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Because Capitalism is so 20th Century.
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| Whatwhat?
| 04 Jul 2005
by Kroey |
"Good Morning Kroagnon, are you in a mood of adding some news?"
Yes sir, I believe I am.
Really though, we must ask ourselves upon that inquiry, what is news persay?
Obviously, it's something new. Dummy.
So what's new?
You probably did not know that I just drank two glasses of orange juice, (made from concentrate) did you?
While technically, that is infact news, it's not really very important, and will not really enhance your life on a day to day basis. So I won't tell you about my breakfast and my various other consumptions throughout the day.
So the new question is, what would be vital to tell you? It more likely than not should be educational, or uplifting in some fashion, something you can walk away from feeling a little better.
So, I've decided that I should depart some wisdom upon you that may or may not be news, but probably was not on your mind prior to reading this.
You're going to fucking die someday.
It's completely unavoidable. Prolongable? Yes, avoidable? Fuck no.
Now that this fact is contemporarily in your mind, dwell on it for a moment so that you can fully realize the implications.
Now I realize this theme may be a sensitive subject for the younger readers, but fear not! BTTG.net is, of course, geared towards the K-12 crowd. (You probably did not know that either!)
Fortunately, the average person in the average location has a pretty long life ahead of them. Unfortunately, the laws of averages do not work in your favour. I'm not saying the world is out to get you, I don't believe that for a second, and neither should you. What I am saying, is that the world is infact out you get you and you alone. So I'd watch your back, and your front, and probably your top and bottom too.
Never know what the fuck is gonna pop up at you in this day and age, anyway.
So as long as we're all on the same page now, can we just sit back and chillax a little bit? I think it's about time.
oh god I hope I look that happy when I die, shine on crazy plumber, shine on |
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| Attention women!
| 22 Jun 2005
by Rend |
STAY AT HOME. |
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| BEHOLD THE ASBESTOS CAT PHRASE, IN ALL ITS GLORY
| 06 Jun 2005
by Rend |
And that is why Fallout 2 is better than you.
Christian reviews suck more than Gigli, http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/gigli/ |
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| You really don't appreciate me very much.
| 06 Jun 2005
by Kroey |
It's become quite apparent that you probably don't know the most basic of information about my operations. While I can understand I'm only a small part of your life, I would appreciate it if you took a little time out of your day to day workings to learn a bit about me. For instance, did you know that I'm 23 and 3/8ths wide? I'm over 33 and 1/4th inches tall? Front to back I'm a scant 22 inches deep. With a heft of 180 some pounds, that gives me a rough BMI of 123.6. While I would be considered overweight by most, I feel with an energy intake of 115v, I'm in quite good shape.
With that basic information at hand, you probably already know far more about me already. I don't quite feel it's enough however. Afterall, I have seen far far more of your dirt of all varieties then anyone should in a lifetime.
I'm sure you already know I don't require a dryer vent (Though my partner in crime might!), and that I automatically adjust my water level to accommodate the amount of clothing that you put into my 2.0 cubic foot capacity tub. (Which is made of stainless steel, I might add.)
I service a variety of clothing, I can be delicate, intense, and everything inbetween. I subject myself to scalding hot water, as well as a less harmful to your delicate cotton cold water.
My dispensers will dispense bleach, detergent, and even fabric softener with a level of control that will allow your soiled garments a level of clenliness not previously seen.
Hell, my door is even double-glazed to reduce fucking surface temperature when drying.
I am a unit that was perfectly designed for optimum cleaning. I really don't ask for much. I don't complain about the drips of detergent that are running down my side because you can't properly put the cap back on the bottle. I don't even feel upset about how you sit on my dryer partner on a cold night.
I do however have to cross the line when you use my spacious inside for storage of your dead hooker parts. While you dismember them quite handily, it is still a tight fit as I must say you are fond of the larger girls. Is it too much to ask for you to simply stick to those who spend their money on crack? It may be worth a try to see if their spiritually dead eyes don't offer the same pleading last looks. Most importantly, their depleted frames would offer much less of a challenge to my spin cycle.
Just thought I'd bring it up, since I don't say anything about your soiled undergarments. You know, it's just one of those things between us appliances. |
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| Oh god what is going on here
| 04 Jun 2005
by Kroey |
I am pretty sure this is about as frequented as my mothers vagina is, so I am going to just start spewing random shit until I get told to stop.
I played a doubles (on my side) tennis game against my 59 year old homeless father last night. I had my 21 year old roommate who was on his schools varsity team as a partner. My father had consumed at least a fourty by this point.
We played two games, to 6 sets each. My partner and I lost both sets 6 sets to zip.
I believe the lesson learnt from this is NEVER FUCKING CHALLENGE A HOBO.
That means you Billy, that means you.
Until next time I get computer access, Kroey out. |
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