cute little zombie girls

Hypothetical: Zombie Toddler Arena

cute little zombie girlsLet’s say there is a gameshow where some giant company clones a bunch of mindless zombie toddlers. They are not real children and never were real children. They are simply animated piles of cloned flesh that don’t have feelings and only want to kill you and eat you.

You are the contestant on this show, and you get to “bet” how many toddlers you want to go into the room with. For each toddler you wager you will get paid $1000 after you exit the room. There are no weapons. The room is a basketball court (no bleachers, its walled off) and the toddlers are released 1 per second, alternating from the 4 doors to the room until they are all released. You need to survive for 1 hour to win.

How many toddlers would you agree to step into the arena with?

alt : Discuss on the forum or comment below.

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suggested videos too alex krasny's osx lion sucks rant on youtube.

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The “McGangBang” an Etymology

You have probably heard of a McGangBang. You can practically order it and get it no questions asked. But if you don’t know… You get a double cheese burger and a McChicken sandwich. Both from the dollar menu. Then you split the double cheeseburger right between the two beef patties, and place the McChicken in between and close it up. So you have a hybrid super sandwich. It tastes great, unless you are a freak and don’t like McChickens and double cheeseburgers. But this isn’t what I want to talk about. I am more interested in the name McGangBang and how exactly this frenkensandwich is actually a gang bang. Or who is banging what.

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The Dandelion Conspiracy

My father called me the other day and told me to make sure to go to Home Depot and get some dandelion killer because if I let the dandelions get out of hand they will take my whole yard over and then there is nothing I can do. I don’t get it. Why do you need to murder all the dandelions? They are cute little yellow flowers that don’t bother anyone. Not only that, but they turn into (arguably) the funnest flower in the whole world. The puffy cotton version that kids love to play with. Kinda like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, except more like a butterfly turning into an ever cooler butterfly. Like nature’s fireworks.

bright yellow dandelions white puffy dandelions ready to spread seeds

Weeds

I think a fresh green yard looks good punctuated by little yellow bundles of summer. Green and yellow, like lemon-lime, a refreshing drink for your eyes on a hot summer day. I remember when I was a small child in the Ukraine my mom would braid these into halos or tiaras and I loved them. You can pick adorable little bouquets of dandelions and give them to your loved ones. It’s a shame your loved one would probably get insulted that you would dare give him or her a bouquet of weeds. WEEDS!

Dandelions got branded as weeds. Why!? They are clearly flowers. Really bright and inviting flowers at that. Not prickly like those asshole roses. They are cheap and accessible. They even smell nice. You know what I think? I think there is a conspiracy against dandelions.

The Secret Florist Society

Think about this: Dandelions are flowers that grow all over the place and anyone can just go out and pick them. Guess who doesn’t like the sound of that? Florists, that’s who. They don’t want you picking your own flowers out of your front yard, they want you spending $35 per bouquet of “rare” and “exotic” flowers. They had to nix the dandelions. They had to give them a bad rap. But this isn’t politics. The florists couldn’t just launch a mudslinging campaign to character assassinate the dandelions. Florists can’t go around accusing flowers of being weeds it’s too obvious. So what then?

The florist fatcats and their companies set up a lawn maintenance division (on the down low) and made dandelion poison and started marketing it as weed removal. How genius! They convinced all of America that the harmless yellow flowers in your yard are actually like a tumor choking your healthy grass. Now you need to rush to the store to by Preen so the “Dandelions don’t take over” while the florists laugh all the way to the bank. Meanwhile, you suckers spend big bucks buying flowers that are covered in thorns. Tell me I am crazy.

The Truth About Dandelions

So why exactly do we need to STOP THE DANDELIONS so badly? They help your lawn, help attract pollinating bugs, they have medicinal properties, and you can even eat them. Sounds like we should be doing the opposite of spraying weed killer on them. Sounds like they are the truffles of the flower world.

The Genocide Regime

The “about us page” of www.preen.com. Observe how preen claims they have been murdering dandelions since 1947. What an interesting year… Do you know what happened in 1947? The BABY BOOM that’s what! The returning WWII vets were having tons of wild sex all over the United States. How do you “seal the deal” for some wild sex? No it’s not Rohypnol; These are old fashioned people, they send flowers.

What else? A bunch of unused toxic chemicals from the war are up for grabs, and they are cheap! How timely for a “lawn maintenance” company to start up. What an ideal time to demonize dandelions and gouge the public with “exotic” flower prices! After all, no one is getting laid giving a girl a bouquet of weeds right?

Go spend money on roses son, and while you are at it, buy some preen and clean up that weed infestation on your lawn.

And the fat cats get richer … You know what else is interesting?

Think about it.

Mindless Masses

Two sides to the final battle
both are equally right;
but it’s not the people
Those easily convinced
their persuasion binds.
Collecting undecided
and curious minds.

From either side of the fence
the other is misunderstood.
The intention of both leaders
is truly for the good.
Their hatred for each other
an illusion taught in classes.
The only thing they truly hate
are the mindless masses.

Moscow on the Hill

I recently visited Moscow on the Hill in St. Paul. Pretty adorable Russian place, although I little over priced. The most priceless part of the trip was the hilarious drink menu. Just look at all those golden Russian cliches and puns! This isn’t even all of them, only about half. One of the best was the “Russian Concussion” haha.

You Want Shocking?

Don’t tell me the Canadians make bad public service announcements. Don’t even tell me that.



The Bad Beat Album: Poker

I used to play poker more than I do now and I loved to take screenshots of imminent beats. Here is the juice of the fruit of my labor.


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Rhetorical Questions, Just for Fun

I was listening to the radio, enjoying myself relaxing when they host began listing “fun things to think about.” My relaxation was destroyed as I found myself screaming back at the radio about how stupid these fun facts were. I have heard all of them before, and they always get me really pissed off. I would like to lay them to rest right here and now.

If the “black box” is nearly indestructible and always survives the plane crash why don’t they build the whole plane out of the black box?

Well first there is the probably easy answer. The black box is probably just 5 inch thick steel, or some crazy super strong alloy. It would either be too expensive to make a plane out of it, or too heavy for the plane to fly efficiently. Secondly, just because the black box is “indestructible” doesn’t mean that soft human bodies would survive if it dropped from 38,000 feet. Just because a fucking electronic recorder can make it out alive doesn’t mean 200 passengers will. The black box isn’t some kind of mystery that defies all laws. Falling from the sky is falling from the sky no matter what color box you are in. Don’t ever ask this question again.

Why don’t psychics ever win the lottery?

This one is less serious because I assume we all know the answer. Because they are fake and can’t actually know the future. However this got me thinking … Every psychic in the WORLD should constantly be trying to win the lottery because the one day one of them does… Well, he will be the most successful psychic in the world. Think about it! He just won himself the lottery! If I won the lottery I would probably start a psychic network just to capitalize.

If 4-5pm is the slowest time to drive, why do they call it rush hour?

Man this one really pissed me off. Here is why: because that is when everyone is “rushing” to get home from work!? You get it? They are RUSHING home, but because EVERYONE is rushing they slow traffic down. What is there to get?

Why do kamikaze pilots where helmets?

“Derrrrrrrrr I mean they are JUST going to suicide anyway why would they protect their head?” Well I don’t know … maybe they don’t know for a fact it’s going to be suicide? Maybe because they don’t want to get killed BEFORE suiciding? Or maybe it’s because the helmet is full of equipment and audio devices? Or maybe it’s just tradition and habit? Probably lots of reasons.

Why do they sterilize lethal injection needles?

How do you know they do? I bet probably they get a new needle from a package every time. I don’t know for sure, but either do you, and either does the fucking asshole that posed this question in the first place.

Tom: Bartender God

I used to be like you. I used to be a regular guy. Sometimes I would go to bars and enjoy a drink. I have seen, and talked to my fair share of bartenders. Some men, some women, some good some bad, but never really thought much of it: they are just people making a living. One Friday night at a Green Mill in Roseville, everything changed for me when I saw Tom behind the bar.

As soon as he took my order, his voice distinctly proud and confident, I knew he was something special. I watched.

No. I admired him work for the rest of the night. I was not disappointed.

The bar gradually started filling up. I watched as all the empty seats around me were taken up by people of various sorts: some happy and celebrating, some depressed and convalescing. Tom took all of their orders promptly and delivered their beverages quickly without fail. But it wasn’t just that. Doing that is just part of being a good bartender. With Tom it was different. There was something special about his style. His arms moved so fast around the bar, sometimes I could hardly see them. I would blink once and he had already put away one bottle and opened another. Tom’s footsteps were firm and accurate: never a stumble, never a fumble. His facial expression didn’t change; he held he same handsome smile the entire time I watched him.

Occasionally, he would converse with a customer and have a chuckle over some joke he had obviously heard a hundred times before. I watched Tom grab four highballs and fill them with ice. Enamored by how skillfully he wielded the ice scoop, I almost failed to notice the ice in the glasses. Each glass was filled to exactly the same level with ice. I bet if one took the time to count the number of cubes in each glass, all four would have the same amount.

Tom then grabbed three full liquor bottles in one hand. He lifted all three up like they were empty and began to pour drinks. The finger and hand strength amazed me. Tom must be able to crush anyone’s hand if he gave a truly “firm” handshake. That is, if he ever needed to. After all the drinks were expertly poured, Tom deftly stuck a lemon wedge on the rim of one of the glasses. I spent a millisecond to think about what drink that might be, when I noticed there was now a lemon wedge on all four glasses. He grabbed four cherries, then four sword-shaped toothpicks. He impaled all four cherries directly through the center with the sword-picks, a feat unto itself, then impaled each cherry-sword combo through a lemon wedge.

The bar was booming. People couldn’t even walk past one another. Everyone needed service, everyone needed their bills. Any other bartender at any other bar would say, “Forget the cherries, it’s too busy for the cherries tonight.” Not Tom. It’s never too busy for cherries when Tom is behind the bar. As a matter of fact, it is never “busy.” Tom has transcended neophyte ideas like “slow” and “busy.” Tom understands bartending on a higher level. The bar only has two states: a state of order, and a state of disorder. It is Tom’s job to bring the bar to order.

There is no stress, no panic, just the belief and confidence that he is “The Bartender” and it is his destiny. Tom elevates bartending from an occupation to an art form. Tom is a true master of his craft with a superior understanding of theories mere mortals couldn’t possibly comprehend. Tom is a bartender God.