Karate Bastard posted:

I feel both pride and shame



poo poo I ruined the punchline

Gromit posted:

Arkannoyed posted:

I suck at drawing, but here you go:

QUACKTASTIC posted:

closer to the source:

burexas.irom posted:

Now someone do I Don't Like Thing.

DavidAlltheTime posted:

physeter posted:

I appreciate your belief that the nearest town, which is 25 minutes away and boasts a population of approximately 1000 people, has bars full of rednecks with rappelling harnesses and squirrel cages just waiting for the opportunity to risk their lives in a dangerous climb where a fall means near-certain death, but it actually isn't the case.

banned from Starbucks posted:

I'll get right to the point OP. I've sniped over 60 squirrels in my time. I have a gift. Fly me out and let me stay a week in your Appalachian lumberjack paradise to smoke weed and watch your DVDs and I'll bullseye your critter problem.

Uptime Sinclair posted:

it would be so cool if hp/jkr chat was as probateable as anime video/picture posting. holy moly that would be so, so good.

infernal machines posted:

i'm pretty sure hewlett packard fanfic is still bannable

Uptime Sinclair posted:

dear penthouse; a loose female aquaintance of mine calls me at 1:00am today,

Bertrand Hustle posted:

I am still baffled by the fact that he did that

GWBBQ posted:

No you're not, he later killed himself.

oldpainless posted:

I mean, it’s a lonely guy who’s never had a gf, let alone sex. He imagines a “knight in shining armor” scenario where he saves her and she realizes he will do anything for her and so they have sex and yes I am the goon in the story

GWBBQ posted:

No you're not, he later killed himself.

Gripweed posted:

SpacePig posted:

I've never seen the last few years of American politics summed up so succinctly before.

Neddy Seagoon posted:

Doc Hawkins posted:

Outrail posted:

Hahaha noice.... Ah gently caress my spell check learnt noice.

Noice.

Phy posted:

If ze fash tweets go out, who cares vhere zey set?
It's not my department, says Tim Gionet

President Beep posted:

jerry Cotton: tv detective

Fatty Crabcakes posted:

The victim was stabbed with a wooden knife and then stuffed into a plastic tube

TimWinter posted:

Gonna need a title for the movie with the exploring pig

carry on then posted:

babe: pig in the city?

Weatherwax posted:

Just wanna point out that wooden knifes are way better for the environment than metal. Since wood is a renewable resource and metal needs a lot of energy to smelt.

thespaceinvader posted:

And well cared for metal has basically infinite useful life, where wood very definitely does not, even when well cared for.

Aphrodite posted:

It's not like I'm having my knives personally forged.

Fatty Crabcakes posted:

You should. The quality is higher and it lasts longer and it's great for the local economy if they who smelt it dealt it.

Phy posted:

Lol if you don't have Enrique powerfully hammer a new set of flatware for you on the house anvil for every meal

AMISH FRIED PIES posted:

From the "poo poo you just figured out" thread:





and of course:

TK-42-1 posted:

make good posts and no one remembers you. but you gently caress one flask

boar guy posted:

SCORE BIG ON MOTHERS DAY FOR UNDER $40!!!!!

gently caress off
nice can i speak to your manager talons, i guess they know their market

Xand_Man posted:

drat your mom's offering a pretty good deal

boar guy posted:

what? no....NO!

Bust Rodd posted:

Arivia posted:

when we're posting about trans issues your cis white gay dude or whateveriness doesn't really count for poo poo, honey

this is the attitude that takes queer allies and turns them into TERFs and the sooner you drop it the better. queer issues are queer issues and the difference doesn’t matter to most people.

Mel Mudkiper posted:

Just because you are no longer in danger of murder by biker gangs doesnt mean you are suddenly free from oppression

Bust Rodd posted:

I feel like you post in Chinese with how little anything you direct to me makes sense.

The Saddest Rhino posted:

我觉得你应该学习，在适合的时候，要闭嘴多一些。

nickmeister posted:

Nice google translate chinese

The Saddest Rhino posted:

我的母语是中文 ，你这废才。

zoux posted:

https://twitter.com/Politics1com/status/1112436688243081217

Fishstick posted:

Crime Rib

Torchlighter posted:

Context: this is the internet culture warriors thread and this is Bust Rodd.


this is the attitude that takes queer allies and turns them into TERFs and the sooner you drop it the better. queer issues are queer issues and the difference doesn’t matter to most people.

Bertrand Hustle posted:

Enrique is like PYF's only native meme and I love it

rodbeard posted:

How much wood would a wood knife wood if a wood knife would knife wood?

bell jar posted:

only a whittle

OMG JC a Bomb! posted:

MY GIRLFRIEND insists on listening to Top 40 FM stations whenever we take her car anywhere. It's an endless wasteland of vain, broken idiots reciting lyrics and music written by the same dozen or so people operating out of California. Every track is designed in a lab to be addictive, emotionally manipulative, and optimally marketable. I’ve endured a lot of reprehensible poo poo on our road trips together. There’s Sam Smith, who charmed the world by sobbing into a microphone like Jimmy Swaggart. There’s Megan Trainor, who is contractually obligated to include at least one mention of her huge rear end in every single. There’s Taylor Swift, who wants to be a “bad gurl” despite being as edgy as Motel 6 wallpaper.

But worst of all is Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You”.

A few months ago it began playing three to four times an hour on every FM cesspool across the country, almost as if there was a concerted effort by Clearchannel and iHeartRadio to exhaust the public’s interest in it as fast they could. Yet it persists to this day, playing incessantly between endless repeats of vile 21 Pilots and Chainsmokers hits.

Ed begins by boldly shunning one of pop music’s most sacred idols, “The Club”. Instead, he prefers to be among his people at the bar “doing shots” and “talking slow”. At some point a woman approaches Ed and speaks to “only him”, perhaps believing him to be a tubby, drunken leprechaun that will grant her a wish. Van Morrison is namedropped, so you know that Ed is totally above the Top 40 schlock that he’s currently subjecting you to. I’m surprised the next verse doesn’t involve him lecturing Girl on the rich, dark sound that only vinyl can provide. Instead, Ed starts to dance with this enraptured stranger, probably grinding his chode against her miniskirt to the sultry sounds of “Van the Man”.

Not trying to brag, but the first time I heard the bridge of this song my first thought was, “Was that the loving chorus from ‘No Scrubs’?” The surviving members of TLC apparently thought so, and began exploring legal restitution a few weeks after the song poo poo up the charts. Ed and his legion of studio lawyers immediately capitulated and gave TLC writing credits, even though being non-consensually associated with this song should be legally actionable in any God-fearing country.

The bridge, sung to the tune of “No Scrubs”, begins with “Girl, you know I want your love. Your love was handmade for somebody like me.” I can’t argue with his logic, honestly. As we’re about to find out in the next verse, both Ed and his new lady-friend are terrible assholes. He would also have us believe that she actively wanted Ed to “put your (doughy, ginger) body on me”, probably in the same sense that Ivanka Trump wants The Don’ to put his body on her. Hint: It involves access to large amounts of money.

The chorus begins here, but I’ll save it for later.

Having bonded over drunken thrusting in an Irish pub, Ed and Girl go on their first date. And wouldn’t you know it, they’re entirely compatible! Compatible in the sense that they’re both unbearable, anyway. It’s like two people on OkCupid meeting after answering in the affirmative to match questions like “Do you think that tipping cultivates feelings of entitlement and should be banned for the good of our culture?” or “Do you enjoy lengthy conversations/debates about circumcision?”

Our deplorable duo begin their evening together by ripping off a Chinese buffet. Ed piles tremendous amounts of food on his plate and gorges himself (try to contain your shock). Girl opens up her purse, presumably with several plastic bags inside, and dumps food into it. Sheeran congratulates himself and his partner for being “thrifty”, probably because a Buzzfeed or Salon article once told him that stealing food from immigrants just trying to run a business is acceptable because Trump or something. To make matters worse, these gigantic pricks occupy their table for “hours” discussing the feast they’re stuffing into their gullets and handbags. Probably after closing, if I had to guess. And if you think the busboy found a single red cent left behind on their table, I envy your loving optimism more than words can say.

Speaking of exploiting immigrants, Ed and Girl depart in a taxi that gets immediately transformed into their personal gently caress-den. They sloppily kiss each other in the back seat as Ed’s fat fingers fumble their way over Girl’s moistened crevices. The scent of several pounds of ill-gotten Chinese food mingles with the odor of Guiness-infused sweat as their driver begins to question the wisdom of leaving Pakistan. Ed takes a break from his dry humping to lean forward and ask the driver to “make the radio play” (this very song, odds are). I have to assume the poor bastard was grateful for an excuse to cover up the symphony of wet squelches behind him. Ed’s only act of kindness in this entire song was accidental, and a product of his lack of empathy.

Now, as promised, we get to the chorus.

Sheeran, his mind clouded by lust and MSG, begins trying to describe the sensations of coitus in the most nonsensical way possible. The thrusting of his blindingly-white rear end over her prone form is described as “push[ing] and pull[ing] like a magnet do.” You might be tempted to believe that his awkward use of ebonics was intended to lead into a rhyme that he felt was absolutely essential, but he couldn’t find a more eloquent way to make it work. Nah. The next line is “Although my heart is falling too.” What the gently caress am I supposed to derive from that? He’s sad that he’s getting laid? His heart sank because he thought of the episode where Dr. Green died on “ER”? If anyone’s heart should be sinking, it should be Girl’s as she watched the coils of red fur spill outward as Ed unbuttoned his shirt.

Oblivious to the feelings of others as always, Ed spends more time describing the aftermath of their lovemaking than the act itself. “[L]ast night you were in my room, and now my bedsheets smell like you,” Ed croons in ecstasy. Imagine, if you will, this neckbearded Englishman sprawled out in his bed next to a woman presumably far above his metaphorical weight class and far under his actual weight class. His nostrils flare as he inhales the combined scent of vagina, Astroglide, and General Tso’s. A satisfied grin creeps through his tangle of unkempt facial hair. Though the actual lyric is “Every day discovering something brand new”, my mind can’t help but hear it as “Everything is covered in something brand new.” Lamps, and end tables, and that poster with the naked women that have Pink Floyd albums painted on their backs covered in the combined bioslime of Ed and Girl—like a set decorated by H.R. Giger. Great ropey strands dangle from the ceiling like the webs of some unspeakable spider before dribbling onto the carpet to harden into crusts. Everything is covered in something brand new.

Everything is covered in something brand new.

LITERALLY A BIRD posted:

and Amish you forgot this one

Slim Pickens posted:

Get your support behind the REAL heroes instead.

Slim Pickens posted:

If you don't treat your normal job like you're making huge personal sacrifices to work, then what are you even doing with your life?

BeAuMaN posted:

Mod lives matter
What color would be the SA Mods line?

Fellis posted:

Amber

Foul Ole Ron posted:

Once talked to a lad from a small town in the west. They had a guy they called 'making GBS threads Podge'.

Apparently some dude would leave foot long shits along the windowsills across the town.

Big ropey thick bastards. They never caught him, but he was spotted late one night in the act. He was descriped as some old bearded lad with a Liverpool football club hoody. When challánged he was said to have sprinted full pelt into the night cackling a trail of ropey poo poo following.

Went on for years, nothing for months at a time, then bam a lovely sill.