Have you ever wondered why ...?

Or getting Ginger involved to go ass-to-other-mouth.

(Christ, did I just write that?)

 

If tin whistles are made of tin, then what do they make foghorns out of?

 

The stupendous marketing department at the Acme Corporation has allowed the company to be the leader in creative mayhem for over half a century. Good marketing even allowed the company to escape the shadow of Wile E. Coyote's product liability lawsuit.

And they have a great online catalog! (I'm quite partial to Acme's Instant Awakener. Some of our posters dooley prefer Acme's Instant Girl.)

;D ;D

 

There is something to be said for both theories, but I think it goes deeper. Do we know how they first came into contact? Was it a chance meeting? Was Wile E. hunting the Road Runner? What was said? Maybe the Road Runner said something like "You'll never catch me you fucking pussy." At that point, Wile E. has no choice but to devote his life to catching that fucking bird.

Even if the Road Runner just played it cool and didn't say any shit like that, a rivalry emerged somewhere along the line. You never give up on a rival. Never. And Wile E., always the coyote's coyote, lived by those same words. Maybe the first two meetings were flukes and the Road Runner escaped. But, by that time, it was too late. It became a disease.

Someone asked about buying a chicken farm instead. That person is a quitter. If some fucking bird ran you off a cliff more than 75,000 times, caused you to be involved in more than 15,000 explosions and was the reason you've had anvils and boulders dropped on your head for the last 15 years and you fucking LIVED, you're telling me you wouldn't spend every waking moment hunting down that mother fucker?

Every night, Wile E. went to sleep hearing that incessant fucking "Beep beep." It haunted his dreams...if he could even sleep. Could you rest if you'd been bested every god damned day of your adult life? I couldn't.

And neither could Wile E.

 

Post of the year candidate here, folks.

Bet you were a guy who owned one of those t-shirts that showed Wile E. with the Roadrunner by the throat and Wile E's got this nasty, bad-ass look on his face as he says, "Beep, beep, my ass!"

 

I can't really top Overrated's post there, but I just had a funny experience, after covering a Little League B Division tournament game that should've ended after 4 innings with the 10-run rule, but ended up going the full 6. Joy.

So, stopped at the gas mart to get 2 hard-boiled eggs and Wheat Thins for dinner. But then the urge for ice cream hit. There's an ice cream shack just outside the gas mart. I order the usual: 3 scoops of hard vanilla in a boat-load of hot fudge. The cutie pie server tells me that tonight customers can sign up to win Red Sox tickets. Cool. The woman standing next to me who just ordered frozen yogurt said, "I wasn't offered that," and the cutie pie server apologizes and gives her a slip to fill out. I fill out my slip and slide it across the counter. This woman, middlin' aged and frumpy and smoking a non-filtered fag, fills hers out, too. I look at her last name and it's Carvell.

I says to the woman, I says, "You see the coincidence in this right? Your name is Carvell and you're buying ice cream here." She says that the only reason she's here is because her husband ate the last of her Blue Bunny ice cream. Thinking I can slip an obscure reference by this woman, I say "Blue Bunny is good, sure, but it's not as good as a Brown Bunny." She looks at me and says, "My husband isn't getting his Brown Bunny tonight because he finished my Blue Bunny."

It floored me. Best moment of the week.

 

Holy fuck! That's awesome.

 

Sounds like she's going mouth-to-ass and then to bed.

 

Jesus Christ, Zeke you've been on a hell of an ATM kick lately.

 

It's a passion of mine.

 

Well I guess if you're going to have a passion, having one that involves putting it in a girl's poopshoot and then having her suck you off afterwards ain't a horrible one to have, just disgusting for her I assume.

 

You just gotta meet the right girl, dude.