‘Hear ye, hear ye, pleasure seekers. There is a grey Honda Civic blocking ye olde receiving dock on yon northern point of entry. Remove thine cursed carriage, or it will be towed. Thank ye.”
HUZZAH!
I read this in the voice of some bored intern reading it over a squawky PA during opening ceremonies at a Renaissance Pleasure Faire somewhere outside Bakersfield, CA.
That looks like a slow-cooker insert, and that’s a film of oil (from the sausage, probably) on the top. Fatty foods cooked in a crockpot always has a slick of oil on the top. I suspect that if it was stirred up it would look less gross. But I also suspect that there’s a can of chili or something in there that’s…
“Often the extreme brutality of the films functions as a metaphor, either for the emotional trauma the characters fail to confront or the audience’s own voyeuristic relationship with pain and suffering.”
Do people really...enjoy these movies? What I mean is, does anyone feel good about themselves or the world or like they’ve made themselves better having watched these things?
That video thumbnail screams “When the whole crew is hype for the Florence and the Machine concert, but is also concerned about getting home before the babysitter's curfew"
There’s the implication that a sandwich can have a closed side if it’s main protein is sliced, or that it can have an unsliced lump of protein if the bread is completely sliced. It’s an interesting theory.
Autocorrect turns his name into Gopher Trace, so thats his name now
Hey, what’s up guys, shit sucks huh?
See also: Toys R Us.
I wasn’t worried about the telephone pole, no. But given the family history, and the close proximity of the deaths of grandmother and granddaughter, there could have been a curse or whatever you want to call it that put the entire family at risk of being exterminated—and not just in the way it ended up playing out. It…
“No more musical montages, Hallelujah”
Much of the western world thought tomatoes were poisonous (due to being in the nightshade family) up until the early 1800's. Things change.
I know you guys know most of the things we eat feel pain. I don’t have much faith that the neat packages of meat at the store were all butchered humanely. Lobster just forces you to confront reality.
You know what gets me? That whole “A Few Bad Apples” defense? It forgets the next like “A few bad apples... spoil the whole bunch.”. These departments, a LOT of departments, need to have a whole house cleaning, down to the fucking floor boards. Rip out all the training material. Rip out the senior officers. Start it…
Now I just want to reread The Pigman and feel achingly guilty for everything selfish I ever did as a younger person.
I thought running in and out of the bathroom every seven minutes was just known as “The Arby’s”.
Alright so I can add something here. I don’t wanna sell it as the juiciest thing, but: