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Category: hold my Red Bull and watch this

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round


The Red Bull is strong with this one. Not only does he go down a slope without falling down, he spins around without falling down. He’s the one we’ve been waiting for. He makes Shaun White look like Carrot Top in a frock. He’s ascended to the point where he doesn’t need a snowboard anymore. If he really felt like it he could just levitate down the side of the mountain, but he likes to leave the board on because the weight presents a bit of a challenge.

The depth and speed of his pseudo-pirouette makes grown men weep and women cry out in anguish. If he took up ballet it wouldn’t be gay, because he was doing it. If I knew anything about snowboarding I’d give a much more detailed commentary, but I don’t, so this is the best I can do. If he got any cooler, he’d freeze on the spot and become one with the slope.

What Do You Call A Professional Archer Without A Girlfriend? Homeless.

What Do You Call A Professional Archer Without A Girlfriend? Homeless.

There seems to be a bit of a fetish for archery in modern media, and I’m getting pretty sick of it. They’re pellet guns for people who don’t want to offend anyone by owning a gun. Not even a real gun, mind you; if any of them ever saw a real gun they’d faint like a southern belle with a touch of the vapors.

I know it’s a supposed to be a manly-men-doing-manly-stuff-for-men video, but I’m just not seeing it. Everything from the soundtrack to their spiffy little outfits seems to be effeminized to the point of no return. I know that picking on the warmed-over modern-dance-country-alt-rock-polka that they have playing in the background might seem like overkill, but it’s really representative of what I’m trying to get at. The whole thing looks like a commercial for a pickup truck —  and not a very good pickup truck at that. I feel like they’re going to try and sell me Viagra in a moment, because that’s what comes on immediately after the pickup truck ads. It’s bad enough that they’re limp-wristed, but I’d prefer it if they kept their other limp extremities to themselves.

Notthatthere’sanythingwrongwiththat

(Many thanks to the indispensable Charles Schneider for sending this, and many others, our way)

We Are Dairy Farmers We Believe In Nothing, Lebowski, Nothing

We Are Dairy Farmers We Believe In Nothing, Lebowski, Nothing

(Warning: enraged, indecipherable salty language)

People would rather drink Red Bull than drink milk, and that’s sad.

I don’t know why anyone would drink a Red Bull in the first place, but it still happens. Nothing is more satisfying to me than drinking a glass of cold milk. It’s like the feeling you get from eating an ice cream cone or running over a group of cyclists. The smell of blood-soaked spandex is the only thing that can compare to the scent of fresh milk.

When did we get to the point where people eschewed actual food in favor of mysterious canned liquids? I swear, a lot of people don’t want to drink milk because their parents told them to drink it twenty years ago and they’re still going through a rebellious phase. Get over it; drink your damn cow juices, eat your spinach, and get a haircut, you hippie.

Human Billboard Jumps Dirt Heap, Wows Several

Human Billboard Jumps Dirt Heap, Wows Several

I like Cam Zink. He seems like an alright guy and he’s got a pretty solid job. He gets to ride his bike around to his heart’s content, go off a sweet ramp, get like, three feet of air, and then go home with his wife and kid. If he gets over three feet of air Monster Energy sends a dump-truck full of money to his front door. That sounds like a pretty good day at work.

If he ever decides to quit the business, I think he gets to keep all of his fancy branded shirts and grippy gloves.

[Many thanks to Gerard at American Digest for sending this one down the Intertunnel to the BSBFB headquarters]