Browsed by
Category: wholesome explosions

Greedo Totally Shot First

Greedo Totally Shot First

I really feel for the guy in the video. I hate when I get shot with a flare gun and die. It happens all the time and it’s really beginning to get on my nerves. My disembodied ears are still ringing from the last time. At least he got done in quick. After my last flare gun mishap I’ve been reduced to just a head in a jar. My insurance plan doesn’t cover recapitation so I’m stuck like this for all eternity. Now I use my tongue to type and my eyelids to scroll; it’s not so bad after you get used to not breathing or going to the bathroom. Pro tip: On the internet, nobody knows you’re a severed head.

A flare gun wouldn’t typically cause your entire body to disintegrate like you got hit with a holy hand grenade, but in this case it seems appropriate. A video without a violent explosion simply isn’t good enough. We have very high standards here at the BSBFB headquarters. Also, we some very delicious looking donuts in the break room, but no one will carry my jar over.

Interestingly, “Homemade Polish Acetylene” Is The Name Of My Metallica Tribute Band. But I Digress

Interestingly, “Homemade Polish Acetylene” Is The Name Of My Metallica Tribute Band. But I Digress

Ah, Borderline Sociopathic Chemistry class. I remember it well.

It was held in the back row of regular Chemistry class. While all the goodie-two-shoes brownnosers sat up front and raised their hands and nattered on about covalency and miscibility, all us ne’er-do-wells sat in back and concerned ourselves with Real Science. We weren’t all talk. We experimented.

First, turn on the Bunsen burner. Then, of course, turn UP the Bunsen burner. Now grab a tongs and shove everything you can lay your hands on into the flame. “Will It Blend” has nothing on our impromptu off-cable show, “Will This Explode? No? How About This?”

So let the robodweebs talk about mixing calcium carbide and water, then adding a source of ignition. We’re doing something about it. 

(Thanks to Gerard at American Digest for shooting that one over)

José, Can You See?

José, Can You See?

I don’t know anything, but I know if I tasked a true Borderline Sociopathic Boy with performing our national anthem, this is about what he’d come up with.

(Thanks to a true Borderline Sociopathic Boy, Charles Schneider, for sending that one along)

Borderline Sociopathic Boys Have Daughters Sometimes, And Have No Idea What To Do With Them

Borderline Sociopathic Boys Have Daughters Sometimes, And Have No Idea What To Do With Them

Look, honey! I made you a miniature cannon for Christmas! I always wanted a miniature cannon for Christmas, but everyone said I’d shoot my eye out — and the whole orbital bone, and a good bit of my temporal lobe — but I was determined that my daughter would get the cannon I, er, she wanted for Christmas.