- Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master
- He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
- She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
- She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
- Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
- He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
- The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
- The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
- From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
- Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
- Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
- John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
- He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.
- Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap. The trap had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
- The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
- The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
- He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
- The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
- It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
- He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
- She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
- It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
Cookies – by Douglas Adams (luat copy/paste din feed-ul de pe Facebook)
This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong. I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table. I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind. Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies.
There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase. It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it. Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know. . . But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do? In the end I thought, Nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened.
I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, That settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie. Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice . . .” I mean, it doesn’t really work. We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies. The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.
You haven’t lived until you’ve received a complaint in the form of a windows desktop screenshot of a tracert.exe window embedded in a word document, zipped, with porn windows open in the background.
In 1901 Preşedintele MacKinley este asasinat în timp ce vizita Expoziţia Pan-Americană din Bufallo. Dat fiind că în 1901 nu existau CIA, Mafie, KGB sau fundamentalişti arabi pe care să se dea vina pentru asasinat, până la urmă americanii au fost nevoiţi să dea vina chiar pe criminal. (via DailyCotcodac)
De dimineata rasfoind asa blogurile, am dat peste un link de la Pitici Gratis cu o lista de pozitii de futai tembele.
Roaba galopantă: În timp ce i-o tragi capră (ştii cum e capră, sper, doar nu eşti idiot, nu?), o apuci de coapse sănătos. Exact în acelaşi timp i-o înfigi în cur până la rădăcină şi îi ridici picioarele în aer. Confuzată şi luată prin surprindere, va începe să pedaleze din mâini, ca să îşi scoată mătărânga din bostan, răcnind cât o ţin plămânii. Tu o ţii în continuare sănătos de craci, să nu îi pună în pământ şi o menţii adânc înfiptă, alergând după ea. E lejer, nu scapă că tu dai din picioare şi ea din mâini.
De ce e excitantă: Habar n-am. Da’ e hazlie
Unde se poate practica: Şi în casă, da’ cel mai bine pe un loc întins, să aibă unde să pedaleze. Pajişte, sală de sport, ce vrea muşchii tăi
Câte calorii se ard: Oho. Căcălau. Mai ales ea. Se ard 100 numa de la cât o să i se bulbuce ochii.
De fiecare data cand o citesc ma iasa asa rasul de e pericol. Si io cam rad, nu ma joc :))
If the global crisis continues, by the end of the year, only two Banks will be operational, the Blood Bank and the Sperm Bank. Logically…. Those 2 banks will merge and will be called ‘The Bloody Fucking Bank’
auzita de la wolfy via #mumu
.. in different metal genres:
The protagonist arrives on a harley, kills the dragon, drinks a few beers and fucks the princess.
The protagonist arrives riding a white unicorn, escapes from the dragon, saves the princess and makes love to her in an enchanted forest.
The protagonist arrives, fights the dragon, saves the princess and fucks her.
The protagonist arrives with some friends playing acordions, violins, flutes and many more weird instruments, the dragon falls asleep (because of all the dancing). Then all leave…without the princess.
The protagonist arrives in a ship, kills the dragon with his mighty axe, skins the dragon and eats it, rapes the princess to death, steals her belongings and burns the castle before leaving.
The protagonist arrives, kills the dragon, fucks the princess and kills her, then leaves.
The protagonist arrives at midnight, kills the dragon and impales it in front of the castle. Then he sodomizes the princess, drinks her blood in a ritual before killing her. Then he impales the princess next to the dragon.
The protagonist arrives, kills the dragon and spreads his guts in front of the castle, fucks the princess and kills her.Then he fucks the dead body again, slashes her belly and eats her guts. Then he fucks the carcass for the third time, burns the corpse and fucks it for the last time.
The protagonist arrives, screams something completely undecipherable for about 2 minutes and then leaves…
The protagonist arrives, sees the size of the dragon and thinks he could never beat him, then he gets depressed and commits suicide. The dragon eats his body and the princess as dessert. That’s the end of the sad story.
The princess in a velvet costume starts singing soprano. The protagonist completes the duet by adding the beast part, while the dragon plays the flute. Suddenly he swallows up the pipe and accidentally scorches the beauty and the beast and suffocates to death. All their souls are damned in hell’s eternity.
The protagonist arrives with a guitar and plays a solo of 26 minutes. The dragon kills himself out of boredom. The protagonist arrives to the princess’ bedroom, plays another solo with all the techniques and tunes he learned in the last year of the conservatory. The princess escapes looking for the Heavy Metal protagonist.
The protagonist arrives wearing greasy overcoat, makes an obscene gestures towards dragon, and gets escorted out of fairy tale land by security guards.
Suddenly there, short solo, dragon is confused, someone’s screaming weird stuff, princess realizes she’s been deflowered, dragon and princess are still looking for the one who did this.
The protagonist rides in on his way home from church and sings a mushy power ballad to the dragon about how much Jesus loves him and that the dragon should turn to Him. The Dragon is immediately converted, and when the princess wants to ‘thank’ the protagonist he replies, “Sorry, but I don’t believe in having sex before marriage.”
The protagonist arrives, the dragon laughs at the guy’s appearance and lets him enter. He steals the princess’ make up and tries to paint the castle in a beautiful pink color.
The protagonist arrives with a legion of a hundred brave footman, war chariots and a dozen elite warriors and, as a master tactician, flanks the dragon in a bloody siege that lasts six hours. The princess gets bored.
The protagonist arrives in a run down Honda Civic and attempts to fight the dragon but he burns to death when his moronic baggy clothes catch fire.
The protagonist sees the dragon and moans about how hard it will be to get the princess to fall in love with him, he gets eaten. The princess is very happy, because he was a whiny fag anyway.
via #mumu, via http://aribancale.multiply.com/journal.