My home phone number in my youths was one digit off from a local well-to-do joint. Whenever it was someone he knew who was trying to reach the restaurant, he’d fuck with them (ah the benefits of living in a small town). “What’s that Mr. Smith? Last time you came in, your attitude was poopie.” Cue the “...PARDON ME?!”
Was PBR, but she’s probably had to moved on to Narragansett.
Am I the only one hearing this spoken in Sean Connery’s kinda-Irish accent? Anybody. . .? ;)
I feel like this could be taken as shots fired in a glorious pizza chain war that could carry on for months, if not years. You deliver a pizza to our pizza joint, so we send our employees undercover to pose as asshole customers and make ridiculous demands. They spike our water supply, so we burn down their city hall.
I’m confused at why people think that by posting it, I was implying we should all have sympathy for them. It’s a weird, crazy, nonsensical story that I found interesting to read; that’s the entire judgment I would attach to it.
I feel like this could be taken as shots fired in a glorious pizza chain war that could carry on for months, if not years. You deliver a pizza to our pizza joint, so we send our employees undercover to pose as asshole customers and make ridiculous demands. They spike our water supply, so we burn down their city hall.
I buy the tubes of cookie dough with no intention whatsoever of baking them into actual cookies. I slice off a round and that’s dessert. #unrepentent
You know, I could list all the cases of Yelp extorting businesses (legally, somehow), or the fact that people leave terrible, lying reviews on these sites and nothing ever gets done about them, or the fact that I’ve eaten at places with great reviews that were fucking terrible (I can only assume these were places that…
I’ve been working on improving my cooking skills for the past year. This resulted in a very tearful conversation with my husband, where I had to explain that if I was going to spend 8 hours in the kitchen making ravioli from scratch at his request, he could at least take a fucking bite before drowning it in Sriracha.
V…
I once shorted a man a nickel, you would’ve thought I just ran over his grandchildren with a car made out of Matlock episodes.
I had dental work done a couple months ago, and by the time it was over I was starving, but they had told me not to eat anything crunchy or hard. So my husband is driving me home, I am drooling to beat the band, and I think of something I want to eat, only I realize that I can’t because it is crunchy. So I moan, I…
Every now and then guys will ask me if these are my “real eyes.” I’m pretty sure they’re asking if they’re colored contacts, like you said, but I’ve gotten to the point where I always reply, “No, I carved them out of a dead hobo’s skull.” It’s just confusing and off-putting enough to make them leave me alone.
I got ice cream, and my mom made a little speech. It was just me, my mom, and my dad, but I was mortified.
I had a blind couple go to it too! They said they wanted to be there for the atmosphere - they even refused the audio-description service we had for it.
Southern fundies are ignorant, obnoxious, bigoted assholes. THAT’s what it has to do with it.
At first I read this as a colloquial expression, as in, “Floyd Mayweather and pee in an elevator, this apple crumble is delicious, Donna-Sue! You must give me the recipe!”
I have a relative who still cracks up over walking into that movie assuming it was just a movie (and he's honestly a pretty devout guy, but still), with a big bucket of popcorn, soda and a box of candy. He said people were in their in their church clothes eyeballing him like he just pooped in the pope's shoes.
how the fuck do you NOT eat pancakes with butter?
You better start stalking me then. I lived through 4 fucking years of that godawful state, and I’m not about to temper my distaste for the place where I nearly died at least four times that I can name off the top of my head. Whether it be by heat exhaustion, too many guns in schools, or good ol’ fashioned bad drivers,…