Email Forwards
What do you want from me? It’s a bear date. They go out to eat at the finest deer that got hit by a car, then they go off into the woods and do it Yogi-style. I bet a little while later the guy said he forgot a meeting that he had at his bear office early the next morning on the other side of the…woods.
Warning: Bear Date is rated R and contains bear violence and bear…strong sexual content. Parental discretion is advised. For bears.
The rest of the romance after the jump!
I am scared of anyone who is this crazy. Either they spent a shit boat of time doing this or paid someone else to. Both options are just frightening. This is actually worse than dressing dogs in costumes. Wow.
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This must be the 47th time I’ve referenced this episode of Friends. “What’s Monica’s biggest pet peeve?” “ANIMALS DRESSED AS HUMANS!” Not that most of these are but they are dressed and that’s creepy enough for me.
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I know I ask for a lot, but seriously I need a yacht that has a matching car that drives onto the yacht and then the yacht sails away. With me on it. And probably I would have some gold on it. Bars, doubloons, rope, all the coolest forms that gold comes in. I haven’t really planned past that, though. Maybe I’ll race other billionaires around the Pacific or plan elaborate heists.
Or maybe I’ll sell the boat and keep the car! Then the fool that has the boat can drive their Nissan Stanza onto the Yacht and feel not as cool as me. Then again, if I look closely at that car it sort of looks like it doesn’t have doors. Hmm. Maybe I should just keep the doubloons. But that’s my decision. Not yours. You just make with the buying. It’s important to me, and that means it’s important to you.
Next I’ll find a car that a boat can sail into. You can have that. Even trade.
I’ve got to hand it to these terrifying email forwards. They certainly do give me way better ideas for crimes than I come up with. Look at number nine. I mean, derh. Use a tape of a crying baby! I never thought of that. I had been using either a tape of a really big dog barking, a train or Godzilla and it almost never worked. But now since I know that nobody reads these stupid emails, I’ll be able to try all of their handy tricks. Step one: find a victim with no elbows or if nobody like that is available, someone wearing elbow pads.
I joke around, but seriously, if you don’t do everything the email after the jump tells you you WILL get murdered.
The pic to the left is more along the lines of what I am likely to make, if I tried. Which I won’t as I don’t like baking and I don’t really like cake. So, I am completely fine with my lack of baking prowess and not at all intimidated by the amazing examples I found. I bet they taste like shit, though. They are covered in that fondant stuff that tastes like ass and feels like eating a pair of those nasty plastic Crocs. They are pretty, though. Hey, I just realized they are the cake equivalent of me: pretty on the outside, nasty empty calories on the inside. Wait. Just oooh and ahh and wonder, “How did they do that?” Never mind me.
