Browsed by
Category: jokes

I Bet You Write Taylor Swift Lyrics In Birthday Cards

I Bet You Write Taylor Swift Lyrics In Birthday Cards

Comments 1 comment

(Warning: extra salty language with a side of flapjacks and maple syrup)

I really feel for the fellows in the video. I don’t have any sisters, but if I did, I think I’d be even more protective than they were. While I’m sure that my father would have a thing or two to say about his daughters going out with hockey players, I don’t know if he could speak with the same sort of candor as I would.

While calling someone a cotton-headed ninnymuggins should be more than enough to discourage them from getting fresh with your kin, sometimes you have to break out the big guns. This video is an excellent example of breaking out the big guns. Conversational big guns can stop a would-be scumbag dead in his tracks. Breaking out the big guns is what stopped the cold war. Regan called up Gorbachev and told him to cut the crap or he’d have to come over there and cut it himself. I haven’t read many history books, but I’m at least relatively sure that’s what happened. Either way, I’ll chalk it up as a victory for the Western world. Regan probably called him Spotty a few times, just for good measure.

Bottled Warter: It’s Got Electrolytes N’ Stuff

Bottled Warter: It’s Got Electrolytes N’ Stuff


I have never wanted anything more than I’ve wanted that bottle of warter. I don’t know what it is and I don’t know what it does, but I want it now. I want to bathe in it if I he’ll give me enough bottles. If I could cover myself in warter, I think I’d die a happy man.

Unfortunately warter is rather hard to find online. I’ve had similar trouble finding malk and other bizarre beverages. Luckily, you can always buy Brawndo: the thirst mutilator. Brawndo is the only energy drink that I would ever imbibe. It’s got what my body craves.Brawndo makes Redbull look like skim milk. It makes Monster look like a can of sugar-free lemonade. It makes Rockstar look like a decaf, mocha-frappe with extra foam on top. Brawndo is the drink of champions — It’s got electrolytes.

Tapout: The Official Attire Of The Anti-Borderline Boy

Tapout: The Official Attire Of The Anti-Borderline Boy

(Warning:  salty language — all these flavors and you had to be salty?)

I’ve been told that I dress like a dad, but that can’t be true because my dad never dressed this good. I find that I dress like more of a grandpa, but that’s besides the point. Every day I wake up, shower, throw on whatever is first in my closet, and then continue with my day. It’s not really a process I have to think about or pay much attention to because I know that whatever I put on it’ll be fine — nothing I own had Tapout written on the front. I could throw on plaids and stripes and it would be better than a Tapout t-shirt. I could wear nothing but ass-less chaps and it would be better than Tapout attire. I’d rather show the world my soft, white buttocks than project an image of profound dickbaggery.

This might not be the case everywhere, but in my town every man wears jorts, mandels, a Tapout t-shirt, and drives a pickup truck with little brass balls hanging off the back. Now you can see where my animosity for Tapout stems from. I’m sure they’re all very nice people, but if I see another Tapout shirt, pickup-truck, mandel combo I’m going to — er — do something nasty.

I don’t have the heart to rip the shirt off their back and burn it in front of them, but I do have the heart to slash their tires. That’s not a threat it’s just an observation. A threat would be that I’m going to buy Tapout t-shirts and give them to all my friends, because the NSA ranks that on the same level as a chemical-weapons attack on a major city center.

I Noticed That I Happen To Be Considerably Less British Than You, So We’ll Call It Even

I Noticed That I Happen To Be Considerably Less British Than You, So We’ll Call It Even


Well, he’s got me beat. I never have more than 50 dollars in the safe at any time so hitting me up for cash is definitely disappointing. I did earn a considerable amount of money when I was very young, but it’s all gone now. I spent it all on ludicrously expensive gummi worms imported from the gummi mines of São Paulo, which is known for their quality gummis. I’ll admit that I’m strangely attracted to the word gummi, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m one cheap dinner date away from going broke. When I gaze long into my wallet the wallet also gazes into me. If Nietzsche knew that 125 years later a lowly cretin would butcher his line with such glee I don’t think he would have bothered writing it down — or maybe he would have cheered up a bit. Existentialists take themselves so seriously for some reason. If he ever looked in the mirror and saw his righteous mustache I think he would have lightened up a little.

Back to the material world: my wallet is an abyss to reckon with. Even if I put a couple dollars in it the money would disappear faster than I could ever get around to spending it. I don’t ever buy anything, so I guess there isn’t a problem, but I’d like to have option. I like to politely decline. It’s a lot more satisfying to say that you won’t do something instead of saying that you can’t. I’d rather have the money and decline to spend it instead of having no money and not spending it anyways. The difference is subtle, but it makes a world of difference.