You Should Drink Bleach If…
You should drink bleach if…
You’re using food stamps to buy your filthy, rotten-toothed kids a shopping cart full of generic soda, chips, and snack cakes, before pulling out a hundred dollar bill to purchase a carton of name brand cigarettes.
You ask a bartender “Does this establishment serve any locally-crafted organic ales?”
You, as that bartender, don’t respond with something like “Fuck you.”
You wear a ball cap with the bill to the side, go out of your way to find pants that sag, even once brag about the circumference of your rims, take rap seriously, think typing in ebonics makes you cool or tough, and/or refer to anyone or anything as “gangsta.”
You believe a single fucking thing you see on FOX News.
You are intimidated by large gatherings of angry neo-feminists.
You were able to sit through the movie Date Night without thinking, on at least 24 occasions, “I’d rather drink bleach than watch one more minute of this fucking piece of shit.”
If, at any point past the age of 18 years old, you mutter “Dude, I’ve got the munchies,” while watching Pineapple Express.”
If, as a grown man, you’ve ever said anything remotely close to “I can’t eat that. It’s too spicy.”
If you proposed to your girlfriend via placing a “Will you marry me?” type note within a small glass bottle tied with a colorful ribbon, which you then slipped into the aromatic bubble bath you prepared for her.