BSBFB

Incomprehensible Pterodactyl Screams Take No.1 Spot On Billboard Hot 100

August 28, 2014 aubuchon

Don’t laugh, pterodactyls are people too, man. Well they’re not people, but you get the idea. That raw emotion has to come from deep inside his pterodactyl soul. His little spiky head just wouldn’t be able to take it if you don’t like his song. He poured everything into that performance. So what if he’s a little off? So what if it’s mostly incomprehensible screaming and crying? He’s like the mentally disabled kid at the talent show who wants to show off his interpretive dance moves, but they’re just too complicated for his soft, pudgy body to emote, so he falls down on his face and poos himself. You’d better clap for that, because he tried dammit and that’s got to be worth something.

If I catch any of you make fun of this I’ll call the Intertunnel police and report you for pterodactyl abuse.

Human Billboard Jumps Dirt Heap, Wows Several

August 25, 2014 aubuchon

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]

Whenever You Take A Selfie The Communists Win

August 23, 2014 aubuchon

Unbelieveable, absolutely unbelievable. The man is on top of a building so high that if you dropped a penny off the side it would rip the spine out of any pedestrian it hit, and he checks his phone for text messages. That’s something you do waiting in line at the DMV or at your grandma’s funeral, not while one thousand some odd feet in the air. Wave, scream, laugh, cry, jump, do a flip, I don’t really care. Please stop playing with your stupid phone.

This whole selfie business has got to stop. If you want to take a picture of something, take its damn picture. Don’t insert yourself in every photo for the sake of seeing your face plastered on everything. You’re not Stalin, the proletariat aren’t going to erect you an effigy on every street-corner.

You’re not as interesting as you think you are and your family likes to pretend you’re adopted.

Crush, Kill, Destroy

August 22, 2014 aubuchon

There’s something very satisfying about watching a yooper destroy a bowling ball just for giggles. I’ve always had deep, animalistic craving to smash everything bowling-related on sight, and my scores always reflected that. The man that looks like Saddam who rented me the shoes said that for really high scores, I should try golf. I don’t have anything against bowling or people who bowl, so it’s merely a coincidence that I put toilet paper in that guy’s shrubs.

No one is actually good at bowling. People say they’re good bowlers but they’re lying like golfers do. Don’t take that the wrong way; there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being an abysmal bowler. I wouldn’t trust a man that could bowl, or who knew what an Oxford comma was. I’ve noticed those are never the same people, by the way.

I’m not unreasonable about these matters. I still go bowling every four years just to make sure I hate it.