cup exposed for all to see.
You press a little lever on the lemonade slot to get the water. How dainty do you look pressing it, shot glass in hand? How many germs are on that thing? Poopy index fingers all over it.
All the other beverages are activated by pressing a mostly germ-free cup into the soda fountain. Magic does the filling.
Why don’t you just make me lick the floor to earn my tiny water?
When I hear “failed stimulus,” I think of someone not appreciating a finger in the butt.
Prince Adam turns into He-Man by yelling “By the power of Grayskull, I have the power!”
How does He-Man turn back into Prince Adam? Does he have another phrase? Does He-Man wear off after awhile, and you become Prince Adam again?
My guess is he reverts to Prince Adam immediately after coitus with Teela.
Take me, Battlecat
If I were an enterprising hotel proprietor, I would have a sign: “Complimentary black light and toothbrush available upon request.”
The black light assures guests a clean room, while also encouraging them to avoid spilling fluids all over the walls. This isn’t a whorehouse.
This will never happen, as we simply love rolling around in each others dried up goo.
I wonder what my killer will be texting when they run my ass over.
It better be at least OMGWTF worthy.
Baseball: Buy some close seats and curse at someone who makes more money than you.
I’ve picked a scab or two.
Removing a scab is like removing a body part that regenerates.
If we could do the same thing with arms, we’d be tearing them off left and right.
And the majority of its visitors are from searches for “purple candy corn.”
You meant to be looking at this post.
I’ve placed calls to KCP&L and the Kansas City Star in the past week. Both robot operators told me to “Listen closely, as our menu has changed.”
I’ve heard this message many times from other automated greetings. Why is the menu changing so much? Are there new things on the menu? Or is it something far more sinister?
The point of a robot operator is to prevent you from talking to the human operators, who make their livings by getting you off the phone as soon as possible, so they can move onto the next person who beat the system to talk to a real person.
By changing the menu, companies prevent frequent callers from memorizing the sequence of numbers necessary to reach a fleshy operator. You will pay attention and earn your way to the customer service rep, cheaters.
If you own a dog, you are likely awful.
Sure, there are decent dog owners. They train their dogs.
But the majority of dog owners are shit. The dog trains the owner.
Bark all night, and your master finally comes out to bark back, “shut up!” Apparently this astute owner thinks dogs understand English. If this is the case, why not put the peanut butter away and simply say “blow me.”
Dear Olive Garden,
If I wanted to eat things I couldn’t pronounce, I’d go to a real Italian restaurant.
Now, where are those fresh breadsticks you promised?
Matt
The Dusty Bookshelf sells previously owned books. One of the sections is “New Arrivals.” I avoid this section, as these books have been near feces more recently than the books living in other sections. “New Arrivals” should really be “Hot off the toilet.”
I’ll meet you at six. Actually, you get there at 5:55. I’ll be there at six. I’ll know to look for you when I arrive, and you’ll know to look for me at the door. This will spare us awkward looks.
I quit Facebook two months ago.
I no longer know the pets of people I barely spoke to in high school.
Worried about the cold weather affecting your golf swing? Worry no more. With weather.com, you’ll know just how to dress for the golf course tomorrow.
The link brings us to this page, which leads with:
Low temperatures won’t keep a hardy soul off the golf course. Why should they? Take the following steps to make sure you enjoy yourself##and play to your potential##in the chill.
The random “##” aren’t mine. They belong to the page in question.
Unfortunately, the article doesn’t mention how to get out of the rough in a foot of snow.
If you live in a place where Winter destroys you in January, it doesn’t make sense to enact your massive self-improvement goals on New Year’s. Sure, a new year is a great time to evaluate yourself and plan some changes, but a frozen brain isn’t all that malleable.
Put those goals off until Spring – that’s the time to kick some ass. Plus, you won’t be the douche who shows up at the gym at the new year and then vanishes after two weeks. You can bet your ass the staff is rating your chances.
Does this bother you? It feels a little dirty to me.
The Stoss has made the jump to Fox News. The man we know and love is no more.
This move earns a rating of “No Stashes. Clean shaven.”
Just needed to get that out of the way so I can continue to refer to myself as a blogger in social situations. Carry on.
Local and state governments get creative when budgets are tight. Some consider legalizing and taxing pot. Others simply fire employees.
Why not consider legalizing public urination outside courthouses and city halls? It would save on water and sewage infrastructure. Plus, everyone would score a mental benefit from literally pissing on the government.
Problem solved.
Ninety percent of my job involves face-to-face interactions with the general public. A fair number of these people emit foul odors.
Today, I was working with a lady and her male companion. Both were in their 50s. Toward the end of our long discussion, the smell of liquid scat filled the air. Was it truly a fecal discharge? Unlikely. Even the most vile person would flee the area upon a pant deposit. It had to be none other than the dreaded diarrhea fart.
While the smell was disgusting, I was more concerned with my customers thinking I had dealt it. The suspects: me, the lady, her dude, and a lone passerby. I can immediately rule out myself, and I’m fairly certain the lady didn’t concoct that rancid ass. I didn’t get a good enough look at the passerby to give him better than even odds with the lady’s dude.
I couldn’t help but make a face when the smell hit me, but I didn’t notice the lady and her dude recoil. Maybe the dude has some funky ass, and the lady has accepted it?
This is the ideal scenario, as the alternative horrifies me.
What if the passerby was the skunk? Did he deliberately plant his seed right in our laps just to make an awkward scene? Does he get his jollies going store to store, looking for victims of his gaseous talents?
If so, what an evil, brilliant asshole.
Is it really that hard to make severe weather look tolerable on a widescreen TV? I shouldn’t lose 50 percent of my screen to thunderstorms.
Fox 4, consider yourself “4WARNED!”
I rarely watch local network broadcasts, and when I do, I’m reminded why I shouldn’t.
In order to plant myself firmly in the thick of the whole “Here are some pictures of food I made, and a list of things you need to do to get food to look like these pictures” craze, I’ve decided to share one of my favorite dishes with you: Beef Ravioli in Tomato & Meat Sauce.
Looks tasty, doesn’t it?
Here’s what you need:
One can Boyardee Beef Ravioli.
Add one plate.
Throw in one finger.
Combine can contents with the uppermost surface of the plate.
Cook in my microwave for precisely one minute, nine seconds.
Remove from microwave.
Put it in your mouth and digest.
Happy eating!
Unless a bucket of cash shows up on my doorstep, I won’t be buying an HDTV soon.
I have a 24-inch LCD computer monitor on a cart. If I want a giant TV, I just have to cart the thing to my face. Take that, HDTV pushers!
Meanwhile, I have a feeling I will be ostracized by society for my meager TV size.
PBS pledge drives never looked sicker.
Prices are plunging! If you have cash and job security, you can pick up some cheap crap you and your loved ones don’t need this holiday season.
For the rest of us: Liquor prices have to come down soon, too.
USA! USA! USA!