Did you know?
If you take out your intestines and unwrap them into a straight line, they will be long enough to circle the earth twice!
can you do it with a mahogany crayon
Looking forward to death by Aloha Blue
Taco Bell time! You’re starving. “I’d like a chalupa and a Coke, please,” you say.
“No problem!” beams back the cashier. He punches the order into the cash register touchscreen. “Would you like—”
Your train of thought is derailed by the unbidden phrase EXTRA MEAT. Oh, does that sound good. EXTRA MEAT. “Hang on, sorry. Could I get that with extra meat?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” His fingers fly across the screen.
Another thought comes to you. Something revolutionary. The world stops turning, and your mouth waters. “No, wait. Stop.”
The cashier pauses. “Sir?” he says, half-frozen. You take a moment to read his nametag.
“Look— uh, Ben, I’m worried that you don’t understand what I mean,” you say. “When I say I want extra meat, I want extra meat. I want that whole shell to be filled with meat.”
The chatter inside the restaurant stops. Employees behind the counter glance at you fearfully. Silence takes over Taco Bell.
Ben’s grin falters and dies. “Excuse me. I think you don’t know what you’re asking for. Sir,” he says. He spits out that “sir” like it dirties his mouth, because he hates you, now, and he knows that he is powerless to stop what is coming.
“Oh, but I do, Ben,” you say, and you revel in his fear. “I do know what I’m asking for.”
Ben throws one last Hail Mary. He tries to be brave, protect all that he believes in, all that he stands for, but he is scared, and he can’t stop his voice from cracking as he asks: “Are you sure, sir? Please. Please don’t. What… what about the other toppings?”
A gasp comes from somewhere behind you. An employee faints; he is carried out by two others.
“No tomatoes?” asks Ben, incredulously.
“No tomatoes,” you confirm.
“No sour cream?”
“No. Sour. Cream.”
“No… lettuce?” manages Ben, in a low wheeze. He is near tears.
You are impassive. You are without mercy. And you will be without lettuce. “No lettuce,” you say to Ben the cashier, and all the light leaves his eyes. Behind you screams abound and glass shatters. There is a mass exodus as Taco Bell’s guests trample each other to get out of that accursed place, and away from what you have wrought upon them.
In the aftermath there are five sprained ankles, six fractured bones, seven concussions, and countless lacerations on the arms and legs of those who escaped through the windows. But in the present, there is no escape for poor, poor Ben.
He falls to his knees.
“Oh, God,” says Ben, but you know the truth. There is no God. There is only EXTRA MEAT.
And I feel super bad (as in having kinda terrible hangover now) after partying at my friend's place
I drank the whole litter of that
96-95 oh my lord
What a way to lose.
Didn't watch the entire game, but I heard it was pretty bad
Charles Barkleys prediction IS NOT A JOKE
This +4 bounces.
Fiji was elected Delegate of the North Pacific!