Awwwww. And I don’t mean, “Awww, cute.” I mean, “Awwww, you and your fake dog are going to be alone forever and, as we all know, being in a relationship is the only point of life so you should probably just kill yourself, Spinster.” The subtleties lie in the intonation.
Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the douchiest manchild of all? Spencer Pratt? Still? I bought this fucking skateboard mirror and spiked up my fauxhawk for nothing. *Slips on TOMS and stomps off*
Someone finally found a way to make bikes even more annoying than that guy who welded one bike onto another bike to make a double-doucher mega bike. Fuck, I hate that guy.
Chalktrail is a road-scribbling bike accessory that is technically for kids. So, go donate to their Kickstarter. Do it for the kids. But hipsters, stay away from this. If I catch you riding bacon-filled donuts in my parking lot your name is going onto my Christmas Murder List, post haste.
Via Swiss Miss.
Someone invented a portable espresso maker and then suggested via this photo that we might like to use it while driving. We’re all going to die. LOL.
Throw all the other bacon-themed products inside, promise to have it cremated and I’m on board.
What a waste of sandwich. Starving, mustache-less kids in wherever starving, mustache-less kids hang out these days are rolling over in their premature graves. Now that the Apartment Therapy couple is breaking up, we’re the only blog moms you have. And we say eat your damn sandwich with the crusts on. In fact, you’ll be lucky if you get a sandwich since today is hot pool cleaning guy day and mommies have a very important butt to ogle through the back window.
I’ve got a Not-So-Virgin Mary sculpture here about an Egyptian protester-style virginity test. Or possibly a pre-abortion transvaginal ultrasound. Not sure. Those big lips make everything she says all mumbly. What I can say is the only thing holy about this Holy Mother is that hella giant vagina hole. High-five, y’all.
Girl, get out of my dreams and into your picnic pants. Then get back out of them picnic pants because nothing gets me hotter than a lap full of crumbs. Get a pair and turn your snatch into snack station. After “in my bed when I’m still drinking at 4AM” and “in front of the TV while I cry, alone,” this is my new favorite place to eat!
Pre-live your zombie apocalypse fantasies with this insanely life-like zombie head trophy. The only thing grosser is the fact that somewhere some guy is shooting this thing in the head…with his masturbation juice. Men. They just can’t help themselves.
I wonder how many KFC employees were murdered and distilled Perfume style to create the essence of friend chicken for Torani’s new Chicken ‘n Waffle syrup? Conversely, how much of Roseanne Barr’s fat was lypo-suctioned to get that waffle flavor just right? When will Chicken ‘n Waffles syrup make its debut on My Strange Obsession and how will this affect Republican voter turnout in midwestern states? These answers and more, next time on Badder Homes and Gardens.
