Cojawfee posted:

I used to be a bean cop a long time ago.

And I'd get called out on domestic toots all the time, hundreds probably over the years.

But there was this one guy, this one piece of poo poo that I will never forget. Gordy, he looked like Bo Svenson, you remember him? Walking Tall? You don't remember? Anyway, big boy. 270, 280. But his wife, whatever she was, his lady...was real small. Like a bird. Wrists like little branches. Anyway, my partner and I got called out there every weekend, and one of us would pull her aside and say "come on, tonight’s the night we press charges." And this wasn’t one of those deep-down he-loves-me set-ups — we get a lot of those — but not this. This girl was scared. She wasn’t going to cross him, no way, no how. Nothing we could do but pass her off to the EMT’s, put him in a car and drive him downtown, throw him in the stink tank. He sleeps it off, next morning out he goes. Back home.

But one night, my partner’s out sick, and it’s just me. And the call comes in and it’s the usual crap. Broke wind in the shower kind of thing. So I cuff him, put him in the car and away we go. Only that night, we’re driving into town, and this sideways rear end in a top hat is in my back seat humming "Danny Boy." And it just rubbed me wrong. So instead of left, I go right, out into nowhere. And I kneel him down, and I put my revolver in his mouth, and I told him, "This is it. This is how it ends." And he’s crying, going to the bathroom all over himself, swearing to God he’s going to leave beans alone. Screaming … as much as you can with a gun in your mouth. And I told him to be quiet. Cause I needed to think about what I was going to do here. And of course he got quiet. Goes still. And real quiet. Like a dog waiting for dinner scraps. And we just stood there for a while, me acting like I’m thinking things over, and Prince Charming kneeling in the dirt with poo poo in his pants. And after a few minutes I took the gun out of his mouth, and I say, "So help me if you fart on her again I will such-and-such and such-and-such and blah blah blah blah blah".

Just trying to do the right thing. But two weeks later he killed her sense of smell. Of course. Caved her olfactory system in with a can of Bush’s Brown Sugar Hickory. We got there, there was so much fart you could taste the sulfur. The moral of the story is: He chose a full measure, when he shouldn’t have gone all the way. I’ll never make that mistake again.

No more full measures (of beans), Stacey.

Bobby Digital posted:

GrimGypsy posted:

A lot of gamergatey types genuinely support Trump because they think he'll bring back the face touching thing in fire emblem

Javid posted:

Load-bearing poster.

Bad Munki posted:

Aren't we all.

Forer posted:

1 easy way to burn to death because the fire department doesn't know about your stupid hidden room.

1: make a hidden room.

kiimo posted:

Funny story when we delivered these somebody stole the Jennifer Lawrence standee so we had to replace it.

Girl in my office: what would anybody want with a Jennifer Lawrence standee?

Me: are you sure you want the answer to that question?

Rough Lobster posted:

I had a friend who worked at a movie theater in high school, and he gave me two Will Smith cardboard cutouts from I Am Legend when the theater was done with them. I brought them home and put them in the garage. One night I come home from work to a police car with lights on outside my house so I run inside and meet my pissed off mom and two cops. My mom went to grab something from the garage and saw two black guys standing right on the edge of the light, locked the door and called the cops.

This is literally the only story I know involving these things, so yeah.

Glamorama26 posted:

This is a good story, but I have one question: Why did you want those Will Smith cutouts in the first place?

I'm eyeballin' you Rough Lobster.

Jedit posted:

Are you sure you want the answer to that question?

Mierenneuker posted:

If Home Alone taught me anything it's that a cutout of a tall black man is tremendously useful.

Pissflaps posted:

Good....good. Only two others could have challenged me for the Hollywood blowjob queen crown and they're busy arguing with each other over who is most autistic. Everything is falling in to place

Sleeveless posted:

Once I was doing contract work for a middle school and I was in the building before school opened for the students and there was this much older-looking kid at the end of the hallway glaring at me. I was kind of freaked out until I got closer and realized that it was a cardboard cutout of Jacob from the Twilight movies.

Sleeveless posted:

It must be a special kind of hell to be hurtling into middle age and measuring the passage of years not with the anniversary of your wedding or the birthdays of your children or your promotions at work but with the annual iterations of the bad mountain climbing thread.

Gobbeldygook posted:

my list of inherently untrustworthy groups of people:

6. picky eaters
5. white south african ex-pats
4. libertarians
3. opiate addicts
2. BMW drivers
1. white people with dreads

Agrikk posted:

Okay, so on Friday I was on a call with a partner and some of its sub contractors. Maybe ten of us on the call.

Partner decided that we needed, needed, to have video enabled on the WebEx session to build teamwork since most of us work remotely and in different countries, etc.

Meeting progresses and about 45 minutes in, one of the subcontractors stands up in front of his chair at his desk, drops trou and boxers, sits back down and starts to rub one out. On camera.

I cannot un-see this.

nitrogen posted:

And i thought taking a bongrip and forgetting to mute was bad

Volmarias posted:

This guy did one better with the bone grip.

Paladinus posted:

I like cats. Don't care about rabbits or dogs.

Cubone posted:

actually, you like dogs AND rabbits
first of all you want to give dogs big belly scratches that make their back legs go crazy and also pretend to throw things but not actually throw them and watch the dog go looking for them and then reveal you had it the whole time and ask who's a good dog? (it's them)
furthermore, you want to feed rabbits leafy greens and watch it disappear into their chubby little rabbit mouth and watch them clean their little faces with their little paws and their big ol expressive ears and snuggle the lil fuzzy muffins up against your chest and just generally appreciate their tiny mammalian love

i'm not sure why you would lie about this tbf

Murphy Brownback posted:

It was a thing back in middle/early highschool at least where I grew up. Not me personally, but if you ever interacted with theater kids/goths back then everything was potato this llama that. Basic "monkey cheese" stuff.

FAROOQ posted:

The potato famine was pretty hilarious

jodai posted:

No, it wasn't because there were no potatoes. Are you even paying attention?

Squizzle posted:

Criminals are a superstitious, cowardly lot, so my disguise must be able to strike terror info their hearts. I must be a creature of the night, white, terrible...a...a...

[Hitler ragdoll-crashes through the spaceship window, his prone form tumbling to rest in his own pooling blood at Corsair's feet.]

It's an omen! I shall become a Hitler!

LOVE LOVE SKELETON posted:

sorry to hijack the thread but i though about this again and was wondering if there's any media based around the idea of someone being exposed to the vital essence of men in great quantities and turning into a superhuman?

Wickerman posted:

not superhuman but sometimes it'll make a little human

Death By Yogurt posted:

i only wear it when i'm doin the goatse

wow rude posted:

This makes me think it's like a dance

Stretch your rear end from side to side
Let's do the goatse oh

Marshall Louis posted:

You can goatse if you want to
You can spread out your behind...

7c Nickel posted:

I have a CRT TV that was produced right before the big switchover to flatscreens. It weighs 235 pounds.

LethalGeek posted:

Congrats you will die with that TV

Antifreeze Head posted:

When it falls on him?

YeahTubaMike posted:

boom boom boom posted:

Awhile back I was talking to people and somehow the topic of Pokemon tattoos came up. I came to the conclusion that if I absolutely had to get a Pokemon tattoo, it would be a full backpiece of the deer with rainbow antlers, and the spaces between it's antlers would be filled with scenes from GLBT history drawn in a yaoi style, so I guess that one's my favorite cause it's the only one I've given serious thought to in the past decade

Panic! at Nabisco posted:

This was a general nerdy kid thing back then, I was a theatre kid in middle/high school and the llama/cheese/potato thing was everywhere. Almost certainly spawned from a flash animation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHNczNvOnGc

Albinoblacksheep was the poo poo in like 2003

nomadologique posted:

fascism is desire gone cancerous, running rampant on its own gently caress frenzy

of course it's sexy, it's the sexiest thing in the world, it is pure sex that wants to gently caress the entire universe into oblivion and die doing it

the fascist wants to cum so hard she cums her whole being out through the hole, it's like a prolapsed anus but existential

LITERALLY SHAKING posted:

She's an Illinois democrat so she's never leaving the senate.

Whip Slagcheek posted:

resting bort face posted:

The Love Song of J. Aspie Prufrock

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a neckbeard engorged with cheap gorditas;
Let us go, into certain half-deserted threads,
The caffeine-strung dread
Of restless nights in gimmick posters’ jokes
And hippie/neocon headbutting over Newsmax links:
Threads that follow like a tedious argument
About gun control and governments
To lead you to commit some fakeposting …
Oh, do not ask, “Who gives a poo poo?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In BYOB the goonettes come and go
Talking of their cooters and Halo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drainz,
can haz the soot that falls from chimneys on itz back,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October lol,
Curled once about the house, and haz a nap rofl.

And indeed there will be time
For the Photoshops that prompt us all to laugh,
or snarl, or scoff, or forward them to friends;
There will be time, there will be time
To ‘shop a shark with the head of a giraffe;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time to post about it on the forums:
the E/N threads which we all love to hate;
Time for you to spam emotes,
And time yet for a hundred quote not edits,
And for a hundred edits and quotes and edits,
Before the making of a bacon boat.

In BYOB the goonettes come and go
Talking of their titties and Halo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Will I get 5s?” and, “Will I get 5s?”
Time to turn back and delete the jive,
from Fark, from 4chan, from kotaku contrived—
(They will say: “mods please gas and ban!”)
My beefy-T, my chest hair rising thicky to my chins,
My neckbeard rich and modest, but asserted by a Sailor Moon pin—
(They will say: “lol animu fatty aspie FTW!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the multiverse?
In a minute there is time
For quotes and edits which an admin will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with Jap cartoons;
I know the voices dubbed with a dying fall
Beneath the J-pop from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that would not fit inside a human head,
And when I receive my anime pillow girl,
When I pin it underneath my flab, and thrust, and bawl,
Then how should I begin
To ask a human woman if she’d like to watch my animes?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms penned and inked with glorious Nippon care
(But in the screen’s light, endowed with brilliant blue hair!)
It is Pocky from the store
That makes me such a bore?
Arms that don’t jiggle when they move, no, not at all.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have lurked for years in many threads
And know the heart-felt honesty and bitter sarcasm
Of lonely men in boxer shorts, running Windows?…

I should have been a large-breasted woman-tiger
With a twenty-inch penis tentacle inside her.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Soothed by medication,
Asleep … tired … after masturbation,
Stretched on the floor, here beside the TV.
Should I, after Mountain Dews and snacks,
Have the strength to do some jumping jacks?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and gorged,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly greasy) sawed off upon a bus,
I am no Goku—and here’s no great fuss;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the snack stand sold out of Snickers,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the Dews, the Red Bulls, the Pepsis,
Among discussions of Final Fantasy
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the carrot with a smile,
To have squeezed myself in jeans too small
To sweat and toil and drop the pounds,
To say: “I am Naruto, with awesome hair,
Come back to ask you out, I shall ask you out”—
If one, startled right out of her chair,
Should say: “Why can’t we just be friends?
It’s best, it is. Just friends.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the Heroes and Teen Titans and the Wiki edits,
After the mangas, after the green teas, after the neko-cats meowing through the door—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if the fog of my ‘Sperger’s lifted:
Would it have been worth while
If one, grimaced at my face or startled from a chair,
And calling the police, should say:
“Why can’t we just be friends?,
It’s best, it is. Just friends.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Zuko, nor was meant to be;
Am the whipping boy, one that will do
To relieve the tension, rip a fart or two,
regale my friends about Evangelion,
let them laugh behind my back, shoulder the abuse,
Honorable, wise, and never one to whine;
admiring of samurai, but a bit obese;
At times, indeed, almost elephantine—
Almost, at times, a Beast.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall gorge myself on bacon-wrapped sausage rolls.

Shall I wash my hair today? Do I dare to eat a salad?
I shall wear my dirty sweatpants, and call this basement “palace.”
I have heard the Sailors singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them flying into battle in their suits
With hair the colors of the rainbow, and even black,
While I reach and pop the pimples on my back.

We have lingered in the afterhours of GBS
By false hyperlinks tricked with swap.avi red and brown
Till another Rickroll pwns us, and we frown.

nockturne posted:

http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=292845 (needs archives):

Avshalom posted:

as i understand it the presidential candidates have two sides. on the right is the republican party - donald trump, tom cruz and the kardashians. on the left is the democratic party - bernie sanders, hillary and obama. obama can't run again for president because he melted a gun into slag on national television. of the remaining candidates, only hillary and bernie have been proven not to start their campaigns by putting a child in blackface and then killing it. hillary says she's into sexy scrapbooking on tindr and she killed macklemore with a drone for loving up her navajo peace ceremony he was hired to preside over as witch doctor. bernie once put heinz ketchup on a taco. on the other hand hillary is in favour of illegalising the creole cultural identity and bernie says that if you can't handle him at his maoist you don't deserve him at his marxist. these candidates have to fight in a cage in every capital city in america. so far all have chosen extremely racist stage names and disgraced themselves in combat, after each bout a vote is collected from 60-year-old minion meme aggregators on facebook and if they don't feel like voting then someone in the white house just makes it up. jeb bush was involved at some point but i'm not sure whether anyone was meant to vote for him or if he was just there to make friends. after all the votes are collected the candidate with the most wins the biggest bomb in the world and the losers are sent back to college to find a new career. presidents rule until they die, upon which they're entombed under the white house with all their staff and family sacrificed and buried alongside them and their faces are carved into a mountain.

SuperMechagodzilla posted:

The moment I saw the police cars I just gave up, because I knew that this would not be the ghostbusters I'd been hoping for. I had anticipated something pure and good, but here was the darkness of police and moms, invading the special home I had created inside myself. I struggled to keep it out, held shut my eyes, but the punishing waves of the inception noise crashed against my walls. I was left shaken.

The moment I saw the police cars in the ghostbusters trailer, I instinctively pictured myself beneath their wheels. I imagined that I was in a videogame, and that nothing mattered anymore. The system, over which I once had direct control, had been rebooted; all my power had been diverted towards dark moms and their police.

The moment I saw the police cars in the ghostbusters reboot trailer, I remembered 9/11. The police were there on that day as well, helping moms instead of me. Like those in the trailer, the real cars drove away to where I could never catch and embrace them. I picture a police car the size of a cat, and it is voiced by lorenzo music. I hold it so tight that it dissolves into me and warms my flesh. There's an energy... Of course this is only a fantasy; I will never have the soft fur of those small police in the space beneath my skin. Music is gone from me.

SuperMechagodzilla posted:

The moment I saw the police cars in the ghostbusters trailer, I could feel them already interrogating me, forcing me to admit to sexist thoughts. I could feel a coating of sweat appear on my body, and I imagined the liquids of every man in the nation were being collected into a massive and ominous vat - like an artificial lake. But I did not despair, as I soon found that I could manipulate these liquids my thought. The lake would writhe and bulge with tentacular formations. Structures would grow, collapse, and grow again. I saw that, with sufficient concentration, I could produce a cube, a sphere... I knew that the moms had harvested my liquids for a grimdark purpose, but this was my chance to resist. So I channeled all my energies into one powerful image, and a figure began to rise from the lake. Ten stories tall, with thick arms and wry smile, an incredible Dad stood up and made his way towards the shore. I could see the texture of his beige jumpsuit, and the thought of his penis gave comfort to me.

Keith Stack posted:

nockturne posted:

http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=292845 (needs archives):

Pick posted:

nockturne posted:

http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=292845 (needs archives):

nockturne posted:

http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=292845 (needs archives):

titties posted:

I have archives and yet


Thanks for posting the poem or whatever though because it was touching and beautiful.

Judge Schnoopy posted:

RAADDDIIUUUMMM!!!!

Ape Has Killed Ape posted:

Don't worry, in roughly sixteen hundred years at least half of these problems will have been fixed.