yo sup i'm a shitty coward who loves huddling within the blankie of internet anonymity. i sorta lean slightly towards the "anti-radical/militant beliefs" side so yeah. please enjoy yourselves-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(psst look at the tags on my reblogs for the full optimal shue donham experience)---------
ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ HAIL SATAN ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ
at the comedy gala tonight this guy came on and did like 2 minutes of standup and then suddenly this crazy music started playing and he got these two loaves of bread out of a basket and wore them as shoes and then started throwing bread into the audience, and THEN he got two ping pong bats out and got the audience to throw the bread back while he smashed them with his ping pong bats wearing his bread shoes. it was truly an experience that i don’t think will ever happen to me again
While trailers for the Michael Bay produced TMNT film look promising, all is not well. A source close to the production claims a sequence in the film where April sees Donatello’s ‘balls’ is not likely to be cut. The source described the scene below.
"April is hanging out in the Turtles underground home/lair . Donatello, who is portrayed as the most human like sort of "sexy" of the four is taking a shower. Not realizing he jumps out of the shower - April gasps and does a double take and says something along the lines of "you have those?" . Donatello says something along the lines of "whoa my shell is cold today" before grabbing his boa staff and covering up. It’s a play on the scene from the Sex and the City movie where Samantha catches a man exposing himself after a rooftop shower. April later mentions it in passing to Splinter who says "they are anatomically correct…" or something similar. "
It sounds like a cheap laugh but not totally out of character. Some of the other news of this films potty humor mentions Splinter talking about how hard it is to goto the bathroom in his suit and a pizza party that jokes about “4/20” .
"You can’t just ride a bear," she said. "It’s not built for transportation."
I looked at her cowardly face. “That’s loser talk,” I said.
She was a bit offended but I didn’t care. I was going to ride that grizzly bear and I was going to do it today.
"Give me the lasso out of the bag," I ordered.
"No… please, don’t do this."
"That’s loser talk," I said as I ripped the backpack out of her hands.
The rope was thick and the lasso was heavy, but I had spent every waking hour of my life preparing for this day. A heavy rope wasn’t going to stop me.
"What if it bites you?" she protested.
But I wouldn’t listen. This was my destiny; this was my fate. I slowly approached the grizzly, rope in hand, my fingers ready to strike.
I knew it could sense I was coming. It turned, sniffed the air, and rose up on its hind legs. He was towering, about a foot taller than me, and had thick brown fur shielding him from the cold. I only had my $240 North Face jacket.
"Let’s go. You and me. It’s game time, you dumb bear," I taunted.
He slowly turned to face me. Our eyes met, and he had a twinkle in his eye that looked like a diamond. It was kind of cute for a bear.
I readied my lasso. The time was right. The wind was settled and the air was clear. It was now or never.
But I couldn’t do it. It was something about the way he tilted his head and stared at me—a sort of innocence and fragility that I had scarcely seen before. I just couldn’t bring myself to tame such a wild beast.
"I can’t do it…. I can’t fight you, bear," I shouted in tears.
"That’s loser talk," said the bear.