It’s surprisingly easy to get people to jump off of a cliff these days. No one went over kicking and screaming. Everyone was surprisingly calm. Naturally, there was a little screaming, but that sort of thing happens no matter how willing you are. It’s like when you’re popping a balloon, and you know it’s going to happen, but it still gives you a little fright. Personally, I find that to be unbearable.
Ah, the French: When they’re not busy surrendering, they’re throwing themselves off of cliffs for giggles. There are many people that I know who wouldn’t oppose seeing a Frenchman thrown off a cliff. I assume they mean without a parachute, but I consider that to be inhumane. Someone would have to clean up the mess afterwards, and I can’t think of anything stinkier than a Frenchman’s giblets.
It was very nice of them to compile the next 230 BSBFB posts into one video, now I won’t need to write anything until August 3rd, 2015. I wonder what I’ll do with all of my new-found, free time. Maybe I can finally figure out how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop. Perhaps I can get to work on my semi-erotic novelette: The Manly Art Of Knitting.
Either way, I think I’ll miss posting here. I’ve grown very fond of picking on the dismally disabled and alienating most of my readership. Oh, what the heck; I’ll be back with a new video tomorrow. The world needs more blog posts and less erotic novelettes. I’m still going to work on that tootsie pop though.
I don’t think he meant to do that. The dude was out flying a kite, minding his own business, and then he got swept off his feet by a light breeze. It happens to the best of us, but he couldn’t have been in a more unfortunate location. Other than hanging over a vat of rotating, acid-covered knives , there’s not too many ways it could get worse.
I wasn’t too worried though — he was wearing his helmet, and that makes all the difference.