I am an adult who is not afraid to buy a balloon and visibly enjoy it in front of others. I’ll buy a balloon on the street or at a hospital gift shop and just walk around for hours listening to Lionel Richie on my giant headphones…. Just smoke a bone while “floating” through Boston Common as “Running with the Night” plays with the shadows in my ear canals [oh, yes!] ….and that… that’s when you stop and you turn your head up, and to the right, and appreciate that shiny, swollen ball of joy on a string. “Hello there, balloon. I love everything about you, except your outie asshole.” Come to think of it Lionel Richie kind of looks like a swollen outie asshole. Kind of like when in porn movies the chicks open up their assholes so they’re gaping and it looks like Satan’s toothless mouth exhaling or something. That’s what Lionel Richie looks like, but that is not what he sounds like - oh no, dear friends - when Lionel sings, he sounds like the mirthful utterances of Angels when they listen to Lionel Richie on their giant headphones.
P.S. Do not suggest adding roller skates to my balloon and Lionel ensemble. It has been proposed and rejected as too obvious.
This has always been one of my favorite internet videos. This man’s utter humiliation is an endless source of joy for me. The breezy, unruffled black newsman personality he worked his whole lifetime to construct becomes totally unravelled in half a second. There’s no coming back from this. The day that happened to him, was his effective death date.
This is how they set out to make the ad: Let’s find the biggest nightmare chick in the world, put a nightmare pink beret thing on her head, and have her perform a nightmare “dance” INSIDE THE LAST FUCKING PLACE ANYONE SHOULD BE DANCING, A MOVING CAR!
Even more annoying, is that you could feel through your TV set how fucking COOL the people who made this commercial thought it was.
I express myself freely about this because I feel that people who are terrible, but are unaware that they are terrible, need to be told that they are terrible.
Pink hat Mitsubishi nightmare chick didn’t know she was terrible, so I am telling her now that she’s SO TERRIBLE, that ten years later I still have nightmares about her wriggling her arms and break-dancing with a seatbelt.
I’m pretty sure I’m a super hero. Sometimes I’ll drop like a bottle cap or something and before it hits the ground I grab it with lightning fast reflexes. Then I look around to see if anyone saw it, and of course there’s no one around. But then I get the sense that someone was watching me and I realize that it’s probably another super hero out there with like amazing eyesight who saw me from like a mile away, you know, because he’s looking out for other potential super heroes so he can call on them when the time comes. Basically, my plan now is to wait to be called upon to join an assembling group of superheroes so we can defeat……Ron Perlman!
Very little is funnier to me than when Ron Perlman plays anything but a monster. This is a photo of him from “Sons Of Anarchy.” I love the guy, but please, anytime he plays a real guy, all I can think is that he’s a really badly disguised undercover monster.
Why do boring people always have to try so hard to make you think they’re not boring. Like they’re always the ones who take up skydiving or travel to Africa for no reason. These types of dull people are always the ones sayin they’re like part Cherokee and stuff when they clearly are not. Just be boring and leave me alone.
1. Watch the opening sequence of “Contact” where you pull back from Earth and you hear all the different radio signals that we’ve sent out over the years and there’s all these different serious news bulletins and JFK speeches and stuff, and then you hear Dean Martin’s “Volare” and you smile thinkin’ about Dino flyin’ through space with like a cocktail in his hand!
2. Spend an extra three minutes on the can squeezing out that extra little bit of shit that will make or break your day.
3. Take three Vicodin, wait a minute, then do three shots of vodka, wait a minute, then do three bong hits, wait thirty seconds, then spend the last thirty seconds turning on my Xbox and sitting in my beanbag chair to play Skyrim for 300 AMAZING minutes.