I thought this was an under-the-bed freezer and I was like, “Yes, easy access to my Klondike Bars at last.” But it’s actually an under-the-bed gun locker with a 105 gun capacity. I can think of at least five scenarios which require 105 guns in the bedroom. Weirdly enough they all end with you getting your penis shot off.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Well, I’ll be damned. Look how happy we are to be on the League of Funny Bitches Podcast with the lovely and fabulous Noa (that’s her pokin’ her cutie mug in) and Alicia (who’s face, fist and foot will make appearances) of your new favorite blog, Oh Noa. Watch us squirm! Hear us swear! Remember that horizontal stripes and the camera each add ten pounds!

Here’s that link again in case you’re as stupid as you look: League of Funny Bitches Podcast

And here’s the Field Day link, since I said the wrong effing url like a tool. FIELD DAY!!!

And here’s the Fart Party link, because hello, it’s a Fart Party.

Call me a feminist, but I think men should be under as much soul-crushing social pressure to stay thin and beautiful as women are. In the interest of this somewhat self-serving goal, I am posting fatty fat fat David, a giant fat statue of the clit-shriveling way you look when I wear my X-ray specs. So stop pushing your 28″ pants down further under your bellies and  go to the gym already. And get me a cheeseburger on your way home, Fatty.

I hate to break it to the company that makes these, but little boys come equipped with their own tube toys.

Good news, this post isn’t about another excruciating bacon product. It’s about Benny’s Beef Straws for your Bloody Marys. Straws made out of beef, y’all. As a Texan, Ron Swanson aficionado and high-functioning alcoholic I personally endorse this product. Benny, you can pay me in cash, credit or beef straw middles. I know you don’t just throw those away.

You nerds better get some of these hand-stitched Vulcan oven mitts. I would hate for you to be reaching for a roast and accidentally burn the only woman you’ve ever loved.