What I love about this story is the police report. So typical. The cops go in, see a bunch of people engaged in public sex, get the people to let them take a bunch of cell phone pictures of them doing it, then three hours later exit the premises.Finally a way to increase church attendance.
What I love about this story is the police report. So typical. The cops go in, see a bunch of people engaged in public sex, get the people to let them take a bunch of cell phone pictures of them doing it, then three hours later exit the premises.![]()
Some guys started a Kickstarter for the RompHim, a romper for men.
http://www.fox32chicago.com/news/255069686-story
RompHim + man bun= lifetime ban?
If at first you don't succeed, pick, pick another date. http://beforeitsnews.com/conspiracy...17-americas-destruction-foretold-2481468.html
Nostradamus wannabes come hither!![]()
Some guys started a Kickstarter for the RompHim, a romper for men.
http://www.fox32chicago.com/news/255069686-story
RompHim + man bun= lifetime ban?
That article ought to be parody. The whole thing is just amazing lunacy.
Honest to God. I read about the first two or three paragraphs of the article and my first thought was, "this reads like that old Lincoln/Kennedy nonsense you used to see on a truck stop placemat."That article ought to be parody. The whole thing is just amazing lunacy.
Hence why it's here, and there's a funny caption involved.
There's a whole world out there I know nothing of.
To this day I consider it a wonderful break of fate that I was born, educated and entered the working world before personal game systems really came into mainstream existence. I remember in college one kid had an Atari system, but he was the only one any of us knew.
If I could have my choice I'd pick being born in the 1860s. And English.
Here's how great it is to be white: I can get in a time machine and go to any time, and it would be ***#ing awesome when I get there! That is exclusively a white privilege. Black people can't fu#k with time machines! A black guy in a time machine's like, "Hey, anything before 1980, no thank you. I don't want to go."
But I can go to any time! The year 2. I don't even know what's happening then, but I know when I get there...
"Welcome, we have a table right here for you, sir."
"Thank you. Oh, it's lovely here in the year 2."
If I could have my choice I'd pick being born in the 1860s. And English.
And, well, rich.
It's all gone in the sh-tter since 1914, and that would have given me 50 glorious years of a classical education, eccentric amateur scientist, taking my Irish servant girls three at a time in the billiard room, being too old to be dragged into the Great War, and too dead to worry about Adolph.
Basically, Bertrand Russell without the depression.