Hopefully he’s not frying bacon like that.Quoting Irish (view post)
Hopefully he’s not frying bacon like that.
“What we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, er... an eating machine. It's really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks and that's all.”
Are you okay?
"All right, that's too hot. Anything we can do about that heat?"
"Rick...it's a flamethrower."
Slicing jalapeños would be a bad one, too.
*knows from experience*
"All right, that's too hot. Anything we can do about that heat?"
"Rick...it's a flamethrower."
Embrace the porg, Duke!
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And everybody wants to be special here
They call your name out loud and clear
Here comes a regular
Call out your name
Here comes a regular
Am I the only one here today?
Heh, no no, nothing like that. I just felt bad for being a dick to D&MU and Trans.
![[ETM]'s Avatar](image.php?s=b397ed0b507889de5fc627ac96220991&u=101&dateline=1465337646 "[ETM]'s Avatar")
We had a fundamental change at work yesterday. Basically everything changes, teams were shuffled around and I'm waiting for a meeting with the Boss right now. My girlfriend, who is in the same studio, as an animator, has just returned and apparently she's not doing animations anymore. This is gonna be awkward and stressful.
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Reorgs are the WORST.
So we're all gonna pretend that Meg didn't say that thing about cutting peppers in the nude?
I remember telling him to dunk his junk in buttermilk.
#truestory
#memberberries
“What we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, er... an eating machine. It's really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks and that's all.”
I matched with a girl on OKCupid, then thought, huh, face looks familiar, reverse image searched, and yep, she's the hiring manager I've been in contact with for a post-production company.
I don't know how to thread this needle, but I want to both get a job at her company and kiss her face.
I love those odds.
It’s a much more hilarious (and embarrassing) story than you could ever imagine.
"All right, that's too hot. Anything we can do about that heat?"
"Rick...it's a flamethrower."
"You must spread some Reputation around before giving it to Dukefrukem again."
Did you tell it here before? How did I not know about this?
Counterpoint: Don't shit where you eat.
I remember a Facebook post requesting assistance, which is when I recommended the dunking of the junk in the buttermilk.
“What we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, er... an eating machine. It's really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks and that's all.”
I don't know, I think this could all turn out really, really well.
Okay, so...
I used I live in NYC with Jen before we decided to move here. Back in 2010 when The Walking Dead first started airing, it was a weekly event with her family - we all stopped what we were doing to watch.
Part of that Sunday night ritual involved making jalapeño poppers from scratch. Early in the day we would go buy a few dozen peppers, then spend the afternoon doing the prep work. It’s quite an ordeal (especially when you’re also pounding back brewskies the whole time).
The first time that I was elected to cut, core and clean the peppers I did it without gloves, not knowing any better.
I suddenly had the urge to pee. So I washed my hands with dish soap thinking that, since it’s a degreaser, it would take the oils off.
It didn’t.
After I sat back down at the table to keep cutting, the burning started. My junk quickly started to feel like it was being rubbed with a piece of on fire sandpaper.
Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and posted here on MC asking for urgent help, to which Scar replied with his buttermilk suggestion. We didn’t have buttermilk, so I googled and found that regular milk should do the trick.
I grabbed the gallon out of the fridge, bolted to the bathroom and ripped my pants off, stood in the tub and started pouring.
But in my haste I had forgotten to close the door.
In walks Jen’s mom. I’m standing there with my no-no’s thrust out in the air, pouring milk all over them and moaning with relief.
I wore gloves the next time. And locked the bathroom door.
I also bought Jen’s mom some Chinese food to keep her quiet.
"All right, that's too hot. Anything we can do about that heat?"
"Rick...it's a flamethrower."
Best story ever.
There’s a reason I treat habaneros like I’m doing surgery.
“What we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, er... an eating machine. It's really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks and that's all.”
Delicious surgery?
"All right, that's too hot. Anything we can do about that heat?"
"Rick...it's a flamethrower."
Now that is a story.
“What we are dealing with here is a perfect engine, er... an eating machine. It's really a miracle of evolution. All this machine does is swim and eat and make little sharks and that's all.”
Ho.
Ly.
Shit.
I remember making puerco pibil from Once Upon A Time In Mexico, and the habanero pepper being in between the fingernails. I liked it until it became annoying.
Yeah, first time I made Puerco Pibil I forgot to wear latex gloves. Like a moron I rubbed my eyes. Never again.
Losing is like fertilizer: it stinks for a while, then you get used to it. (Tony, Hibbing)
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