Walking into a liquor store to buy some beer isn’t designed to be a very difficult task… for a human.

Serious news topic worth reporting about? Check. Minority factor to validate North Alabama’s WAFF 48 as progressive? Check. Rickety ass brother of a rape victim ak’in a fool on live TV to completely invalidate any air of seriousness the story tried to convey? Check.

Second thing to note; your zipline will be more effective if you don’t tether it at a 75-degree angle.

I understand that sharper angles generate more velocity, but when said velocity is the rate at which your own self nutflops from 25-feet onto the pinestraw, you will surely benefit from lower speeds and thus, shallower angles.

Props for keeping that hat on for as long as you did though, Lance, it’s all about aerodynamics.

I can’t wait to get my hands on some of those really healthy pesticides she keeps talking about. I’d give them to my slaves and have them spray my carrot trees…

We can make things, make things, cars. The machine, can make it for us.

But what are you supposed to do when you’ve had too much to drink and need to use the restroom while stranded on the middle of the course?

Take a leak in the bushes? Gasp. How embarrassing!

With the Uro Club your troubles are finally over. While you’re standing on the green waiting for your buddies to putt, simply remove the stealthy Uro Club from your bag, secure the provided Uro Towel around your waist, unzip your pants and insert your penis into the club’s massive black shaft–now piss away!

Even while they watch you fumble for your junk, sigh, and begin to shiver, your friends will never suspect a thing!

Never be embarrassed by anything but your golf game again–buy the Uro Club today!

(fun in the golden shower squirt toy attachment sold separately)

–”Mike, can I borrow that green towel you’ve got draped over your genitals?”

–”Dammit Jim, can’t you see that I’m checking out my club?”

This is what happens when stupid people brainlesstorm.

Other people are just stupid.

Michael Otero pulled into the lot of a 7-11 convenience store (only convenient if you’re trying to gain 30 pounds by the end of the month by eating cheese injected hot dogs that have been sitting on the rotisserie since yesterday of last week) and parked his newly purchased red pickup truck with a manual transmission directly in front of the store.

He got out of the vehicle, entered the store, and began his nightly routine by purchasing the most unhealthy food available to the greater Laguna Beach community.

When he returned to his truck–he was struck with the greatest fear that any man who hates walking and doesn’t exercise can imagine–his truck was gone and his hands were full of crinkle cut cheddar cheese fries and a family sized bag of Baken-Ets brand zero-carb fried pork skins.

For 120 seconds, Otero debated whether it was worth dropping one of the delicious treats in order to free up a hand to dial 9-1-1 on his mobile phone, but he decided that the call could wait. He stood in the parking lot, sad, alone, and staring blankly at where his car had been while trying to come up with some logical explanation for his truck’s disappearance.

“It’s almost like a ghost,” Otero said scientifically.

After he devoured his fries, he dialed 9-1-1 with his greasy sausage fingers and told the operator on the other end that his car had been stolen. Laguna Beach Police responded in minutes because they had nothing better to do in the quiet beach town, and hoping to catch a glimpse of the culprit, pulled the surveillance video from the convenience store.

This is what they saw.

“I still don’t believe it,” said Otero–continuing profoundly, “This is like a car hole-in-one.”