Doing the thing.

Whoever draws blood first, loses. 

“Doritos locos taco… Colonel, what’s the procedure?”

“That’s a taco with a special shell, Snake – made not from an ordinary corn tortilla but designed to evoke the famous tortilla chip, packed with extreme flavor. Substitute the shell and prepare the rest of the taco normally.”

“Got it. Excuse me, customer. There’s both Cool Ranch and Nacho Cheese shells here. Which would you prefer?”

“Cool ranch, please.”

And it’s not just a small town. 

Now, the Scottish, being the wild party animals that they are, were having a dance that night. This dance must have looked like a lot of fun, because my relative in question decided to pay a modest fee of what would be 5 dollars in today’s world to get in. Everything was going great, until 10 minutes later, the inn decided to close for the night. My dude was NOT having it. They demanded a refund, but the innkeeper said no. 

Shenanigans promptly ensued. They wanted their 5 dollars, and by God, THEY WOULD GET IT. Unfortunately, there was a no refund policy. I don’t know what was worse, the fact that they were robbed of 5 bucks, or that they were thrown so violently off their groove. I will never know what really happened next that night that was so bad, so awful, so absolutely mortifying that it warranted exile, but one can’t help but imagine. Was it murder? Heresy? A combination of both?

In the end, the townspeople chased them off, banished them, and cursed their very name. If they, or any of their children, or their children’s children’s children decided to step foot back on that island, there would be goddamn hell to pay. 

Is and continues to be my favorite dance video. Dude’s so unexpectedly fluid.

> High score! What happened? Did i break it?

> You don’t see too many YouTube videos from 2005..

The Jellybear Incident of 6th Grade

It’s the sixth grade. Somehow, I had come across a catalogue for the store they bought all the school store crap from. You know, the smelly erasers and dumb keychains that they sell for like a buck apiece. So I somehow got this catalogue, and little old entrepreneur me was like “I should buy something from this and sell it at school for an absurdly high price to gain basically pure profit.” As sixth graders do. So I bought two huge tubs full of these keychains called Jellybears. This is what they look like.

So I bought a metric fuckton of these assholes for about 20 cents a piece. I start selling them at school for a buck fifty. Like I said, pure profit. 6th grade me was brilliant. I broke even in like eight seconds of me whippin these bad boys out at school. Saying these are were a hit is an understatement. They were like a home run triple, or some other sports metaphor. People are buying this shit at lunch time, between classes. Shit, one girl even admitted to selling the ones she bought off me around her neighborhood for like five bucks. I was happy to be the middleman, but I digress. The point is, not only did I gain entrepreneurial skills, I also made a pretty penny. However, a month into my brilliant business, I get a call down to the office.

I had never been called to the office before. I was such a goody two-shoes you wouldn’t believe. This was in a school that boasted like two fights per week. The ratio of cops and administrators to students was like 1:3. And there were 1700 people at this school. That’s a whole lot of authority figures for a whole lot of miscreants and ne’er-do-wells. And here I was, reading large pretentious books and wearing polo shirts, with a gigantic backpack and in an advanced math class. I was, and still am, a lame weeny. Just wanted to put that in perspective.

Anyway, I was called down to the office that day. Literally shaking in the huge chair they had for me, facing down the terrifying vice-principal, she pulled out a Jellybear.

It was the DIVA one, if I’m not mistaken. I was then given a good lecture about how I’m not allowed to sell things on campus without explicit permission, yadda yadda, the whole spiel. Except I felt there was something fishy about the whole thing. Maybe it was how she held the Jellybear in her hand, perhaps it was the way she confiscated the rest of them. 

After asking around with the intense gossip network of middle school, I discovered the real reason the administration confiscated the Jellybears.

They had reason to suspect I was filling them with vodka.

They had reason to suspect that I, the tiny, stupid haired, braces-clad sixth grader who played a tuba bigger than she was was the head of a sophisticated alcohol distributing cartel in which I punctured and drained the goop from cute keychains, refilled them with straight vodka with a syringe, sealed them off with no trace, and sold them around school.

I’m not sure if I’m flattered that they assumed me capable of that sort of espionage, or insulted that they thought me dumb enough to sell middle schoolers straight vodka for A BUCK FIFTY. 

6-8: Forests

9-11: Mountains

12-14: Tundras and snow covered lands

15-17: Farms and towns

18-19: Larger cities

Inspired by this photo that I laughed at for like ten minutes.

Fanfic idea that after Guzma gets back from his trip with Hala he ends up getting a job at the Pokemon school teaching kids to battle and raise Pokemon. Though he ends up being pretty damn unconventional he’s the most supportive teacher around, striving to make sure none of his kids end up in his position.

I have a lot planned and that’s literally the world’s shortest summary, chapter 1 should be up tomorrow and i’ll post a link on my blog to it.

In 2001, Kellogg’s proposed eight cereals based on CN’s current lineup. Fans could vote on their favorites, with Kellogg’s producing the winner for a limited run.