Ah, de agony of de feat. Sometimes life’s like that. It’s a very long run for a very short slide. You spend an hour and a quarter just putting on your padding, and twenty seconds after they sound the gong, you’re in a pigpile.
The checkered flag goes home along. So sad.
James Bond had an Aston Martin with twin machine guns. Hemingway had his Westley Richards double-barreled elephant gun. Dirty Harry had his .44 Magnum; Kirk, his phaser. Arthur had Excalibur.
This dude wanders around a crocodile pen with a shovel, while wearing capri pants. He’s officially the most badass person in this end of the galaxy.
Ding dong dash. Ring and run. Climbing trees. Cowboys and Indians. Army man. Ollie ollie ossenfree. Buck buck. Hot lava. Red rover.
You’re it.
[Found at Execupundit]
Only by making a bonfire from the splintered remains of the kitchen cabinets, and roasting the carcass of the first potbelly pig they could run down in their neighborhood, could they possibly outdo this episode of Epic Meal Time.