The driver just wanted to feel something. Rolando doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel anything again. The cycle of pain continues.
No GIF today … but still.
Went out with some coworkers last night, spending some quality time at the office before heading to a gay karaoke bar. One of our coworkers (lets call him Jim) appeared to want some Mickey D’s. I consulted with Biff, another coworker, about the benefits of such an action, and before you knew it we were waltzing up to the counter.
Jim was, by my estimation, a little drunk. It’s not his fault that he drank several pulls of Jack Daniel’s on top of 5-6 beers, is it? It seemed like fate at the time.
Jim offered to pay for both of our meals, and we headed over to the corner table to nom down on the ridiculously bad food.
Jim had a QPC and a big ass order of fries. I was jealous of the fries, I won’t lie. They were fresh, hot, and definitely fries. Fries, I said.
So, I started sampling from drunk Jim’s fry box. Not a euphemism.
He got a little upset, but he barely noticed. While putting down his QPC to make an animated gesture with his hands, the box flipped over, sending the delicious sandwich spiraling off the table and on a trajectory that would doom it to the trash bin.
Just before the QPC hit the bench seat, I reached my right hand out like a boss and caught it, mid-air.
Looking at drunk Jim, I said “dude, treat this thing with respect. It’s more than just a hunk of meat.”
After that, I proceeded to eat 3/4 of Jim’s fries, because fuck him, he was drunk.
It’s hard to think of things to do when you’re a teenager. Even more so when your father is in prison and you’re waiting for him to finally get out of the clink and start his life anew.
Wearing gold shorts is a surefire way to signal to your friends that you’re a rube. Tim and Gary headed to the prison yard to wait outside for pops, who was making his grand exit in an hour.
Rather than patiently wait in the car, Gary had the bright idea to get the soccer ball out and play a little. Tim couldn’t hold out any longer, attempting to stick his body through the fence and rejoin his father, who held a significant role in the young man’s life.
Instead of making it into the prison, Tim was imprisoned in the very fence that held the inmates in the facility.
Gary could never pass up the opportunity to drill his brother with a mean left leg kick, but as he learned that cloudy day, you never want to take a ball to the face. Never. No one was happy after that.
Brent had long heard that the Apple store was made of gorilla glass. Indestructible, yet soft to the touch. It would certainly never shatter in his face, causing massive blood loss and an immediate explosion of his pancreas.
That’s right, his pancreas exploded in the Apple store. Fortunately, The Genius Bar just so happens to serve as an operating room table, and Brent is now embedded with an iPad 2 in his belly to help regulate his stomach nutrient absorption.
Larry was born in 1985 to a farmgirl mistress. The father, a zucchini demigod, could not allow his reign to be challenged by a bastard child.
Instead of murdering the baby, Zucchini-man sent his mistress off into the forest, where she met a slew of wolves. I believe they call it a pack, like ‘wolfpack’, but I am just too damn lazy to research the subject.
Anyway, Larry grew up amongst a pack of chill bro-wolves. Though they didn’t speak English, they were very inquisitive and made sure to always keep Larry warm in American Apparel gear.
Flash forward 26 years, and Larry is a fully grown human being. He has loved and lost, seeing an entire generation of his wolf family live and die in front of his eyes.
One thing he had never seen before? A Weber grill. Passing through the forest, he smelled the waft of charcoal and a hunk of meat slowly cooking through. Knowing nothing but raw rabbit, tender mushrooms and stray cats, meat on flame was overwhelming.
Without knowledge of humanity, Larry also had little knowledge of utensils. Rather than grabbing a spatula, he stuck his hands into the charcoals, where they got stuck in the grill and eventually melted away to nothingness.
Larry was left with nothing but strange shoulder nubs. In this significant, groundbreaking gif, we see Larry’s first introduction to lights, camera, and action. The paramedics behind him do verify that yes, Larry no longer has any arms.
At this point, Larry wonders if the ‘microphone’ in front of him is edible. Immediately after, he attempts to eat it.
Why does everything involving legwarmers end in tragedy?
Jenny and Tina are freshmen at Bemidji State University in the northern reaches of Minnesota. Jenny was particularly drawn to BSU because of its supreme catchphrase:
I mean, look at that guy climbing an aggressive rock face. I am perceiving his actions as bold, and I am simultaneously linking him to a tier 3 hockey school on the border of Canada. “Bemidji State: Where No One Can Hear Your Sighs Of Boredom.”
Jenny didn’t play it like that, though. Freshman year is a time of experimentation, doing crazy shit you never imagined doing when living under the roof of your drunk dad and overbearing mom.
So Jenny went to the Bemidji Goodwill and grabbed some awesome leg warmers. Since it was September 15, obviously there was snow in the forecast and she wanted to be prepared.
That evening, however, Jenny and Tina drank a few nips of cinnamon schnapps and got a little frisky. Armed with an iDock and hundreds of T-Pain songs, they headed into the communal bathroom of their dormitory to get down and dirty.
Jenny is not used to getting schwasty. Trying to impress Tina, she hopped on the bathroom sink and starting bouncing her ass like she thought they were doing in Sisqo’s Thong Song video (tl;dr: that’s now how it looks, Jenny. You’re so Minnesota white).
Obviously, girl didn’t practice before going live in front of a studio audience. She’s fine, but the internet will never forget her overly enthusiastic brush with death.
Darnell Sunday grew up in a Jewish household. Ironically, he never understood the significance of Sundays to Christians, which gave him a strong sense of self-loathing. He sure as hell didn’t respect women, either. They’re supposed to be in the kitchen, after all; that’s just how Darnell rolls.
Imagine, then, the shock in his heart when he saw a woman, wearing nearly nothing, strutting across his lawn like she owned the place. Heck, she didn’t even have an apron on.
“This is my lawn,” Darnell screamed as his bleach-blonde hair whistled in the breeze. The women, unfazed by the Under Armour-inspired war chant, continued to look the other direction, a clear sign of disrespect in Darnell’s enraged mind.
Lets just put it this way: Darnell protected his house. In other news, Patricia, our victim, is making great progress in physical therapy and should have full use of her thumbs within a year or two.
What really happened to Roger Sterling after he got high on LSD.
People say the Philadelphia Phillies have terrible fans. Big, stinkin’ jerkwads that throw batteries at Santa and force visiting team players to sneak into the ballpark through an underground tunnel from the Holiday Inn.
Honestly, that’s a crock of shit. You might think that these two fine Philadelphia citizens are pregaming before a big game, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. James and Sandy decided one cloudy Saturday afternoon to head down to the South Philadelphia Sports Complex, where the police department was holding their semi-annual impound auction.
Logically, they brought the party with them. Armed with nothing but a 12-pack of Coors Light, a plastic funnel and a flexible tube, Sandy came up with a great idea: put all three items together for one fantastic rush of fluid to her liver.
Folks, you’re looking at the world’s first beer bong. Invented by the greatest sports fans in the universe. The police officers, headed to to the auction, could not help but give Sandy the love she deserved.
The joke was on James, however: after buying a $40,000 Volvo S60R at auction for only $13,000, he immediately was pulled over and charged with DUI. Since he had no money to pay for the car to get out of the towing yard, the car was then put back to auction three months later, where a newly single Sandy, accompanied by two beautiful black police officers, purchased the car for $9,000.