It has come to the attention of NASCAR officials that not only does this vehicle feature tires that are outside official specifications, and not only fails to feature a standard regulator plate, but also can turn invisible, fly and travel at six million billion miles an hour. As a result, Team Jesus will face a two-race suspension.
The idea of tailoring pop songs to sick kids is appealing, but now I can’t get Eddy Grant’s “Epileptic Avenue” out of my head.
Rocco “The Shank” Scarlotti was the undisputed ruler of the New York underworld. Several other mob bosses who disputed his rule were rubbed out without mercy. A few more tried to say that they weren’t really disputing his rule, they were merely challenging the basis of his authority, but he bumped them off too, just to make an example of them. The same went for Vito “Hambone” Vizzini, who called into question his legitimacy; Donaldo “Torch Toes” Francesco, who presented suggestive findings about the chain of command; and even Eddie “Botz” Impierioli, who once wrote a monograph about non-conventional structures of organization in outsider subcultures. There was even one guy out in the Bronx who was caught reading a book on parliamentary procedure. They cut his nuts off.
I think people would identify more with Batman if he didn’t dress like a bat. Also, he should give everyone fresh brownies.
When I was a boy, my mom bought me a Duncan Imperial yo-yo. It was sparkly and purple, and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. I was a chunky, uncoordinated kid, but I decided that I would practice really hard and get to be the best in my school at yo-yo tricks. I thought it would be a good way to win new friends for an unpopular kid like me, and also, it would show my mom how much I appreciated the gift she’d given me.
Every day when I’d come home from school, I’d practice for six to eight hours all the different yo-yo tricks I could find: walking the dog, around the world, double or nothing, skinning the cat, avoiding the handshake of the compulsive masturbator – everything. The more I practiced, the better I got. Sure, my grades suffered, and before long, I was getting straight Fs and both my dogs died: but I was really good at doing yo-yo tricks.
Unfortunately, once I debuted them at school, I found out that no one was really interested in yo-yo tricks. I didn’t impress anyone with my juvenile enthusiasm and skill at and outdated toy, and I didn’t win a single friend. I vowed then and there that I would instead use the yo-yo to extract an awful revenge on all who had scorned me: and barely a week later, I was all over the front page of every newspaper in America as the Duncan Destroyer, who racked up a death toll in the dozens through strangulations, beatings, and explosive variations on the ‘Hank Freeman: Deluxxxe Loverman’ trick.
When my mom came to visit me in Li’l’ Shavers State Prison for the Criminally Insane, all she said was:
“This is the exact same thing that happened when I bought that sniper rifle for your father.”