I think of my phone like I think of my toilet. Once every three years, I peer into its darkest, most mold-encrusted corners and briefly contemplate cleaning it. I scrape off two layers of caked shit-dust and gag. Then I give up.
Also, I rub my face against it, but that is a story for another day.
This is the retirement home across the street getting their weekly shipment of old people. The expired ones are then shipped out in big wooden boxes. DeadEx does some good business in this market sector.
SHOPPING IS ART. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY. WAR IS PEACE.
I was up late that night. Graveyard shift at the campus apartments. A dispute down the hall resulted in a pathetic and somewhat hairy student coming to me complaining about one asian in particular, and asians in general. He also said he needed a new scrunchie, but I couldn’t help him there. A single RA can only do so much to stem the asian invasion and conjure up scrunchies.
Hitachi Okinawa was a disturbed elderly man who appeared in the streets of Kyoto on February 23, 1935, smelling of sake and wearing clothes made entirely of rice-cakes. By noon, police had noticed his odor, his tendency to scare pigeons, and his lewd glares at women and young boys.
In tough economic times like these, we can no longer afford to eat lobsters garnished with panda blood and diamond sauce. Today, I walk you through some easy way to tighten your belts without also tightening your taste buds!*
*Taste buds cannot be tightened.
Here are some alternative recipes for your favorite foods.
Real cheesecake requires expensive ingredients and gas-oven preparation. With energy prices these days, something had to change.
The impressive empire that once was.
(Yellow only; grey indicates outlying areas)
I am writing to you as a representative of the people of Wales. I understand that you are very busy freeing South America from the tyrannical grip of a decadent Spain, but I sincerely hope you will have a chance to read my heartfelt appeal.
I took a drag from my cigarette and kicked Tanzmetall in the ribs. Nothing but a bloody death rattle from him. He was a goner for sure, and by lucky chance he had saved me some work. NDP was down, and I made sure he stayed down for good.
Administrator: Meeting has started. Administrator: Grabass_Champion has entered the meeting room. Administrator: Tanzmetall has entered the meeting room. Administrator: FooTay has entered the meeting room. Administrator: Nom de pomme has entered the meeting room. Administrator: Farkle-Farkle has entered the meeting room. Nom de pomme: hey everyone!
Fun fact about your favorite Clunkline author, nom de pomme: I’m left handed!
That right, I’m a southpaw underhanded sinister guy. Here’s the thing, the world isn’t, and I fucking hate it. Somewhere in a parallel universe, I am the most coordinated person in the world. In this reality, however, I constantly fail at direction and mechanics because of my… orientation.
Also Known As, The Longest Motherfucking Corner Essay Ever
There are a number of arguments for and against the Electoral College, and yet there are not two legitimate sides to the debate, because every one of the losing side’s arguments belies borderline mental retardation. In every claim about what the system does, E.C. supporters are flat wrong, by empirical fact. And in every claim about why what it actually does is a good thing, they are nothing less than clinically delusional.