Here we have a silly person, seen in his native habitat: the wild, attempting to eat a foodstuff that is obviously too damn big for him. The foodstuff in question is a giant mango, which is in fact so large that the farmer evidently needed to use bits of green metal to prop it up.
But here’s the silliest thing about this whole endeavor: Look at the green at the top. It’s not ready to eat yet! Clearly, it’s going to be another 70 or 80 years before this mango is ripe enough to attempt to bite into.
Here you have two guys, holding a giant dog biscuit. AND THEY’RE JUST STANDING THERE! Don’t you fools realize that if there is a dog anywhere nearby that is able to eat such a biscuit, you would become nothing more than a pair of doggy toothpicks? DROP THE DAMN THING AND RUN FOR THE HILLS!
All of that said, I think it’s a nice looking biscuit. I bet if I were around, I would find it hard not to indulge in a little nibble. You can be damn sure, though, that I’d do it quickly, then make a run for it. Giant dogs scare the bejeezus out of me.
Here’s a new song I wrote. Sing it to the tune of “Fire Burning” by Sean Kingston:
“Somebody call 911, there’s a giant golden idol head of Bast, driven mad by centuries of bloodlust, getting ready to devour a young lady foolish enough to pause for a moment in her wake …
“um, on the dance floor.”
American tastes have done nothing but escalate over the past five decades; since the first highway was laid down, it has been a one-way societal trip to ever bigger portions, desires, needs, wants. The seeds that Ray Kroc planted have grown into a super-sized tree of gluttony, excess and insatiable desires.
Oh sure, it’s all fun and games to go sitting inside one of these giant shoes and saying “Hey, take a picture of me! Look at me! I’m sitting in a giant shoe!” Congratulations. Good for you. But somewhere, probably not far away, there’s a morbidly large Dutch boy who can’t play on the baseball team because of his size, and he sheds a tear, not just for the jerk you are but for the fact that he can’t find his giant yellow curly-toed shoe.
WHAT HAS SCIENCE WROUGHT!?!?
Oh jeez, I need to calm down. This “progress” is really getting to me. We now hatch families? Sexual reproduction wasn’t good enough for us as a species? I understand now why the Doctor occasionally turns a blind eye to our plight, ashamed of humanity.
CURSE YOU ALIEN VISITORS AND YOUR “HELPFUL TECHNOLOGY”!!
Boy, I really need to find out what store this is in, because I need to make sure I never take my dog in there. She’s getting up in the years, but she doesn’t realize it. So she’d totally try to devour this thing, which her aging GI tract would have problems with. Dogs are just like people, aren’t they? We always think we can take on more than we actually can. Life’s funny like that.
You know, the more I look at this, the more I’m starting to think that this isn’t actually a dog biscuit.
The first known ruler dates back to the Indus Valley civilizations, more than 3,000 years ago. They were crude but surprisingly accurate instruments, carved from ivory and nicked with measurements.
This ruler, on the other hand, is made from a giant plank of flooring. It can be used to measure all sorts of things! Like other pieces of flooring, perhaps. Or the heights of several girls. All sorts of practical uses for this comically large ruler.
Also, and this is pivotal: Helllloooo ladies!
