the author tells you of the many things out there that make him want to
become a master thief with an exceptionally large basement to hoard the
myriad material things worth owning and loving.
day. The love of consumption is a shameful yet glorious thing as
evidenced by the many odd and showy collections many of us have in our
homes whether it be things we now regret [my 40 long boxes of comic books I’d part with for a pittance] or the ones we wear as badges of pride [my neatly organized and alphabetized to a “T” DVD collection].
Some folks say that these kinds of material things ruin us and make us
slaves to pop culture and for many it does. For others like myself,
some stuff whether frivolous or not, simply must be gotten. For those
people, I present this new subcolumn.
1. Jesus Built My Half Pipe.
If you look like Peter Strauss and love the Lord you need this shirt. Skateboarding experience optional.
I love how a company can form that takes anything and everything from the world of the heathen and ‘improves’ it for the Christies. Why skateboard when you can CHRISTIAN skateboard? Why not strap on some CHRISTIAN Crocs? Have you ever punched a kid at your favorite street corner wearing a CHRISTIAN doo rag? Why wipe your ass heat with toilet tissue when you can wipe it with CHRISTIAN toilet tissue?
That’s why I only shop Vision Pew Wear.
Never mind, I just realized who’s in the picture. The most amazing boarder ever…
- If you die, you gotta face St. Ollie.
- God’s rad, dude.
- Actually he looks more like William Sanderson than Peter Strauss. Notice the scarring around the mouth.
- That fish was totally Photoshopped. Cocksucker’s probably not even saved.
First of all I bought this as well as the Unicorn vs. Narwhal and the Avenging Narwhal sets so you can rest assured that this is a 22% honest retail suggestion. The rest is bullshit.
Mime hate is boring. It’s easy. Just like being afraid of Patrick Ewing or ripping George Lucas. It’s tired.
Also, unicorns are beings of peace, not slaughter. They exist in the space between dreams, galloping on cloud vapors and pulling their hooves up high in incredibly adorable poses as they do. They do not harm others and if given the choice between harming a human or squashing one of Mother Nature’s adorable animals, the unicorn always chooses to grow fingers so it can load bullets into a clip and shoot itself in the face.
This toy is offensive. I can’t wait until it arrives at my home.
- Unicorns always seem to win the Gallup Poll.
- If you leave this in the car for too long it becomes the Barbaro Playset.
- Unicorns do not use their horns for combat, but to spread joy one demonic lunge at a time.
- Anne Rice’s pussy probably smells like a crematorium.
I don’t know about you but I poop in four shapes exclusively:
1. Oscar Mayer Floater.
2. Was It Curved Inside Me?
3. Ralph Bellamy Lives!
4. Jackson Pollock During the Solstice.
The Turd Twister is an object for sale that is being billed as a gag gift but in all actuality is a device sent from heaven (please have something skateboard themed in your poop arsenal, Turd Twister) that you put near your ass spout to shape the droppings you create as they fall, filling the commode with stars and squares and majestic brown polygons.
This is an idea worthy of Namor himself.
They bill it as a gag gift but WE KNOW. Someone probably used it wrong, shat an Isosceles when they’d aimed for an Equilateral, threatened legal action and forced these inventors to cover their asses under the comfortable warmth of the “Gag Gift” umbrella.
The Turd Twister will change us as a people. Just you wait.
- WARNING: DO NOT TRY THIS WITH PISS.
- Not to be confused with Turd Twister, the new board game from Milton Bradley
- I clenched too long and Gumby happened.
- The Turd Twister molds make for excellent spinach dip containers.
Much to my chagrin, this item is not available for sale anymore, but for your pleasure the purchase link still takes you someplace glorious.
In some respects, a costume of a Village Person is a good idea, because they were a society of iconic role models. To be a Village Person was to carry your pride in a small hand basket at your side. A murse.
To be a Village Person was to emphasize what made you special and unique but with distinction and subtlety. To be a Village Person is to distill culture into something wonderful and flavorful. To be a Village Person is to stand tall and flit about the room delicately.
In the 70’s parents dressed their little amazings as Village Persons without impunity. It was a glorious time where a plastic mask and a Hefty Bag was a costume. Today, it’s rape transport.
Are we better or worse now? I cannot decide.
- If you can’t tell if your child is wearing the mask or not, you are the parent of the biker from the Village People.
- Someone needs to find out if these plastic bags are bulletproof.
- FACT: If you wear this to the mall you’ll win a free toaster/pipe beating.
- The generation of kids who wore these costumes is entering power in America.