The sound of metal chains whipping against bare flesh hang heavy in the air, like a bird flying into a headwind. The room is damp and sparsely lit. SUPERMECHAGODZILLA’s scarred jowls are illuminated by a desk lamp laying sideways on the floor
Which reading is true? Which reading is true? WHICH READING IS TRUE!?
[Spits mouthful of blood] The words are used specifically for their literal intention, the events are straightforward so as to be easily understood by an audience of children.
The beating begins again, with a furious vigour, until SUPERMECHAGODZILLA can barely stand. He rests one hand against a dirty wall, sweat marring his 1993 Nebraska Film Festival hypercolor t-shirt.
The opposite reading is true… The opposite reading is true. I’ve been to college.
KOOS straightens his posture, his pride and dignity unscathed by the days long assault of a fat, stupid man.
Any perceived allusions to facism in A Goofy Movie are a wholesale invention of a misguided viewer.
SUPERMECHAGODZILLA adopts the look of a man who has been defeated. Wearily, he grabs a shotgun that had been resting in the corner, and cocks it loudly.
Goofy simply wishes to bond with his son through fishing, a traditional pastime, as he had done with his own father. It is neither parable nor allegory. Neither dog was molested, the material does not support this.
“At the time, it was a no-brainer,” Brady Garvin, the food and beverage manager at Petco Park, told me about the Padres’ ill-starred partnership with Food Network star Guy Fieri. “Guy’s a strong brand, and we had a lot of metrics that suggested that the concept he brought to us was going to work great.” That concept was “Ballpark Food With Balls,” an idea based around fried seafood and an assortment of “flavor-kickin’ dippin-aises,” and for a brief while it did very well at Petco indeed. Due to pending litigation, Garvin was unable to discuss Ballpark Food With Balls any further, but fans and vendors told the story of how what initially seemed a perfect pairing ended in legal action, acrimony and an alleged act of vandalism by Fieri in which he—or someone—spray-painted, in the words of a 2009 police report “hot rod-style flames” on top of both dugouts and in a half-dozen luxury boxes.
Fieri’s concession stands—the full name was “Guy Fieri’s Ballpark Food With Balls By Guy Fieri”—were open for only a few months, and I never got to taste the food. As a condition of Fieri’s departure, several drums of Tex Wasabi Kickin’ Dippin-aise, Do U BBQ Dippin-aise and Rockin’ Horse-Ranch Dippin-aise were destroyed, and 5,000 Fieri bobbleheads, initially part of a planned fan giveaway, were sent back to the manufacturer, where they were reportedly altered slightly and sold as Shaggy 2 Dope bobbleheads at the 2010 Gathering of the Juggalos.
Ah, Prospector. My dearest old friend. I am still alive and quite well, thank you. Have not seen these chem trails of which you speak, as I am residing in a remote location south of ______________. But, there is a Starbucks so no complaints lol — just a little lonely — but as they say, leaders don’t have friends. Such a shame that I became so hated by the modern world, people whose generation I had no affect on. Though your government is very good at what it does, and that is spreading lies and propaganda. There was no holocaust — those body stash pictures were just captured prisoners and war criminals. A certain… Alphabet soup agency just wanted my country’s insanely sick black technology for their own. That new iPhone? It’s rubbish. Don’t get me started on Play Station. I had a better console in my underground lair over half a century ago until Force Recon stormed my bunker and I had to haul ass. You should know I still look the same, if not younger… my heart still kicks like a drum,. You would not believe the advances we had in age reversal even in the 40s, and were going to give it to my Aryan kingdom, until your suits snatched it away from me so they could profit off engineered sickness and “natural causes.” It’s good to hear from you, as always, and I wish you and the FYAD gang all the best. I am very intriqued by this irony that you guys use a lot. Stop by __________ some time, and I might just take you for a ride in my old Vril disk anti grav space ship. Truly yours,
The thing is, the nerds always win in the end. The jocks are loud and threatening and big and brash and win early on, but the nerds are subversive and thoughtful and calculating and subtle and play the long game by design, without even realizing it. Long after the jock earns his beer gut and bald spot and consumer BMW trophies and Stepford wife, the nerd is lifehacking and fittit’ing and juggling offers from both jobs and the opposite sex and making cool shit and not giving a shit about material things except when they might change the world like Bitcoin.
There are a number of things that trouble me about this post. The first is the use of the term “Fatclown” as a member name. There is a huge array of members names, some impenetrable, some desriptive and others ironic. I can’t recall any other name that has so instantly worried me. I don’t want to know why you chose the name but if it is supposed to be funny then I fail to get the joke.
vice: were here in columbia and theyre growing big amounts of weed in this vast field behind us to sell for money. the smell is extremely potent. first off we are going to see see if we can get a sample to analyse back at the hotel to see if its as good as the weed from the episode we shot in south africa. miguel luis herrera lopez is our guide to this extremely lucrative business. he helps harvest the weed but insists he has never smoked it before
colombian: no smoke
vice: its so dank here. surely you get to smoke this very good weed for free every day
colombian: the soldiers say if we dip into the product that we are to have both our ears taken off
vice: admit it.. you sometimes secretly take a small part off of one of the weed plants and you smoke it. Haha you must do that due to the fact that this weed is so potent
colombian: is no possible. they know my sons jorge and rafael. they will cover them in tar and burn them
vice: but this pot is so high grade and dank. theres no chance of a sample?
colombian: is all to go to usa through mexico and to uk by europe through france tunnel
vice: haha fuuuuuck… shit haha. just kidding ahah. well viewers watch us next time as we attempt to get weed for free in mozambique
oh hey internet its me, fatlord. can i please buy four pounds of weed so i never have to go outside. i will fling the money out the window at 4:06 pm. please heave the weed at me. i’ll be the one in the window thinking gay shit about stupid crap.
We had an open campus lunch when I was in high school. I really liked music, so instead of spending my allowance on food, I’d go with my friends to Burger King and eat a bunch of salt packets. That way I could spend my money on CDs.
Now I have awful blood pressure, and due to technological developments over the past ~18 years, those hundreds of CDs are worth next to nothing.
[normally upbeat white faggot teacher comes into rowdy classroom in a really defeated manner, flops his briefcase on the desk and sits there in an anguished way]
[class of rowdy yelling Blacks and a few latinos and one dark skinned asian eventually notice and become quiet]
Funny black kid: Ayo teach, whats the problem bruh bruh!
White retard teacher: well. its just.. its just that, these past few weeks of trying to teach you retards math has really strained the credulity of my white guilt. Even though intellectually i know its not your fault that youre retarded and like to listen to Rap music instead of rock music, icant help getting frustrated. Im starting to feel like forcing you to memorize a bunch of worthless trivial ephemera about numbers , that i barely understand myself, and that you will forget instantly as you languish in servile labor to jews forever, might not be a worthwhile goal
Really stupid black kid who it isnt his fault that he is violent and likes scary music: What are we gonna do teach?
Piece of shit white teacher: the only thing we can do.. im going to watch you all fuck my mousey girlfriend while i stand in the corner, jacking off my dick which is slightly smaller than yours on average, which alleviates my white guilt and perpetuates the idea that you are base creatures whose wants can be satisfied solely by moments of transient animal physical pleasure, so its ok that i cant teach you math. i will also placate the female blacks by reassuring them that they are beautiful even though i clearly dont think that and its cruel to pretend its true
[class starts cheering and hooting in the exact predertermined way that the International jewry has deemed culturally acceptable ]
In the early 2000s i neglected my only friend because i was playing counter strike all the time. He would come over and i was just playing counter strike and he would sit on my bed and watch me play it. I wore headphones too so he was discouraged from speaking to me because each time he spoke id have to say what and turn around and uncup one ear and hed have to repeat himself. I guess eventually he decided a good way to solve this problem would be to take an interest in my interest and start playing cs too. He wasnt one to play video games but he had a capable enough PC so i told him id teach him to play. The first time we played together i told him it was really important to enter ‘bind W kill’ (or whatever command it was that killed yourself) in the console. He did and so of course every round hed died every time he tried to move. He didnt know what to do. He was like how do i fix this john. And i was like damn i have no clue, what a mystery. He never made the connection between the console command and his dying over and over. After ten or so rounds of watching himself die he decided it was broken and stopped playing and talking to me.