Way OT: - had to share

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As I was reading this a few of the local X-faces came to mind.  Enjoy.

New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for
Classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to
people for 25 years.  It's because you don't particularly
like them!  Besides, I already know what the captain of
the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.
New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out
a window unless you're a seagull.  People are acting
all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of
Wendy's chili.  Hey, it cost less than a dollar.  What
did you expect it to contain?  Trout?  Luckily, it was
only a finger!  If it was a whole hand, Congress would
have voted to keep it alive.

New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex
with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently
damaged.  I have a better description for these kids:
lucky bastards.
New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect
baseball cards, you're gay.  If you're a kid, the
cards are keepsakes of your idols.  If you're a grown
man, they're pictures of men.

New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone.  Here's
how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two
of them?  Okay, we're done.

New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water.
There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket,
water, but without that watery taste.  Sorry, but
flavored water is called a soft drink.  You want
flavored water?  Pour some scotch over ice and let it
melt.  That's your flavored water.
New Rule: Stop f***ing with old people.  Target is
introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square,
with a bigger label.  And the top is now the bottom.
And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it,
his ass will be in the morgue.  Congratulations,
Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.
New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order,
the bigger the asshole.  If you walk into a Starbucks
and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced
vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra
dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one
NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge asshole.
New Rule: I'm not the cashier!  By the time I look up
from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing
"Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't
want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid
who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there
eating my Almond Joy.  Paper, plastic?  I don't have
time for that.  I've just been called to do a cleanup
on Aisle Nine!

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese
characters in it doesn't make you spiritual.  It's
right above the crack of your ass.  And it translates
to "beef with broccoli."  The last time you did
anything spiritual, you were praying to God you
weren't pregnant.  You're not spiritual.  You're just high.
New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport.  It's one
of the seven deadly sins.  ESPN recently televised the
US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those
athletes at the poker table was just too damned
exciting.  What's next, competitive farting?  Oh wait.
They're already doing that.  It's called "The Howard
Stern Show."
New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&M.  If I'm
extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.
New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies
based on crappy, old television shows, then you have
to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can
see what's playing on the other screens.  Let's
remember the reason something was a television show in
the first place is the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.
New Rule: No more gift registries.  You know, it used
to be just for weddings.  Now it's for babies and new
homes and graduations from rehab.  Picking up the
stuff you want and having other people buy it for you
isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.
New Rule, and this one is long overdue: No more
bathroom attendants.  After I zip up, some guy is
offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex
with George Michael.  I can't even tell if he's
supposed to be there, or just some freak with a
fetish.  I don't want to be on your web cam, dude.  I
just want to wash my hands.

New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't
need to know in months. "27 Months."  "He's two," will
do just fine.  He's not a cheese.  And I didn't care
in the first place.

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Re: Way OT: - had to share

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I guess my mom will have to stop telling people her son is 492 months old

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