I thought I was going to write about adults who still wear giant class rings but I stumbled upon something so disturbing and underground that I feel it is my duty as an American to shine a light on this ugly and repulsive phenomenon. I have just discovered there are graduation supplies for homeschooled weirdos. I will never be the same again.
I’m sorry but if you are homeschooled there are a few things you are going to miss out on. For example, unless you plan on having sex with your sister, there is a pretty good chance you won’t be getting laid at your prom. Truth be told, I did not get laid at my prom, but at least I had a chance! I had no chance. I did, on the other hand, manage to drive all the way home with my headlights off because I was so nervous, so I’ve got that going for me.
I mean, what could your graduation ceremony even consist of? Your mom draped in a bed sheet, reading off a long list of your high school accomplishments while standing on a kitchen chair? It’s not too difficult to be valedictorian or captain of the Bible team when it’s just you and your mom sitting alone in the kitchen 5 days a week.
Some of you have asked if my recent absence from the site and selling of all my possessions is related to my impending suicide. The answer to that question used to be no, but now that I am aware that laser guided scissors exist… It’s hard to say. In fact, I might even buy one of these useless pieces of shit and aim that laser right over my wrists. It would truly be fitting that the object that makes me want to kill myself is the item that actually does the killing.
Can we make a rule? When mankind has figured out how to end, or even reduce, world hunger and global warming, THEN and only then can we stick lasers to scissors and crayons and forks and whatever the fuck we want to. Until then, lasers can only be used for levels, Pink Floyd laser shows and to aim tasers at shirtless drunks on COPS. All you scrapbookers are out of luck until then.
And guess what motherfucker, your laser-guided space scissors aren’t going to do shit! Think about it, the laser is supposed to offer a guide for you to follow. If your stupid laser is attached to your stupid scissors, every time you move your stupid scissors your stupid laser moves too, stupid. Imagine if the lines in the road were attached to your car, in your mind you would always be driving right down the middle of the road.
Sorry, no real post today. I spent the weekend trying to get ready for Christmas (and an impending move), so I’m using the remainder of my free time to pray for death. Here’s a little Christmas tip, never go to Target. In fact, never go anywhere. Never leave your house.
It’s official, I relate to nothing. I am digging a hole in the dirt where I shall live until I die.
Have you ever written a grocery list and thought “This is just too quick and easy. There’s got to be a harder way.” You are in luck! The SmartShopper Deluxe Grocery List Organizer takes the convenience of quickly hand writing a list and turns it into an elaborate, complicated task.
With the SmartShopper, you just speak your list one item at a time into your magic list robot. After each item, simply wait 5 seconds for the robot to figure out what you have said. When the robot displays a list of the words you might have spoken, you scroll through the list and find the word you want. At this stage you can also remind yourself that you have a coupon for that item with the touch of several buttons. And just like that, after only 2 minutes you have one item on your grocery list! Pour yourself a glass of wine because your ass is going to be making that list for the next 45 minutes. It’s just that hard!
But wait, how will you remember this list while at the grocery store? Do you rip your robot off the wall and bring him? No, you big fucking idiot, all you do is hit ‘print’ and your robot will start pooping out your list in under 2 hours! Go watch a movie or paint the garage at this stage because your list robot likes to be alone as it slowly handcrafts each letter.
Hey, want to make the world implode? Just watch this clip of Rachel Ray and her audience of cackling morons have g-spot orgasms when the SmartShopper cures cancer. Oh wait, I meant to say when the SmartShopper recognizes the word “garlic.”
Watch the SmartShopper in action with a real life mom! If you need me I will be in my dirt hole.
I don’t care much for football. However, when I’ve gone to games in person I’ve had a good time. Wait, I just realized that’s a huge lie. My dad used to take me to see the Bears when I was a kid but there was nothing fun about sitting outside when it was 10 degrees and the wind was whipping of the lake so fast the snot INSIDE your nose would freeze. Maybe this is why I hate football. Maybe this is why I have Daddy issues.
So me complaining about something that has to do with football is like a deaf person yelling “TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN!” Nonetheless, when I heard that an upcoming Dallas Cowboys game was going to be partially presented in 3D I thought that might be cool. That is until I learned it wasn’t going to be broadcast in 3D over my TV, but instead it would be shown in 3D on the ridiculously large/ugly/unnecessary HD screen that hangs in the equally ugly Cowboys Stadium. Huh? Aren’t those people already witnessing the game in 3D? Do the Cowboys play in a different dimension?
Are you as bored by this post as I am?
I guess I just don’t understand the purpose of going to a game, only to watch that same game on the giant TV hanging over the actual game you are actually sitting at in your actual jean shorts. I especially don’t understand the need to see it in 3D if your George Bush-lovin ass is already there in person!
Much like the Terminator, you can be sure that after you eat Wendy’s “Baconator” it too will be back.
Do I really need to “conquer” my food? Ted Nugent and Sarah Palin may love to bring their food to its knees, but I just need something that will go down and come out the other end without trying to kill me in the process. Don’t get me wrong, I hate fussy food, but I also don’t need a fucking pizza on top of my pretzel. How in the hell am I supposed to walk around the mall and impress 18-year-old girls (or their moms) when I’m trying to balance a pizza on top of my God damn pretzel? I’m already carrying 4 bags from Hot Topic!
A Triple Baconator clocks in at: 1330 calories 86 grams of fat 780 calories coming from fat.
Let me put that into perspective for your fat ass… a Big Mac has 540 calories with 29 grams of fat and 260 calories from fat. In other words, a Triple Baconator is like eating 2.5 Big Macs. The recommended caloric intake for a 25 year old male who is 6 feet / 175 lbs is about 2500-2900 depending on how active they are. So let’s add medium fries and a large Coke to your Wendy’s order, please drive to the first window. Congratulations you just consumed 2020 calories and 106 grams of fat in ONE MEAL! I’m sweating just from the thought of it.
Your body literally does need to conquer that son-of-a-bitch!
If you can’t live without your precious Baconator, you might as well class it up a bit.
In general, I find football to be boring. I don’t mind the getting together with friends and eating/drinking aspect of it, but there is just too much downtime in the game for me to get excited by it. What I have zero patience for is sports shows that prattle on and on about every boring detail like a kitchen full of old hens gossiping about who wasn’t at church on Sunday. However, nothing makes me more embarrassed for humanity than a bunch of guys in suits acting out football plays and discussing strategy on a miniature field. It’s sad and reminds me of this.
Oh, but the madness does not stop there. Now they have added virtual players that interact with the suit guys, creating what looks like a video game so slow your parents might actually be able to keep up with it. Why do we need this? Plus, I just hate these guys with their huge gorilla hands, their giant sports rings and their wide-legged stance. I can feel the noogies through the TV.
Couldn’t find a football example but this should give you just as many nightmares.
