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fuck u loading wheel

fuck u loading wheel

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Me and pizza rolls

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Shocked Patrick, why you so funny

Shocked Patrick, why you so funny

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tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

Be prepared for a disgusting turn of events.

I’m walking to the front door of an old shack of a house, carrying a tin foil tray of smelly, bubbling spinach to an old lady. Mother, who is chillin’ in the car parked on the street, told me to deliver this meal on my own. (Granted, all I had to do was walk from the car to the front door of this old shack/house, but it was further then you’d think to a 4 year-old).

As I head toward the front door of this shack/house, I walk pass an overgrown garden with the scariest fucking plastic flamingos I’ve ever seen in my life. When, I say scary, I mean shit-your-pants scary. The aged flamingos had giant ass blue pompons super-glued to their crotches and the biggest motherfucking googly eyes duct taped to their faces.

Looking back, I can only assume why blue pompons were super-glued to the flamingos’ crotches. Maybe it was to represent it being cold that winter, or maybe they were all suffering from blue balls, who knows, but the vines creeping up on the flamingos’ faded, cracked pink plastic faces with duct taped googly eyes made this garden seem like it was from a gardening emporium from hell.

Anyways, you can imagine what that sight could’ve done to an innocent child, scared the shit out of him. Yup. However, Mother didn’t notice my shock and I still hadn’t delivered the bubbling spinach meal, so my 4 year-old mind improvised by dumping part of spinach meal into the garden underneath the flamboyance of flamingos and mixing my dump in with the remaining spinach meal. I do not know why I did this. I was 4, but I did have the smarts to mix the new spinach meal with a stick so I didn’t have to touch it. (Might I add, I remember looking at the new spinach meal and it looked like the same as before, only a tad bit browner and less bubbly; the smell was even more putrid.)

Looking around, I quickly ran to the door of the shack/house and knocked. The old lady opened the door and invited me in. Looking back at the car, Mother was waving her hand encouragingly for me to go inside, which I regretfully did. The old lady walked me to her shabby little kitchen and offered me some candy. I took one and popped it into my mouth. It started to fizz. The senile bitch offered me alka seltzer and I took it. She didn’t notice my mouth fizzing or my watery burps, so she started to eat her spinach meal while making idle chit-chat. I watched her eat for a few mouthfuls in disgust, when, fortunately, Mother knocked on the door. Slobbering a hasty goodbye, I ran to the door and left with Mother to go home to watch Zoboomafoo.

I shuddered typing that, I hope you’re happy.

Tags: why