Do they do crash tests on clown cars? if they do, how many dummies can they fit in it?
. . .
Has anyone ever stopped to think of just how much horseshit they have to wade through just to do some simple stuff these days? I swear to god that the ultimate heat death of the human race will not be all explodey and filled with cool lighting effects like Hollywood seems to think, but will come on the end of an inked rubber stamp.
The permission slip to burn the last tree, the law legalising personal nuclear armaments, the law that says big brother can legally return to TV for another fifty fucking seasons. I have seen the future, people! It's filled with "reality" TV and automated sandwiches!
. . .
So I just found that when I put "tired" into my phone's predictive text, it gives me the suggestion "three-way", confirming that I am the saddest man in the world, due to the fact that even my phone is telling me to get a social life. Although a friend argued that it wasn't hinting at a social life, just at a sex life. Gee, thanks.
Alternatively, the phone may be have achieved sentience, and has celebrated it by doing what all self-aware beings do: try to get laid immediately, constantly, and occasionally, vigorously.
I have also found that my phone's dictionary does not contain the word "penis". Don't ask how I found out. Now, seriously. It has the word Wikipedia in it for fecks sake. It's a medical term, look it up. Wait, you shouldn't have to, you're a DICTIONARY for crying out loud.
. . .
Blueprint for every regular facebook chat conversation ever:
words
words
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