FFSaliwakeskate wrote: ↑Thu Mar 22, 2018 10:33 pm I just got fired from my job at the keyboard factory. They told me I wasn't putting in enough shifts.
A Joke you heard today
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Re: A Joke you heard today
Will It Buff Out?
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Re: A Joke you heard today
www.conjunctivitis.com - a site for sore eyes
The lightest piece of kit is the one you leave behind...
Re: A Joke you heard today
Saw this a while back. Found it a little vulgar, still very funny!
motorcycles/scooters - by owner
1993 Honda PC800
condition: excellent
engine displacement (CC): 800
fuel: gas
odometer: 19807
paint color: black
title status: clean
transmission: manual
Up for sale is a 1992, or possibly 1993 Honda Pacific Coast 800. I honestly never cared to know what year it was - this bike only gets better looking with age. What I do know is that every time I pass your girlfriend on this, she gives me the same look of arousal that can only be compared to the look my junior year homecoming date gave me after I shotgunned an unhealthy amount of Keystone Light in a Walmart parking lot.
First off, this sex machine was built to party. Don't let the smooth curves fool you, she can easily fit two cases of beer (plus ice) in the trunk. If getting fucked up in public parks before noon isn't your thing, you can "probably" fit about 14 pounds of weed in the trunk. Way more if you vacuum seal it. This is a total guess though. The trunk locks up tighter than your jealous girlfriend after noticing a text message from a female coworker you once called "cute". I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU KOURTNEY. IT'S CALLED HAVING FRIENDS AND IS TOTALLY NORMAL. What I'm trying to say is that the trunk is awesome and will make everyone jealous. You could put a baby or some groceries in it if you needed. Plus if you "accidentally" drive through a river everything will stay dry, or so I've heard.
This bike was marketed to middle aged, middle class white guys (my dad LOVES this bike), so you rarely see them on the road. If socializing with my miserable coworkers has taught me anything, it's that middle class white guys rarely do anything except work a thousand hours a week because "It's up to us to keep society together, as the millennials today are lazy pieces of shit and do nothing but cause a drain on the economy, always whining for things like basic healthcare and salaries that will allow them to one day possibly move out of an apartment and into a glorified crackhouse". Lucky for us, them working all of those hours means they don't go outside with their motorcycles to fuck up traffic on I-35 any worse than it already is with their complete lack of self-awareness, because using common courtesy on the road would be way too much of an inconvenience. With that being said, this bike only has 19K miles, which is low as shit.
I bought this bike in March 2016 with the sole purpose of riding to the white trash mecca known as Daytona Beach, FL. I made the trip in May of that year, slept on picnic tables (not by choice), and somehow managed to not get pulled over despite ignoring 100% of the posted speed limits throughout the tri-state area. Before leaving on that magical journey, which was sponsored by those gold cans of 32oz Miller High Life and gas station taquitos, nearly every consumable on the bike had been replaced at 16K miles - oil and filter, brake pads, tires, battery, air filter, coolant, etc. I simplified the fuel system, modifying a few pieces that notoriously fail and leave you stranded, forcing you to give HJ's to a trucker named Carl for a ride to the next town over (or maybe I'm just bad at negotiating). I installed an insanely bright LED headlight because the factory one is shit, and wired up a handful of pigtails to run a GPS or charger for your wife's Hitachi magic wand. She says it's for her back, but we both know it's because you're too scared to use any amount of creativity in the bedroom despite knowing she's moments away from leaving you for your best friend. I figured I would encounter Paul Blart at some point, so I put in a set of hidden switches to cut out the headlight and tail light. Use at your own discretion, as my friend who is a divorce attorney said it could "possibly be illegal". Whatever that means - I don't trust lawyers and neither should you.
You may be asking yourself, "But why would you possibly want to sell such a luxurious machine"? I've just got too many damn bikes. I tried putting it in my apartment, but this big girl doesn't climb stairs for shit, and it would just give my sketchy neighbors another reason to break in. She currently lives at my deceptively attractive old boss's house (old as in previous, not as in chronologically advanced - these details matter), and I know she can only handle so much visual excitement outside of her kitchen window every morning. Plus I've got two other bikes there and need to stay in her good graces. It's only a matter of time before I'll have to sell a kidney to pay storage fees, as occasional grass cutting isn't nearly enough.
If you buy this bike, you're basically taking over my position as the Christopher Columbus of PC800's. Whatever you decide to do, I guarantee it hasn't been done on these bikes before. Burnouts? Top speed runs? Google that shit, and you'll be met with "Why would I possibly want to go over the speed limit" and "Burnouts are unsafe". It's like being the coolest kid in the Chess Club - it takes practically zero effort. I once rode this thing through the woods of Florida, and can promise you it's never been done on these bikes before. You're essentially writing the history books with this machine. From what I can remember, this bike has been ridden inside of at least two houses, one bar, and one gas station - so you'll have to get way more creative than me. Use your imagination - I believe in you. If you're the lucky man (or woman, I'm as progressive as everyone else) who buys this from me, and you send me a picture of yourself jumping the bike at least 8" off the ground or somehow doing a wheelie (no passengers allowed), I'll personally buy you a dinner for up to $100. Or we can just go to the strip club and blow it there. I'm down for both options.
I'm asking $3K for this piece of perfection. It's got ultra-low mileage and is in surprisingly good shape for the age. There are some minor blemishes on the bike from the previous owner (that's what they all say). I'll toss in a bike cover, a manual, the shitty original headlight, a spare ICON helmet that I never wore (safety is for nerds), and whatever extra stuff I've got from the bike laying around. Do some research on these bikes - they're the epitome of over engineering. Hydraulic lifters, hydraulic clutch, shaft drive, and a double insulated engine (this thing is stealth as fuck). If it was just a little bit faster, it would seriously be the best bike ever made. It's even got hidden crash bars underneath the fairings... FROM THE FACTORY. They are basically EXPECTING you to go hard on this thing and wreck it on a baseball field or at your upcoming family reunion. The bike comes with two keys for when you get drunk and lose one, a perpetually half tank of fuel, a clear Louisiana title in my name.
Buy this bike, change your life.
*EDIT* It's come to my attention that this ad has gotten quite popular! Got a need for a mediocre automotive/motorsports writer? What about vegan living or transatlantic sailing? Well I don't know shit about the last two, but I'll gladly write for you! Shoot me a message with your contact info and my people will get with your people.
motorcycles/scooters - by owner
1993 Honda PC800
condition: excellent
engine displacement (CC): 800
fuel: gas
odometer: 19807
paint color: black
title status: clean
transmission: manual
Up for sale is a 1992, or possibly 1993 Honda Pacific Coast 800. I honestly never cared to know what year it was - this bike only gets better looking with age. What I do know is that every time I pass your girlfriend on this, she gives me the same look of arousal that can only be compared to the look my junior year homecoming date gave me after I shotgunned an unhealthy amount of Keystone Light in a Walmart parking lot.
First off, this sex machine was built to party. Don't let the smooth curves fool you, she can easily fit two cases of beer (plus ice) in the trunk. If getting fucked up in public parks before noon isn't your thing, you can "probably" fit about 14 pounds of weed in the trunk. Way more if you vacuum seal it. This is a total guess though. The trunk locks up tighter than your jealous girlfriend after noticing a text message from a female coworker you once called "cute". I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU KOURTNEY. IT'S CALLED HAVING FRIENDS AND IS TOTALLY NORMAL. What I'm trying to say is that the trunk is awesome and will make everyone jealous. You could put a baby or some groceries in it if you needed. Plus if you "accidentally" drive through a river everything will stay dry, or so I've heard.
This bike was marketed to middle aged, middle class white guys (my dad LOVES this bike), so you rarely see them on the road. If socializing with my miserable coworkers has taught me anything, it's that middle class white guys rarely do anything except work a thousand hours a week because "It's up to us to keep society together, as the millennials today are lazy pieces of shit and do nothing but cause a drain on the economy, always whining for things like basic healthcare and salaries that will allow them to one day possibly move out of an apartment and into a glorified crackhouse". Lucky for us, them working all of those hours means they don't go outside with their motorcycles to fuck up traffic on I-35 any worse than it already is with their complete lack of self-awareness, because using common courtesy on the road would be way too much of an inconvenience. With that being said, this bike only has 19K miles, which is low as shit.
I bought this bike in March 2016 with the sole purpose of riding to the white trash mecca known as Daytona Beach, FL. I made the trip in May of that year, slept on picnic tables (not by choice), and somehow managed to not get pulled over despite ignoring 100% of the posted speed limits throughout the tri-state area. Before leaving on that magical journey, which was sponsored by those gold cans of 32oz Miller High Life and gas station taquitos, nearly every consumable on the bike had been replaced at 16K miles - oil and filter, brake pads, tires, battery, air filter, coolant, etc. I simplified the fuel system, modifying a few pieces that notoriously fail and leave you stranded, forcing you to give HJ's to a trucker named Carl for a ride to the next town over (or maybe I'm just bad at negotiating). I installed an insanely bright LED headlight because the factory one is shit, and wired up a handful of pigtails to run a GPS or charger for your wife's Hitachi magic wand. She says it's for her back, but we both know it's because you're too scared to use any amount of creativity in the bedroom despite knowing she's moments away from leaving you for your best friend. I figured I would encounter Paul Blart at some point, so I put in a set of hidden switches to cut out the headlight and tail light. Use at your own discretion, as my friend who is a divorce attorney said it could "possibly be illegal". Whatever that means - I don't trust lawyers and neither should you.
You may be asking yourself, "But why would you possibly want to sell such a luxurious machine"? I've just got too many damn bikes. I tried putting it in my apartment, but this big girl doesn't climb stairs for shit, and it would just give my sketchy neighbors another reason to break in. She currently lives at my deceptively attractive old boss's house (old as in previous, not as in chronologically advanced - these details matter), and I know she can only handle so much visual excitement outside of her kitchen window every morning. Plus I've got two other bikes there and need to stay in her good graces. It's only a matter of time before I'll have to sell a kidney to pay storage fees, as occasional grass cutting isn't nearly enough.
If you buy this bike, you're basically taking over my position as the Christopher Columbus of PC800's. Whatever you decide to do, I guarantee it hasn't been done on these bikes before. Burnouts? Top speed runs? Google that shit, and you'll be met with "Why would I possibly want to go over the speed limit" and "Burnouts are unsafe". It's like being the coolest kid in the Chess Club - it takes practically zero effort. I once rode this thing through the woods of Florida, and can promise you it's never been done on these bikes before. You're essentially writing the history books with this machine. From what I can remember, this bike has been ridden inside of at least two houses, one bar, and one gas station - so you'll have to get way more creative than me. Use your imagination - I believe in you. If you're the lucky man (or woman, I'm as progressive as everyone else) who buys this from me, and you send me a picture of yourself jumping the bike at least 8" off the ground or somehow doing a wheelie (no passengers allowed), I'll personally buy you a dinner for up to $100. Or we can just go to the strip club and blow it there. I'm down for both options.
I'm asking $3K for this piece of perfection. It's got ultra-low mileage and is in surprisingly good shape for the age. There are some minor blemishes on the bike from the previous owner (that's what they all say). I'll toss in a bike cover, a manual, the shitty original headlight, a spare ICON helmet that I never wore (safety is for nerds), and whatever extra stuff I've got from the bike laying around. Do some research on these bikes - they're the epitome of over engineering. Hydraulic lifters, hydraulic clutch, shaft drive, and a double insulated engine (this thing is stealth as fuck). If it was just a little bit faster, it would seriously be the best bike ever made. It's even got hidden crash bars underneath the fairings... FROM THE FACTORY. They are basically EXPECTING you to go hard on this thing and wreck it on a baseball field or at your upcoming family reunion. The bike comes with two keys for when you get drunk and lose one, a perpetually half tank of fuel, a clear Louisiana title in my name.
Buy this bike, change your life.
*EDIT* It's come to my attention that this ad has gotten quite popular! Got a need for a mediocre automotive/motorsports writer? What about vegan living or transatlantic sailing? Well I don't know shit about the last two, but I'll gladly write for you! Shoot me a message with your contact info and my people will get with your people.
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- Location: Stourbridge
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Re: A Joke you heard today
Asked my Mum what she wanted for her birthday, she said “Anything from BodyShop.“ She wasn’t that impressed with the Fiesta front wing I got her...,
The lightest piece of kit is the one you leave behind...
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Re: A Joke you heard today
The world tongue-twister champion just got arrested. I hear they're gonna give him a really tough sentence.
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- Been thanked: 92 times
Re: A Joke you heard today
Terrorists have started targeting canned food as bombs, some explosives were diffused in a tin of aphabetti spaghetti.
If it had gone off it could have spelt disaster...
If it had gone off it could have spelt disaster...
The lightest piece of kit is the one you leave behind...
Re: A Joke you heard today
Just for you Al
Definitely not one of Tim Vines
A cowboy rides into town and decides to pull his horse up to the
local saloon to have a few drinks. The bartender sees him through the
window as the cowboy gets off his horse (that's not the joke).
The cowboy ties his horse to the hitching post in front of the bar,
walks behind the horse, lifts its tail, puckers up, and kisses the horse
where the sun don't shine. The bartender is watching this happen it total
amazement. The cowboy walks into the bar and grabs a stool at the bar.
The bartender says to the cowboy, "Hey cowboy, why did you kiss your horse
there?". The cowboy responds by saying, "I have chapped lips". The
bartender says, "I don't understand. How does kissing your horse there
help your chapped lips?". The cowboy says, "Well, at least I don't lick
them anymore!"
Definitely not one of Tim Vines
A cowboy rides into town and decides to pull his horse up to the
local saloon to have a few drinks. The bartender sees him through the
window as the cowboy gets off his horse (that's not the joke).
The cowboy ties his horse to the hitching post in front of the bar,
walks behind the horse, lifts its tail, puckers up, and kisses the horse
where the sun don't shine. The bartender is watching this happen it total
amazement. The cowboy walks into the bar and grabs a stool at the bar.
The bartender says to the cowboy, "Hey cowboy, why did you kiss your horse
there?". The cowboy responds by saying, "I have chapped lips". The
bartender says, "I don't understand. How does kissing your horse there
help your chapped lips?". The cowboy says, "Well, at least I don't lick
them anymore!"