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zomg! I just came across this today. sweet jesus it's funny best of craigslist > los angeles > Originally Posted: Mon, 17 Jul 02:10 PDT email this posting to a friend DO NOT EAT PRINGLES FAT FREE POTATO CHIPS. THEY WILL GREASE YOUR ASS.
Date: 2006-07-17, 2:10AM PDT Don't even fucking say a word. I like potato chips, and can't eat them very much or I'll get fat. I tried out these Pringles Fat-Free chips because they were super low-cal. BBQ flavor. the fuck. 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 fucking tell you... Except in tiny print you cant read without a fucking 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 shitting 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 fuck?! 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking foul. The grease made water bead off my hand. It was tacky too, and very difficult to manage. So I grabbed the bar of saop and went to work. You fucking 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 fucking grease off my pucker. I shudder to think of what its doing INSIDE ME right now, but I will damned sure never eat that shit again. Fucking Pringle bastards. This is where the joke about "anal leakage" came from. its real. Fuck Pringles. - this is in or around ANAL LEAKAGE, ANYBODY?
- no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
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Stripes 5/18/07 Cannery Ballroom Nashville TN  Ok, guys here's our oddessy. For some reason I haven't gotten the emails from the official site in about 2 years so I was completely uninformed about this show until yesterday afternoon when I checked the little room. Needless to say I checked the usual places to look for tickets with no luck at all. With some urging though from fellow little roomers, my wife and I decided to make the drive from Huntsville after work and take our chances on getting a pair at the show. We got there a little after 7pm, found a parking spot and walked up to the club with our homemade collage sign that read "Little Roomer Needs 2 Tickets". There were about 20 or so others out front at that point in the same boat as us-at the club with no tickets. We sat down next to a pair of nice kids who had driven all the way from southern Missouri and another guy from Frankfurt who brought out his guitars, harmonica and tamboreen and began playing really respectable covers of stripes songs. Oh and there was this crazy guy holding an Auburn cup who was holding up his finger at cars passing by asking for a ticket and flashing his bare chest at people. What a riot! I think he may have done some pelvic thrusts at passers by as well! We were actually having a pretty good time sitting out there waiting. The company was really good, the music was good and it was a nice cool night (in fact, I had to go back to the car and get our blanket after an hour or so of waiting). After seeing a few douches scalping single tickets for $200 per and sitting there for about 2 hours smiling and holding our sign the crowd waiting for extra tickets had thinned out to less than 10 of us-including the kids I mentioned. We were pretty much resigned to listening to the show from out there in the parking lot when this guy came up to everyone and handed us a brand new red ICKY THUMP T-shirt. "Right On", I Thought. This must be someone from the crew (although he wasn't dressed like a crew member) taking pity on all of us who were patiently waiting. Then he asked me about our sign. He wanted to know what the little room was!! I told him about it and he asked me if that was my job. I laughed and said, "no, we work in Huntsville for a classical radio station". He said, "Oh really? that's cool." Then he said "Well, today is your lucky day. Come with me." Well, we gathered up our sign, blanket and new t-shirts, crossed our fingers and followed him up to the door where he proceeded to give us two of his four guest list tickets. I felt compelled to ask him if he wanted us to pay but he just said "Don't worry about it" and walked in with us. We shook his hand repeatedly called him our angel and then skipped into the club like two school girls. I'm 6'2" and 32 years old and yes, I was skipping like a school girl. We both grabbed a quick bathroom break, Kim my wife had been holding it for more than 2 hours and then went back into the club and found a place alongside the bar just as Jack and Meg took the stage. Just as an aside, I don't know how women can hold it so long, I definitely don't have that strength! Anyway, Meg was wearing a white with black polka dots dress and a red with white polka dots scarf and Jack had on a black shirt and red pants. They both looked great. As far as the music goes, it was fantastic. The show was just as good for us as when we got to meet Jack after the show in St Louis in '05. I don't have much to add about song names and stuff because we're so bad at that but a lot of new songs/covers were played and several from White Blood Cells. My favorite part of the evening was the Ball and Biscuit medley - it sounded like a medley to me because they played several songs back to back without breaking. It was so heavy and good. Jack really leaves me hopeful that the guitar is still a relevant and exciting instrument. I also came away with a new appreciation for Meg tonight. At a few moments during the show all the lights on the stage went off except for a strobe on Meg. This made it look like her sticks were moving in slow motion as the light caught them and it was a really simple but cool effect. Also, Jack and Meg sand a duet toward the end of the set, she was great in a very simple natural way. She even made a mistake and laughed for a moment before going back to the mic to sing more. Oh, I don't know if anyone else mentioned it but Jack took some polaroids and threw them out to the audience. I wonder if we'll see any show up here? After the show we picked up some buttons and signed up for the poster mailing list and then headed off to Shoney's for some late dinner. Wow, what a great time and thank you little room! The room really made this fantastic experience possible for us in many ways. PS We ran into a guy who had driven all the way from Pittsburgh and was planning on driving back home right after the show to work in his gas station. We saw him afterwards and thank god he had decided to stay the night in Nashville.
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Ever since JC Superstar wrapped (yours truly playing the savior of mankind btw) at the end of July I've felt out of sorts. Kimberly feels it too and it's eating us up. She's completely uninspired with her work and dreads going each day. Me, my work is somewhat more inspiring but the daily repetition has become mind numbing. Add to that the caustic atmosphere at the office and it makes for an unhappy day. My boss left at the end of August to take another position down South. Since his departure things have been better and more congenial among the staff but still not what I would call friendly.
Sometimes I think it's my fault for not playing the office politics game well enough or for not wanting to share details about my personal life with people that I find contemptuous. Hell, even if I didn't find them contemptuous I still wouldn't share anything about my personal life. I guess I'm just not willing to trust work colleagues as friends.
At any rate, I've once again begun sending out resumes. I know some people who never stop but I think it's a good idea to give a new job a while without really looking for anything else. It seems like, whenever I start looking, inevitable comparisons start to be made about the importance of one position or another or about my personal self-worth in terms of salary. That stuff generally depresses me and doesn't motivate me to give my current work my full attention-so I've consciously not been looking at anything really for the last year and a half. That changed at the end of July with a rather unpleasant altercation between me and my (former) boss. The short story is that he was convinced that I was badmouthing him all around town and he chose to retaliate by writing me up on a list of imagined infractions.
Now, as much as I would have liked to spread the word of his silliness all over the town I did not and, as a matter of principle, I never do that kind of stuff. All it would do is make me look like an idiot for saying it. So anyway, that conversation with the boss didn't go so well. Silly me, i attempted to discuss it with HR. Boy was that a mistake. For future reference, HR is squarely in the pocket of management. Any pretense made of "confidentiality" or "impartiality" is just that a pretense.
So resumes have been going out and I even have had and have a few interviews. Next week I have phone interviews for jobs in extreme Northern California and (perhaps) Upstate New York near Niagara Falls. I've been madly preparing for them. Going over my books of potential interview questions and preparing amusing and insightful anecdotes.
It's all very exciting to think that a potential change of job and locale may fix what ails Kimberly and me. But will it? It's an enormous and uncertain undertaking to pack up and move all your stuff and move, yet again, to the other end of the country. Especially without knowing if, by doing so, you are actually changing anything that matters.
Kimberly and I have talked a lot about what our goals are. They all seem to revolve around these two points- paying off our student loan and credit debt & finding professional satisfaction at our jobs. Some days one seems more important than the other but then they flip flop. Are these two goals mutually exclusive? I surely hope not.
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