This weekend also involves more quality time at the SAC, from what I understand some drinking, a movie, studying like mad, some cleaning, some fish, and a varity of other things that could prove fun.
The comment by friendpersondan:
I swear to god I thought you said that one of the things you had to do was 'cleaning some fish,' and then I immediately got this picture of you scrubbing a fish with a soapy brush while it tried to swim away. It was hilarious. I think you should do it.
"I got "nee-ner-na-boo-boo" from Maddy, who has recently learned that if you and your best friend put on lots of lipstick and then procede to kiss your white kitten, you get a pink kitten, a lesson that I trust will serve her well in later life."
Of course, then they made Cain and Abel, so maybe He just wanted some incest in His gay porn.
Okay, see now I'm just trying to be smited."
"Female Reproductive Organs (Henceforth called FROs) and their duties:
C. In times of Irene suffering great stress and instability, you may be called upon to cause Irene even greater stress by skipping your monthly menstrual cycle for a period of no less than three weeks and no greater than sixteen weeks. You are to perform this duty no less than three times a year. This will result in Irene having complete and utter panic attacks on a normal basis. Due to her lack of exercise, this is necessary to keep her heart at its aerobic best.
1. In case of the possibility that Irene's husband (aka sperm donor) gets a vasectomy, you will be required to cause Irene stress in other ways. Since she will no longer be concerned that she might be pregnant except for the slight worry of picking up free range sperm from a filling station toilet seat or a psychosomatic (note emphasis on 'psycho') pregnancy from her many deeply disturbing and naughty erotic dreams about Orlando Bloom, there must be some other way to make her miserable. The board suggests excessive bloating, mood swings, exceedingly painful ovulation, cramping that makes her curl up into a fetal position and cry like a girl and breasts that are so sensitive that her nipples can sense changes in barometric pressure and predict incoming storms."
homersonic proposes the following solution to losing American lives in Iraq and elsewhere:
I want to get them home as soon as humanly possible.
So here is my plan.
It's gonna take a lot of money, which we've never been afraid to lay out for worthwhile causes, and a lot of effort. But we're America, and we can do anything, right?
So here is the idea: Walt Disney's Dictator World.
Read the whole thing; it's hilarious. In a kind of sad way. But mostly hilarious. There are bobbleheads.
...It happened when I was a kid in high school in the late 70's. I had bought my dad a Superman tee shirt for Father's Day and he was wearing it on the job. He used to hang garage doors and fix their motors for a living. We're talking HUGE garage doors, like the ones on firehouses and warehouses, 40 feet tall or more. Some of the warehouses were in really bad neighborhoods, like on the Brooklyn docks, which is where my dad was working that day. A crazy looking, creepy guy shambled over and picked up my dad's tool box, with a couple of thousand dollars' worth of tools in it. My dad stopped him. The guy said, "I just want to borrow it!" My dad said he couldn't, and to clear out. The guy pulled a gun on him. He was really quite high, and seemed to have trouble aiming it, but his intent was pretty clear from the string of dirty words that streamed out of his mouth at that point. My dad ripped open his "Thompson's Overhead Door" mechanic's shirt to reveal the Superman logo'd tee shirt underneath. He said, "You can't shoot me, the bullets will just bounce off!" The guy stared at him in horror for a moment, said, "You're an even crazier bastard than I am!", dropped the toolbox and shambled away.
My dad was saved by genre!
"When The Rubber Meets The Road."
Come on, don't tell me you didn't get the mental image of a couple of post-horny teenagers tossing a used condom out the window of a car?