You know what my first thought was when I saw this? “Resident Evil would totally kick ass on this!” Yeah, but of course, then I realized the error of my thinking – there’s no way you could get Resident Evil to run on an Atari 2600. I don’t care who you are, that’s not gonna happen! I guess I would settle for “Combat.” Or “Air-Sea Battle.”
What’s the only thing better than a round of golf? A round of golf with clubs that don’t make any sense! Now you can spoil a good walk in big-time style.
I’ve always heard that Australian rules football is different from ours, but I had no idea just how different it is. Turns out they don’t use a regular football but a giant inflatable sandwich. Let me tell you, it changes the whole dynamic of the game! For one thing, you can’t just have a single quarterback, because it takes two people to hold the ball. And they have to have some extraordinary upper body strength in order to throw it.
It does make for a very exciting game, though, if only for the spectacular nature of sacks. That plus the end-zone dance is so visually stimulating, it is almost pornographic.
“Here’s to good friends … tonight is kinda special!” Nothing sets off good times among a bunch of guys like a frighteningly large butt plug, the kind designed for horse owners. Get some of your broughams together, pop open some Pabst BR’s, fire up the Widespread Panic channel on the satellite radio, and pass around the butt plug. It just doesn’t get any better than this.
This is a hometown favorite here in Louisville, and I must confess a real soft spot for it. That said, I harbor a fear about this thing, and that is that some day scientists will accidentally spill something in a laboratory and a monstrously tall Buford Pusser will result. And then our ass is grass.
I’ve never really been a big fan of hockey, but make no mistake – I’d watch it religiously if they were required to use sticks such as this one. On the other hand, it would be very hard to handle this with any real precision, and I think the quality of the game as a whole might suffer.
Sporting events used to be so family friendly – what was better than taking the kids out to the ballpark, getting a few dogs and cokes and watching nine innings?
Those days are long gone, of course, because now we all live in fear of being smote by a hideously large bottle of barbeque sauce.
Also, this is as good a time as any to acknowledge an ongoing controversy, one that refuses to relent: namely, whether it is spelled “barbeque sauce” or “barbecue sauce.” Whatever the answer, we can all surely agree that this stupidly oversized bottle, which chooses to spell it “bar-b-q sause,” isn’t even trying to get it right.