I was in Wexford replacing fans on a few computers for a small financial company, when the urge to let fly with a class ten fog horn special came upon me. It could not be denied. I was in a small copy room with a door and nobody was around so I figured I was safe. So I relaxed my shit snipper and, oh, it was grand. Had I been wearing bicycle shorts, I am certain that they would have ballooned out around me in a comical fashion.
The bouquet was grotesque and in the small room it was offensive even to me. Heavy sulfurous undertones with highlights of unprocessed sewage and cloying rootbeer; you know the kind.
So I'm finishing up changing these fans despite my stinging eyes, when the door to the copy center opens and in walk no less than three twittering early 20's female interns. Their conversation came to a dead halt after a few moments in the room. I was aghast. Whatever they had to do must have been important because they didn't leave. One stood at the copier waiting for her print job to spool and I think the others were printing postage together? or something?
It was simultaneously hilarious and humiliating, but also made me feel dominant somehow, as if I had raped all three of them and knew that I would get away with it.
"Don't want to sound like a fanboy, but I am with you. I'll buy it for sure, it's just a matter of for how long I will be playing it..."
- Silvast, Battle.net forums
Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite. - John Kenneth Galbraith
"Don't want to sound like a fanboy, but I am with you. I'll buy it for sure, it's just a matter of for how long I will be playing it..."
- Silvast, Battle.net forums
quote:
In a disastrous attempt to be funny and clever, Steven Steve wrote:
BRANLE BRANLEHHHH!! HO HO HO! BRANLE!
sorry?
