[cobra de capell]

When Chicago resident Nathan Radlich's house was burgled recently, thieves ignored his wide screen plasma TV, his VCR, and even left his Rolex watch. What they did take, however, was 'a generic white cardboard box filled with a grayish-white powder.' (That, at least, is the way the police report described it.) A spokesman for the Chicago police said, 'It looked similar to high grade cocaine.They probably thought they'd hit the big time.'

Later, Nathan stood in front of the numerous TV cameras and pleaded with the burglars: 'Please return the cremated remains of my sister,Gertrude. She died three years ago.'

The next morning, the bullet-riddled corpse of a local drug dealer known as Hoochie Pevens was found on Nathan's doorstep. The cardboard box was there too; about half of Gertrude's ashes remained. Scotch-taped to the box was this note which said: 'Hoochie sold us the bogus blow, so we wasted Hoochie. Sorry we snorted your sister. No hard feelings. Have a nice day.
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tried out these Pringles Fat-Free chips because they were super low-cal. BBQ flavor. the ****.

The can said they had 70 calories per serving, which meant the whole can had 490 calories inside total. I could munch through a can in a day with my lunch, dinner, etc. So I got several cans, and began enjoying one a day for the past four days. But what they dont ****ing tell you...

Except in tiny print you cant read without a ****ing electron microscope

...is that the primary ingredient is something called "olean" which I have since learned is Latin for "Unwashable & Indestructible Ass Grease."

Oh Yeah. I'm not even kidding.

So today, while I'm standing in the living room debating whether or not Laundry or Dishes will get done first, I get the urge to fart. I live alone, so sweet. I let the honk loose and its wrong. Something just sounded wrong. I know my own wind, and I have never farted a sound that sounded like a fart wrapped in a pillow.

Oh yes, something was very wrong. I had just shat myself. But this evil olean makes sh*tting yourself sound almost like a regular fart, and had I not been particularly attentive, it could easily have gone unnoticed, I'm telling you. THAT's how utterly covert and evil this olean stuff is. What the ****?! What if I'd gone out to hang with friends or gone for a drive, what then?

So I walk carefully to the bathroom and disrobe. before I even sit on the toilet, I wad paper and carefully wipe from the front. Sure enough, it was light brown, and had the texture of soft spackle. You ****ing Pringle bastards.

I sat down and pushed a bit, and lo, out came a jet that I didnt even feel an urge for one minute earlier. It piled in the bowl like brown marshmallow fluff.

The problem rose when I tried to wipe. I went through a whole ****ing roll of TP and could not get it all off me. So.

I jumped in the shower. Yep, its gross, but it had to be done. There I stood, water pouring down, cheeks spread, and using my own hand to make certain I'm clean.

That was when I discovered that after using my hand to wipe myself (before I soaped the area) my hand came back covered in some sort of transparent grease. It was so ****ing foul. The grease made water bead off my hand. It was tacky too, and very difficult to manage.

So I grabbed the bar of soap and went to work.

You ****ing Pringle bastards.

The bar of soap came away coated in grease as well, and would no longer wash. I had to turn the water to hot and massage the soap for five minutes to get it to the point where I could use it again. It took me an hour to get the ****ing grease off my pucker. I shudder to think of what its doing INSIDE ME right now, but I will damned sure never eat that sh*t again.

****ing Pringle bastards.