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Sure She’s Beautiful, But What About Those Pants?

27 Aug

August 27, 2020

You what I like about Facebook? No, really, I mean it. Tell me, what the heck do I like about that thing? I dunno.

Anyway, an ad popped up on Facebook and interrupted my perusal of posts in the very engaging and thought-provoking  Brony Costume Tips I mean Jean-Paul Sartre Critical Analysis group. It was a UPS ad. And being the kind of guy I am, I actually looked at the comments in a United Parcel Service advertisement.

Be honest- you didn’t notice that I cut off most of the text, did you?

The comments fell into two basic categories:

  1. UPS SUCKZ!
  2. That girl is hot! Who is she?

This was probably not a good spend of the UPS ad budget.

Well, like any good husband I’m terrified of my wife, so I didn’t make a comment one way or the other on the hot-or-not-ness of the girl. I also didn’t comment on the general suckitude of UPS, but that was just out of sheer not-caringitude. (Longtime readers may recall that I was formerly an English teacher, though you couldn’t tell that from the last sentences.)

But I kept scrolling through the comments as frankly it was more interesting than the Brony costume sewing advice I mean Jean-Paul Sartre debate I had been reading. And as I kept scrolling, more interesting comments came up. A debate began to rage about her pants. What’s up with those shiny rubber Hammer pants?

That’s all I want to know now. What’s up with those pants? It’s got to be some exercise thing, right? Like you work out in those really warm and heavy pants that don’t breath and you sweat a lot and eventually you melt the pounds away due to sheer disgusting body fluid loss?

What’s up with those pants???

 

 

 

Game Night Will Never Be The Same

1 Aug

August 1, 2020

I’m on Facebook because, let’s face it, I’m just as bad as you. So as I was scrolling down my feed, this ad for a new game came by.

I did not click on that link. Last time I clicked on a random link it only took three minutes before some Ukrainian gangster stole my identity. For all you wondering, this is why in the summer of 2018 this blog suddenly became

Рік грошей містера Блогу, яким ви їдете (Rik hroshey mistera Blohu, yakym vy yidete).*

Anyway, it’s a game that let’s you play as your dog! I have no idea how that can be any fun at all, but that has to be tons of fun, right? RIGHT??? After all, just think of all the great things your dog does: 

  • sleeps
  • eats
  • poops
  • sniffs butts
  • poops
  • eats
  • sleeps

OK, I know what you are thinking, “Mr. Blog, come on. that’s your life. Everyday, to a T.” Well, yeah, you got me. Add in some night terrors and random sweating and yep, that’s my life. 

But now I can have another life, my dog’s life. The only thing stopping me is the fact that I don’t own a dog, but so what? Who doesn’t want to be a dog? Except, everybody, I mean. Don’t get me started on cat owners.

Well, when this game popped up on my feed I have to be honest and say that my first response was very funny but not particularly in good taste. (No, it was not a shih tzu joke.) So if you want to read the joke, you will have to run it through Google Translate. And if you do, don’t blame me. I warned you. It may be tasteless but it is funny….

Чудово! Тепер я можу нарешті стукнути цю суку по сусідству! (Chudovo! Teper ya mozhu nareshti stuknuty tsyu suku po susidstvu!)

I should probably warn you that my response was NSFW. I should have probably have warned you earlier but hey, I’ll just blame that on the Ukranian gangster again. Is it any better if I tell you that I meant “bitch” as in a female dog? 

Клацніть посилання та направляйте гроші в колишній радянський синдикат. (Klatsnitʹ posylannya ta napravlyayte hroshi v kolyshniy radyansʹkyy syndykat).*

* Feel free to run this through Google Translate too

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