My problem is called: FORTY POUNDS OF CINNAMON IMPERIALS!
They were selling discontinued stuff off at the grocery store where he works, so LM got them for $1. Which is an excellent bargain for someone who knows what to do with FORTY POUNDS OF CINNAMON IMPERIALS.
Seriously, like what the hell do we do with these things once we're done laughing at them?
I had to Google them to find out what you meant; we call them "Red Hots" where I come from.
Oh. I thought Red Hots were squishier.
Quote:
I suggest that you eat them.
But I don't even like candy very much, and forty pounds is, like, how much a little kid or a medium sized dog would weigh. Like, sometimes if there are going to be a lot of people over for Thanksgiving, you get a 25 pound turkey, and everyone eats way too much, and then you still have a whole bunch left. This is 15 more pounds than that!
He also got a one giant bag of yogurt covered pretzels and two giant bags of raspberry gummy candy.
We are all going to have really bad stomachaches for a really long time.
I recently ate a 5 lb bag of Jolly Ranchers in a matter of weeks, and they're way bigger and harder than Red Hots. I think I could do 40 lbs. of Red Hots in a month, if I wasn't seriously considering starting to think about maybe trying to lose some of the weight I've put on in the last couple of months.
As I'm sure most of you are aware, my personal theme song for some time has been that one song that goes like, "Here I am! Rock you like a hurricane!" plus some other words, probably, that I don't know.
After a great deal of careful thought and consideration, I have decided that the time has come to refocus my energies, reevaluate my goals, and evolve my personal marketspace in order to keep up with the dynamic Web 2.0 landscape.
As such, I ask that you make any necessary modifications to ensure that the correct theme song plays when you read one of my posts, and I think it should go without saying that there are swears, so you know, I guess don't click on that if you are at work and/or if you are around a bunch of babies that don't know very many swears yet.
OK someone tell me what song it is. I can't listen here at work...
You should quit that dumb job, then.
Anyways, it is:
Fuck the Shit by Sons of Butcher
Fuck the shit, fuck the fucking shitfuck
Shit the fuck, shit the shitting fuckshit
Fuck the shit, fuck the fucking shitfuck,
Shit the fuck, shit the shitting fuckshit!
Shitfuck!
Fuckshit!
Shitfuck!
Fuckshit!
Fuck the shit, fuck the fucking shitfuck
Shit the fuck, shit the shitting fuckshit
Fuck the shit, fuck the fucking shitfuck,
Shit the fuck, shit the shitting fuckshit!
Fuck! The! Shit! Fuck YEAH!
You should still quit that job, though, so you can listen to it. It is better that way.
Cade's bio-grandparents are really, really interested and concerned with how we are going to handle the issue of Santa Claus. Seems a weird thing to be so overly focused on, to me. The kid isn't a year old, Santa ain't an issue at all.
Those tobacco company commercials where the fucktards scratch their chins while reading about shit like the health effects of smoking.
Sometimes the fucktards scratch their chins while reading about erectile dysfunction.
Y'all already know how much I hated the Levitra lady, but she's not around so much anymore. Now I hate that crazy guy who says "Sex has always been a very important part of our relationship", and looks so psychotic that you have to suspect the other half of the "our" equation is actually the half-dozen dead hookers he has stashed in the crawlspace.
DINGFOD, HOW DID YOU GET THAT PICTURE OF ME? That looks like the expression of haughty condemnation I was making when I posted those last pictures! Plus that is totally the shirt I was wearing yesterday!