on the kia commercial are those real hamsters
Oh. My. God. The above was yet another search term that some low-intelligence nimrod out there in the world wide web typed in their Google search bar that landed them at my blog. Are you serious? Are those real hamsters? Yes, Cesar Milan joined the marketing directors over there at the Kia dealership, slapped Raybans and basketball jerseys on a few human-sized hamsters, trained them to break dance, and taught them to drive a stick-shift.
Go kill yourself. Waste no more time.
I’m tired of 5 Gum commercials trying to pretend that chewing their gum is like experiencing an acid trip. I am extremely doubtful that putting a piece of mint flavored chewing gum is going to make me see dragons appear in the night sky that spontaneously combust into IMAX screen sized butterflies. The last time I found myself laying naked on my back feeling like I was being covered in magnetic metal balls, it was Lalapalooza, and I was doing shrooms in the forest. The next closest non-illicit-drug related experience you can have to that is food poisoning at El Rancho Grande. Even then, you’re stretching it. 5 Gum is not equal to LSD.
The other night I watched the UFC fight between Rampage Jackson and Matt Hamill. This was really the first time I had ever really paid attention to one of these fights. I just don’t understand that people do this for sport. I mean, these guys just go out there and start beating the shit out of each other. It just seems so impolite. It’s like, what if you have nothing to be pissed at the other person for? You can’t just go into the ring and feel right about breaking the other person’s jaw and bruising their kidneys for sport, can you? I don’t get it.
I don’t understand how people eat super spicy foods and enjoy it. I have a hard time believing that people that do this genuinely “like” it. There’s almost nothing you can do to change my mind. People who eat habanero peppers and XXX devil’s hot wings are sadists. Sadists who crave attention. How can you even taste what you’re eating when your tongue is going up in flames? I am not interested in eating foods that make me feel like I took a blow torch to my esophagus, make me sweat like I’m running the mile inside a Hefty bag, and bring tears gushing forth through my eyes. I don’t like to have a fire extinguisher and 14 gallons of whole milk nearby when I sit down to enjoy a nice meal. That’s not eating. That’s suicide. Dragons were meant to breathe fire. Not human beings.
Well, I need to go digest the 11 pounds of macaroni and cheese I just consumed. Thanks for stopping by,