Salt Life stickers are a sure sign that you can hustle someone in a high stakes surf contest. It usually works out until they meet a nice unassuming local girl (who has been there the whole time) and recall their snowboard expertise.
The music thing kills me. Scrubs has a Hall of Fame sound track but Bill and co. didn’t do their due diligence. It made the show. Rain King with JD and Elliot bungee jumping is ICONIC. Imagine Turk air banding to royalty free bullshit. Disgraceful.
My nephew’s birthday is tomorrow so I’ll be handing him a $3 plastic golf set and swelling with disappointment when he uses it exclusively to attack trees
If it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my cause, wish not a soul born around the 90s from these United States
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, hippie jackasses, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And bus pass for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that hippie’s company
That fears his drunk meal to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Kraft
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Kraft.
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his drunk buddies,
And say “To-night we sup Saint Kraft.”
Then will he strip his midriff and show his stretch marks,
And say “These noodles I had on Kraft’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words—
Jenna of Crowley, Rico of Rum Running and that funny Dolphin guy—
Be in their flowing bowls freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good folk teach their son;
And Kraft shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers (and sisters);
For he to-day that sups on golden mac with me
Shall be my brother (or sister) be they ne’er so vile
“I stood in the local convenience store, young, naive, and ready to take on the world. A siren song echoed from the beer fridge. Her eyes were blue with hints of silver. The first kiss was magical, like something out of a nudie mag in a truck stop bathroom and instilled a fire in my belly the likes of which could shake man or beast. We’ve been together ever since.” – the story I’ll tell my children when I hand them their first Busch Light at 15.
Mr. Ruff, I rediscovered Miller Genuine Draft (the beer I used to steal from my dad’s fridge) and have some supple chicken breastseses in the oven. A rice skillet and some peas with mushrooms on the side. Tonight I eat like a king.
Advertise
30 beers for 12 bucks. Tastes like old cheese until you’re three in. A beautiful beautiful brew.
Gonna make a YouTube channel where I just inform people about how memes work plz like n subscribe
“It’s not an easy month for you”
Shit.
Salt Life stickers are a sure sign that you can hustle someone in a high stakes surf contest. It usually works out until they meet a nice unassuming local girl (who has been there the whole time) and recall their snowboard expertise.
When the content is good >>>
The music thing kills me. Scrubs has a Hall of Fame sound track but Bill and co. didn’t do their due diligence. It made the show. Rain King with JD and Elliot bungee jumping is ICONIC. Imagine Turk air banding to royalty free bullshit. Disgraceful.
I can put this in words and those words are “shit I wish I was on my couch”
Very encouraging. Thanks. Have yourself a nice little weekend.
My nephew’s birthday is tomorrow so I’ll be handing him a $3 plastic golf set and swelling with disappointment when he uses it exclusively to attack trees
Huge get imo
OMG Lenny’s back!
I’m pretty stoked for Talladega Nights and Castlevania season 2 whenever it comes around.
If it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my cause, wish not a soul born around the 90s from these United States
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, hippie jackasses, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And bus pass for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that hippie’s company
That fears his drunk meal to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Kraft
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Kraft.
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his drunk buddies,
And say “To-night we sup Saint Kraft.”
Then will he strip his midriff and show his stretch marks,
And say “These noodles I had on Kraft’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words—
Jenna of Crowley, Rico of Rum Running and that funny Dolphin guy—
Be in their flowing bowls freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good folk teach their son;
And Kraft shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers (and sisters);
For he to-day that sups on golden mac with me
Shall be my brother (or sister) be they ne’er so vile
Just punch the wall bud. Or go to the bar and punch something fleshier.
Oh boy Drew if you like variety do I have a playlist for you…
3 LITTLE ORPHANS ONE TWO THREE, WITHOUT A HOME OR A FAMILY TREE, BUT THEN A HORSE SAID, LIVE WITH ME!
“I stood in the local convenience store, young, naive, and ready to take on the world. A siren song echoed from the beer fridge. Her eyes were blue with hints of silver. The first kiss was magical, like something out of a nudie mag in a truck stop bathroom and instilled a fire in my belly the likes of which could shake man or beast. We’ve been together ever since.” – the story I’ll tell my children when I hand them their first Busch Light at 15.
“Pot Likker” contains neither marijuana nor booze but has changed my life for the better. Old Appalachian deal. Look it up, we figured out Internet.
Nuclear war hopefully.
Mr. Ruff, I rediscovered Miller Genuine Draft (the beer I used to steal from my dad’s fridge) and have some supple chicken breastseses in the oven. A rice skillet and some peas with mushrooms on the side. Tonight I eat like a king.
What with all the race cars lasers and aeroplanes I’m sure it’s a duck blur.