If I were totally invisible, I’d probably murder a lot more. After that, I’d just walk around quoting lines from The Shadow radio show. Then I’d miss the hurt faces people make when they can actually see you flipping them off for no reason. And after that, there’d be no reason to go on, would there?
The Como Sofa looks like a row of teeth, so it’s no wonder it eats change! Get it? Eats change? Because it’s like teeth? In a mouth? Like the mouth of that high-dollar hooker you’re boning during your lunchbreak on said couch after your wife saved up for months to buy it? Where the frantic half-removal of your business casual Brooks Brothers pants shook the change out of your pockets and into the cushions? The couch where she’s going to make you sleep for nine months when she finds lipstick on your collar and herpes on your dick? Before stabbing you to death in a fit of rage after a restless night filled with nightmares of renewing your vows, only to have that slut stand up and give you a bj when the minister says, “Speak now or forever hold your peace”?
Yeah, it’s nice right? I think you should buy one.
slutty, slutty slut pants
via Breathe Modern
I like anything cheap and plastic (except the Real Housewives of any city), maybe that’s why I love the idea of this $3 Chair Exhibit. Highlights include “White Plastic Chair,” “Plastic Chair in Wood” and “Gold Chair.” Lowlights include “Slider Chair,” “Statement Chair,” and, apparently, the ability to name art.
via mocoloco
I’ve always preferred Old Testament God over New Testament God. Smite makes right, I always say. But that was before I discovered New New Testament God. He’s not a vengeful God or a forgiving God. He’s a fucking bat-shit crazy God. No, no. This chef isn’t the Antichrist. Ronald McDonald still has that gig covered. Look at the lower right corner. That’s breast-milk cheese, the latest greatest thing in New New Testament God’s creation (i.e. Brooklyn). And don’t worry, according to this NYP article, it tastes pretty much like cow cheese. So, you know, the benefits are obvious. Don’t question New New God’s wisdom! Or the way he applied those almond slivers to that cheese ball. His cheese balling is beyond reproach. Amen.
Via Buzzfeed, The All-Knowing.
Maybe these pillows wouldn’t be on sale if this asshole knew how to embroider a dog. Seriously, did a stroke victim stitch this?
This is a good idea in theory, but the book choice is totally wrong. See, in Texas, you’re issued a flask at birth, so there’s never any need to hide it. The hospital puts it in a care package with your six-shooter, your future trophy wife and your inflated ego. Then they wrap you up in swaddling chaps, plop you in your Mama’s arms, and send you out into the big, bad world to flourish, secede, and die early of barbeque sauce-related heart disease.
How many avant-garde idiots does it take to design a candle shaped like a light-bulb? 17. 10 died when someone dared them to eat Mentos and then down a liter of Diet Coke. 3 died while while texting and riding their fixies. 1 was suffocated by his own mustache. And the last 3 took just enough time out of their circle jerk to take the dump in a bucket that inspired this piece of crap. It’s an old design school trick – like reading tea leaves, but with shit.
Oh, Christ. I got Scabies just looking at this Comb Over Rug. Why would you want to envelop yourself in feet and dirt and errant pubes and nail clippings (Gaaghgh accchhh glaaaagh) and scab flakes and crumbs of every variety?
What I’m saying is, you lay down on that rug looking like this:
And you get up looking like this:
Not only are you a greasy, flaccid loser, but I can smell your dick cheese from here.
If I ever see a “no camera” sign on your front door, I promise you I’ll hex your vagina. And if that’s not available, I’ll cast a spell on your ass fat and make it multiply every time you mention kegels — anal or otherwise…
There are three bears in this bowl and one cougar at my desk. Seriously, lock up your ‘tweens. This kitty cat is on the prowl…statutory rape style.
