Back when I was working at the Washington Times, I’d log onto Ace of Spades and say to myself, “That’s what I want to do.”
Because Ace and his merry band of Morons had fun.
Anyway, four years into this thing, I’m still trying to have as much fun as Ace. Blogging doesn’t have to be — and should not be — a grim, remorseless all-or-nothing political battle. There are other things in the world besides politics, like girls.
Cute girls.
Cute girls with really nice boobies. And some dude named “Ryan” who deserves to be beaten to death with a ball peen hammer.
Having that girl was bad enough, Ryan. The cake? Too much.
Die, Ryan. We all hate you. For the cake.
Mmmmmmmmm…….cake!
Marie Antoinette…
…
What I meant to say before I was interrputed….
Unfortunately, I’m getting to the age where I’m just as excited by the cake as the lady holding it.
How to have fun like Ace: blog format. Simple, fast. Allow cussing. Lots of cussing. Oh, and a fridge full of pudding, too, for those nights when something really great happens.
And discus comments makes sock puppetry harder which is also half the fun at Ace’s.
For all we know that is Ryan’s sister.
On the other hand, it’s a lot easier to have boot parties for trolls.
Exactly. And the cake could be a hat box she decorated as a joke that he spends so much time in Mom’s basement playing Diablo that he wouldn’t cut it anyway.
The way Stacy and Ace love jumping to wild and unsubstantiated conclusions on the flimsiest of evidence, the odds are at least 50-50 in favor of Sis, fake cake.
So these dumbasses kill the poor dufus who only eats Cheetos and McNuggets and plays video games, and will have no chance at all with the horrified sister, and there was never any darned cake to begin with.
I think you underestimate the effects of cheap, mass-produced vodka on the whole experience.
When that’s your first thought on seeing that picture, you’re officially ‘Old’.
Like everything in life, it’s a trade-off.
[…] The Other McCain: ‘It Was the Cake That Got You Dead’ […]
With Intense Debate you can have both.
Hey, that Look wasn’t meant for the camera audience, Bob! Anyone, ‘cept Ryan, Going There (IYKWIMAITTYD) will get their hand cut off.
If they’re lucky.
So it’s not a matter of being ‘Old’, it’s a matter of being Smart.
You must be a consultant in the Intelligence community. Or at least to the GOP.
Everclear is even more effective than cheap vodka. I haven’t priced either lately, so I can’t say anything about the relative costs.
Alternate scenario:
Ryan is indeed the poor lady’s husband or boy friend, and she is devastated by Ryan’s devotion to Diablo and the resulting lost attention to her.
The cake and come-hither look are an attempt to rekindle the flames of passion. Which, if Ryan ignores, demands summary execution by blunt force trauma.
For she is saying, “You can have your cake, and eat it, too!”
Some states still ban it. Which is a shame, because you can use it to make your own tangerine liquor. Which is great stuff.
Cake? What cake?
And so I asked myself…why would you beat somebody’s head in with something called a ball-peen hammer? I mean, as opposed to some other body parts?
“Don’t think of it as work. The whole point is just to enjoy yourself…”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNm5RZoL2Ro