FOR THE HORDE!!!!! wait...no...
Age 35, Male
Guardian of Koalas
Here, there, anywhere.
Joined on 11/18/07
Posted by LeafLock - February 26th, 2009
The single most woderful day of the year, is just around the corner. So get your green on, eat some corned beef and cabbage, and get shit-faced in celebration of the day that everyone is Irish.
(i know it's a bit early for this, but who gives a fuck. IT'S ST. PATTY'S!!!!!)
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Posted by LeafLock - January 23rd, 2009
Amazons. First of all, what is the deal with an entire nation that consists solely of women? They probably don't shave, and as weird as it is for a guy to not have armpit hair, it's a pretty gnarly surprise to find a fuzzy little peekaboo poking out at you.
Bread in a can. Wtf. Serious guys, calm down.
Canada. The nation as a whole is pretty damn silly. Hockey, Celine Dion, Moose, Cheap Drugs... does the list really need to continue to have my point proven?
Oh, back to the letter b, Beavers. They're animals, they're coats, they make some pretty pro-style toothpicks.
Dan Akyroyd. He busts ghosts, he busts tunes, he busts some serious ass in general.
English muffins. They aren't real muffins and they aren't really english. Do people name things after the first words that pop into their heads? If so, then Saltines are now called batcrackers.
Fritos. If you are ever camping and run out of lighter fluid, never fear fritos are here!
Gambit from X-men. If you're going to be a super-hero from New Orleans 1, You'd better be black 2. You'd better play some form of instrument. Winning first place at your high-school go-fish tournament and finally making out with Miss Pigtails 95' doesn't make you a super-hero, and that cheap-ass spandex you got on sale at the local Hobby-Lobby sure ain't helpin your case son.
Hamsters. Probably the scariest animal alive.
Igloos. Now, when you rent an igloo what does your heating bill look like?
Jigsaw puzzles. "Ways to keep your geriatric entertained" number forty-two.
Kandy. And for that matter, all those skank bitchy hoes whose fucking parents went all schitzo when it came time to sign the birth certificate. Yes, sticking it in some girl at your high school kegger IS much easier than learning how to spell, but if you're not smart enough to go grab a dictionary when it comes time to name your spawn, then just MAYBE procreation isn't for you hmmm????
Lemonheads. The wal-mart smiley face in candy form. Oh the horror.
Manatees. This is what happens when those scientists down in Orange County, California are smoking a little much of that wacky tobacky and wanna see what happens when you set a cow up with a set of orange "floaties" and push it off Huntington Beach pier.
Necrotizing Fasciitis. What the fuck. Who knew your skin could just dissolve? Creepy, and yet it makes for great episodes of both ER and House. It really just makes you wish that you could be Hugh Laurie JUST to get a front row seat for Gladiator the epidermal edition.
Oprah fucking Winfrey. I think she's a blow up doll. One minute she weighs six hundred pounds the next she looks like Nicole Ritchie. Makes you wonder who's blowing her (and by that you know of COURSE I'm not making a dirty innuendo and I'm just referring back to the whole blow-up doll thing) and where they run off to every other week.
Platypi. In general, as a race they sort of remind me of Hobbits that have bred with ducks. And the fact that you could refer to them in plural as platypi reminds me of my undying love of pie. But as fond as I am of ducks I just can't see turning them into a pie. Hobbits either for that matter.
Queers. Ha, you thought that this was going to be about gay people didn't you? And I bet that the fact that I own Elton John's Greatest Hits volumes one through three won't dissuade you from thinking otherwise, but just know that I would find anyone who says fantabulous, wonderful, or marvelous more than six times a day is ridiculous.
Radio shows. And I don't mean talk shows or d.j. shows. I mean like the soap operas that broadcast every tuesday and thursday evenings at eleven thirty p.m. that talk about how Marissa Jean Norbert is madly in love with Ricky Lalane across the street and how even though she's basically the granddaughter of Mother Theresa, being saintlike and all, she'd do him without batting her virgin little eye. I'd also like to note that I find it absolutely entertaining that out of all sixteen characters on these said shows, there are only two different people to play the voices, so Miss Jean the third period English teacher sounds remarkable similar to dear old dad.
Sea monkeys. Algae does not count as a pet. Accept it and move on.
Tye-dye. It's cheaper than acid and gets the job done.
Oh, yeah, I'm going back to H. Hermaphrodites. Self-procreation bitches, what's your super-power?
...moving on...
Underwear. Fuck that shit. Why the hell should I pay for my pants to have an ass-shield? It's money that you quite literally just sit on and frankly I would rather buy myself a dirty hooker with a fake French accent and dollar store lipstick for the kind of money I waste on that crap. At least herpes is the gift that keeps on giving. One good skid mark and you have to throw your Spongebob boxers away.
Vegans. Yes, milk is cow juice. But if women can expose themselves to feed their spawn in the middle of the department store where I'm looking for 100% wool socks, then I believe that I should have the right to bathe my oreos in sweet milky goodness and so should you.
Watermelons. Those people on the nutrition channel will lie and tell you that fruit is good for you but they LIE!!!!! You try eating a whole watermelon in one sitting and then tell me that you're feeling great about yourself. You're bloating, pissing every six seconds for two hours straight, and at the end of the day, you're just pissed because you missed the Godfather rerun, again.
X. The letter. What the fuck guys, get a little more creative when you make up a letter. It's basically useless unless you want to see what your bones look like (X-ray) or you want to make up another way for second graders to piss the rest of the word off (Xylophones). And it's just an ugly letter. It's not swirly, it's not round. It is the equal opportunity letter of the alphabet.
Yarmulkes. I have no idea what exactly this is. Is it an animal? A Sweater? Something found at the book store that's not really a book store and when you ask the cashier why that necklace is so large, he'll tell you the beads aren't for around your neck?
Zen Gardens. Wow. Because we really have no time to figure out that whole global warming thing, but my sandbox needs a good raking.
