|Knuckles - 2009-01-08 |
I'm gonna miss brown haired guy who's not Steve Doocy.
Rodents of Unusual Size
ps I honestly had to look his name up because I can never remember it either. The origin is everyone else has the same problem.
It's from the Colbert Report.
|Sudan no1 - 2009-01-08 |
"hey, let's talk stimulus"
I thought we were...?
|Caminante Nocturno - 2009-01-08 |
These guys laugh at Bill O'Reilly behind his back, and it drives Bill INSANE!
|Doctor Arcane - 2009-01-08 |
Oh, you meant in the Vaseline jar!
|RockBolt - 2009-01-08 |
Swing and a miss
|Billie_Joe_Buttfuck - 2009-01-08 |
|chumbucket - 2009-01-08 |
oh they are JUST TOO MUCH!
|TeenerTot - 2009-01-08 |
It's funny 'cause a conservative would NEVER take it up the butt! That'd be an abomination! Wacky!
|Xenocide - 2009-01-08 |
Non-Steve is speaking from experience here.
|sliggy - 2009-01-08 |
Ah, the morally upright conservatives. The second they are presented with a bare ass they immediately think sodomy.
|StanleyPain - 2009-01-08 |
THIS IS CRRRRRRRAZY!!! EVEN THE CREW IS GETTING ON IT TOTALLY UNSCRIPTED, LIKE!
|Richmond - 2009-01-08 |
They called Roy the sound engineer crazy for installing the whoopee swoosh. They said it was unnecessary, tasteless, a waste of resources. He had been passed over for management twice, and his steadfast insistence upon its vital function --- a frequent, frustrating roadblock at budget meetings --- was no small factor.
Late at night, when the "B" crew took over, he would remain at the board for hours, watching reruns of Benny Hill on the monitors, refining his skill and response time until he could locate the swoosh in less than a tenth of a second, blindfolded. His coworkers called him crazy. They complained of the pile of stale coffee cups and the scent of his body odor as he sweated with tension, fixating intensely on every spoken word, at every graphic displayed during a live broadcast. His wife was concerned about his health and the steadily increasing doses of Ritalin he had been ingesting to keep on top of his game. His children hardly recognized him, sublimating their sense of profound abandonment into an ironic obsession with online games, staring ever at a cold, emotionless screen with fingers hovering above a button. Daddy's children.
Let it be known by all and sundry that on that day, at that time, Roy Cooper --- graduate, veteran, sound engineer --- found sweet vindication. He was right. He was right, all along.
The doctors said the cause of Roy's death was a heart attack brought on by his sedentary lifestyle and high caffeine intake, compounded by stress and the abuse of prescription medication. But the men and women in the booth tell a different tale. Those that found his prone, sprawling form motionless in a mortal embrace with the board he so treasured say Roy knew from the start what so few of us ever truly recognize: that his life had purpose. And having given the world this one true and precious gift, this one still and flawless moment of comedic perfection, his soul met its completion and journeyed home.
The Lord bless and keep you, Whoopee Swoosh Roy. Godspeed.
|Comatose2 - 2009-01-08 |
Brian, you're fired.
|Dib - 2009-01-09 |
"Let's talk stimulus" doesn't help anything, does it?
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