Ethnocentricity + Candy = Humor
You’re secretly an ethnocentric bastard. Admit it. Come on. It’s almost cathartic. Come on. Just a little. Even if you’re super liberal (Hutch), it’s ok to enjoy life.
Hell, I voted for Nader/LaDuke, and I can admit it: ethnocentric/racist jokes are funny, because stereotypes are predicated in some minor glimmer of truth.
There’s a site you may enjoy, if you like candy…
I was shocked to hear Hutch had never heard of this. It’s a website I found when I was around the tender age of 15, which I refer fondly as to my “fuckable” years*.
It’s about bad candy, and it’s mostly somewhat ignorant. Enjoy.
Seriously… look at that shit. There’s no way I’d eat that, and I love all things edible.
- I wouldn’t sleep with me now with your dick/strap-on.
Comments
It’s too late for me to edit the post, but that retarded unordered list bullet should be an asterisk, the footnote to the one above it. Also, here’s a clip of the type of thing contained therein… I figure I should have offered this as a reason to go in the first place.
Light and Dark. Good and Evil. Love and Hate. Happiness and… Cajetas. Cajetas. A duality in and of itself. On the one hand, a seemingly delicious caramel treat, packaged in a quaint little cup displaying a smiling happy bear face. But beneath its grinning visage lurks a disturbingly thick, viscous, grainy substance that manages to be sweet while leaving behind a distinct salty, brine-ish aftertaste. Cajetas, I curse your name.
circus peanuts man. we used to drive around in empty parking lots hurling them at each other.
We did that once at a 7-Eleven back home… but we didn’t drive.
And it was marshmallows that we had purchased there.
Basically we stood at opposite ends of the lot and tried to throw marshmallows into each others’ mouths at great distances.
In college the bad candy we used to whip at each other/people in general were any those larger holiday theme/shape ones that are made from the same hard, sugary concoction that constitutes candy corn. I think one year we found a stash of these things called “Scary Cats” that were large, made out of that material, and very, very hard at some discount store and bought up a full case of them to have on hand in our apartment for the soul purpose of throwing/attacking/defending. I was both the recipient of and dispenser of many an ugly, ugly welt at the hands of that evil candy.
I hadn’t commented on this before, but I summed up my opinion in the hot dog thread and it deserves mentioning again here: Few things give me greater joy than internet reviews of strange food.
Kevin V.: I enjoy you more with every anecdote.
Kevin L.: Look at him go!
Hahaha…thanks, Sammy. One day when I get around to it I’ll post my anecdote about getting arrested for returning stolen Christmas ornaments. That’s always a winner.