This... this is bear spray in a glass box with a basic alert system built in. I could probably replicate it with raspberry pi.
WTF. Why can’t I come up with a stupid idea and gull saps into paying me lots of money?
This... this is bear spray in a glass box with a basic alert system built in. I could probably replicate it with raspberry pi.
WTF. Why can’t I come up with a stupid idea and gull saps into paying me lots of money?
Let me give you a more succinct, but less polite answer than these others: Eat shit, asshole.
They want to restore basic, human rights to migrants and immigrants, not stop their country from defending itself.
Pack it in, folks. Hemmerling for Mitchell has won the internet for today.
I proudly stand to wipe. When I have the runs (Which is frequent because I had my gallbladder out AND I’m lactose intolerant and refuse to stop eating dairy and fatty foods), I sort of shuffle my way back so any drips fall in the bowl and then TCB.
Some of your fancier, better-made pissers have targets that are off center and present the ideal place to aim and not have spashback.
I wish! My grandfather made drag tires in the early days (Before he moved onto midgets). I haven’t been to a race in ages. One day. One day.
My wife uses sugar-free strawberry preserves on her PB&J’s. I say she’s a monster. I’m correct, right?
GRRM has no pages nor any plans for them.
Where are these assholes when I go into the woods with a shotgun looking for them? Guess I gotta go rescout looking for dead cats.
This appears to be delightfully strange. I look forward to seeing it.
I and several members of my family have the exact same name as a terrorist, but we’re Irish and very, very white, so we’ve never been hassled about it. It has nothing to do with race or religion. No. Not at all.
Have a star, my friend. You win the internet today!
Nope. Puke. I had a super shitty day on Friday, downed about a third of a bottle of Bulleit, a beer, half a pizza, and went to bed. Come midnight, I awoke with a startle and promptly yakked out my bedroom window. The next morning I awoke to the dulcet tones of someone vomiting. It was the dog walker from down the…
I hit BOTH of my brothers in the head with a wooden Red Sox souvenir bat. On their birthdays. Two weeks apart.
It’s dead when it is cut down. It just doesn’t know it yet. Like people born Vikings and Jets fans.
Would kind of like to just post the following in the comments of Brody’s article: “You’re a pretentious little cunt, aren’t you?”
Wish I knew that then. I’d have saved myself the effort.
Here’s mine.
In fairness to Darth Cheney, it was birdshot not buckshot. But yeah, fuck that guy.
This might the the dumbest thing I've ever seen on Kotaku, possibly the internet.