Giant sharks

Funny clip found online from hack movie script writers...

What are most people afraid of when flying? The takeoffs? Landings? Turbulence? Power failure? Bad weather? No. GIANT FUCKING SHARKS.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skYRZ_-RXtk

Tuscan Milk

To further add to yesterday's epic post, consider the following glorious review of:

Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz

Chateau du Lait Blanc, watch out!

"One should not be intimidated by Tuscan Whole Milk. Nor should one prejudge, despite the fact that Tuscan is non-vintage and comes in such large containers. Do not be fooled: this is not a jug milk. I always find it important to taste milk using high-quality stemware -- this is milk deserving of something better than a Flintstones plastic tumbler. One should pour just a small dollop and swirl it in the glass -- note the coating and look for clots or discoloration. And the color -- it should be opaque, and very, very white. Now, immerse your nose in the glass and take a whiff. Tuscan transports you instantly to scenic hill towns in central Italy (is that Montepulciano I detect?) --- there is the loamy clay, the green grass of summer days, the towering cypress. And those gentle hints of Italian flowers -- wild orchids, sunflowers, poppies. Then, one takes in the thick liquid and lets it roll across and under the tongue -- what is that? perhaps a hint of a nutty Edam cheese? With Tuscan, you feel the love of every dairyperson involved -- from the somewhat sad and deranged farmhand shovelling steaming cowpies to the bored union milk maiden dreaming of leaving this soul crushing life behind for a job waiting tables for obnoxious American tourists in Siena. But not too fast -- sip gently, slowly, or one is in danger of not only missing the subtleties of the milk's texture and its terroir, but -- if chilled too long -- also of giving oneself a blinding ice cream headache. Nay, savor the goodness that only dairymen and dairywomen working at the apex of their craft can deliver. Tuscan is best drunk young -- no, no, don't cellar this gem -- I guarantee you'll be sorry if you do. I recommend pairing with freshly baked macadamia nut scones. Milk Expectorator gives this one a 92." - Philip Tone

Of course, this goes well with yet another review comment on yesterday's post on the Three Wolf T-Shirt...

"I accidentally spilled a glass of Tuscan Whole Milk down the front of this shirt, and my soul was torn from my body and thrown into heaven by a jealous God." - Chaon

Zubaz pants

Amazon.com is currently being flooded by a number of viral reviewers for funny items sold on the site. The 4chan /b/tards have been crapflooding the site with pretty humorous reviews. A few snippets:

Zubaz Pants

"I call these my Cock Fight pants. I know what you are thinking, why Cock Fight? Why not Zebra Fight pants? Here, let me explain:

The first time I wore these pants, I tried to capture the spirit of the animal print from which they came: the Zebracorn (50% Zebra / 50% Unicorn = 100% real. See Google). I would wear these pants with nothing more than Crocs on my feet and hair on my chest, and prance around the block like the mighty, legendary Zebracorn. It was kind of like skipping, using an intermittent hop, kind of a gallop. Yes, definitely a gallop. And I held my hands in front of my chest like I wasn't exactly sure what to do with them. People would ask if I was gay as I pranced around. I'd smile, wave, and wish them a happy day too. Then one day my friend explained to me that those people used a redefined meaning of that word. I didn't know they did that! (Change word meanings, I mean.)" - J.C. Murphy

Three Wolf Moon T-Shirt

"I purchased this shirt with the intention of giving it to my father. I knew he would feel it was fabulous and wear it with proud distinction. What I did not anticipate was the compelling gaze of Wolf #3. Upon opening the package I was instantly enraptured by its eyes and knew without a moment's doubt that my father could not have this t-shirt. It had to be mine.

Fate mocked me, however, for the gift arrived on Father's Day and I had no choice but to give it to him.

The anguish I was forced to endure was beyond the most savage of torments Hell could bestow upon the lowliest of mortals. What choice was I given? I murdered my father in a fit of jealous rage.

I sometimes pay a prostitute to wear the t-shirt and visit me in prison just so I can look lovingly upon it." - Brandon Patterson

This is why you're fat

Saved for future reference and amusement...

http://thisiswhyyourefat.com/

Interesting

Here's a random, interesting site to check out when you have some time to kill. It's a web site that gives short anecdotes to honest questions. It wasn't harsh enough where it seemed like I was a voyeur, peaking in on a confessional. It wasn't so tame where I thought I was reading a one-page sectional in a Reader's Digest.

http://commonties.com