Half a watermelon
But I heard they were under cutting everyone
It'll be renamed Corvid-19, otherwise known as the CROWnavirus.
They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡Some people are probably weirded out by this, but I find it quite attractive.
It's called "Ving Rhames in the Membrane"
I recently spent $46,500 on a young registered Black Angus bull. I put him out with the herd but he just ate grass and wouldn't even look at a cow. I was beginning to think I had paid more for that bull than he was worth.
Anyhow, I had the Vet come and have a look at him. He said the bull was very healthy, but possibly just a little young, so he gave me some pills to feed him once per day. The bull started to service the cows within two days, all my cows! He even broke through the fence and bred with all of my neighbor's cows! He's like a machine!
I don't know what was in the pills the Vet gave him ...but they kind of taste like peppermint.
Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.
Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.
Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.
The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.
Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.
Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.
One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.
Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.
“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.
The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.
“Yes of course” replied Trevor
... keep reading on reddit ➡It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”
“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.
Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.
Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.
“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”
“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”
Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.
After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u
... keep reading on reddit ➡I used to have a black cat named Big Guy. When I left for college, he stayed with my parents. One day I got a call from my mom and she mentioned he was missing. They hadn't seen him in a week. He was an indoor/outdoor cat and would occasionally disappear for a few days, but a whole week was unusual.
Anyway, I was bummed. I was set to visit the next week and was looking forward to seeing my cat.
I flew home and... it was weird. Now they had two cats! Both black. And Big Guy was back! But... why two cats now?
So here's the dad part. My mom started to really miss him. My dad saw this and went to the local shelters to see if anyone turned him in. He said, "After the 3rd one, I pretty much gave up."
So then my mom said, "So your father got another cat he thought looked "close enough" and tried to convince me it was Big Guy. I said, 'Have you lost it? This cat is a GIRL!'"
Then Big Guy came home.
Three brothers are trick or treating near a shady house. Suddenly, a spider appears on the first brothers arm causing him to scream in shock. This causes the second brother to run away in fear only to get hit over the head by a dead tree branch. The third brother tries to escape but trips over a coffin. Filled with fright, the three brothers decide to go back home before they are stopped by a ghost that informs them, “The items you have encountered today will kill you in exactly 20 years.” and vanishes into thin air. Understandably, the three brothers were terrified out of their wits and ran back to their house.
20 years later on Halloween, the first brother has booby trapped and spider-proofed his entire house. Unfortunately, he accidently runs into a wall causing a black widow to fall on his arm and killing him.
The second brother has prepared for many years and made sure that he was nowhere near any trees. However, he somehow miscalculated by one day and was killed when a lightning bolt struck a tree causing it to fall and crush him.
The third brother completely forgot about the ghost’s warning and was having dinner with his wife. His allergies were really acting up that night, so he decided to go to a pharmacy to purchase some allergy medicine. Suddenly, without any warning, the entire store goes dark and a giant coffin appears in front of him, opens up, and starts moving towards him. Remembering his frightful Halloween over 20 years ago, the brother starts desperately throwing everything in sight towards the coffin but to no avail. Now there is nothing else left other than a lone bottle of NyQuil. In one last brave attempt, the brother throws the bottle of NyQuil at the coffin and it miraculously vanishes.
Because NyQuil keeps the coffin’ away.
You look for the fresh prints
The lamp is then fastened by the sea, just so none of the townsfolk get into trouble. One day, an inquisitive young chap opens the lamp and the wizard starts wreaking havoc upon the town. All the scientists gather and decide to chemically dissolve the lamp. But all the chemicals they have fail to work. They try to burn it, melt it and what not but nothing works. Finally one scientist says “I know exactly what we should do. Pour excessive chemicals and try to dissolve it. I know we’ve tried it before but let’s give it another shot.” They bring in acids and other corrosives from the neighbouring cities and pour it on the lamp and it successfully dissolves and the wizard disappears. Everyone is amazed and asks the scientist “How did you know about the extra chemicals?” The bald, black scientist looks at them and says “Oh that’s easy. Moored urn problems require more darn solutions.”
Once upon a time there were three little pigs, Pork Chop, Hambone, and Bacon.
The boys lived at home with their mother. One day their mother said, “I no longer have enough food to feed you boys, you need to go out on your own and find your fortunes.”
Not wanting to upset their mother they left the house together to seek their fortunes.
Several miles into their journey Bacon, the little pig everyone liked best, said, “Let’s build our houses here! This seems like a great place to start making our fortunes.”
Pork Chop and Hambone agreed. So they all began building their houses.
Pork Chop, the laziest of the bunch, decided to build his house out of straw, which he apparently stole from a nearby field. It was not a very sturdy building material, but Pork Chop didn’t care. All he wanted to do was play all day, and he didn’t want to spend too much time building.
Hambone was willing to work a bit harder and he decided to build his house out of sticks which he procured by de-limbing every tree within a 300 meter radius of their homestead.
Hambone and Pork Chop were happy. Now all they had to do was to play and sleep the rest of the day.
Now Bacon was a hard worker. He knew that his brothers had used bad materials and shoddy construction methods and he wanted to build the best house he could. He found several tons of bricks stacked in neatly ordered pallets in the forest which he decided to use for his building material. It took him several days, but when he was done Bacon had the best house on the homestead.
The next day a wolf, Scott Howard, happened upon the pig brothers and their new homestead. He spied the straw house and smelled Pork Chop inside and began to think to himself that Pork Chop would make a mighty fine meal, so Scott went and knocked on the door.
Scott said, “Little Pig! Little Pig! Let me in!”
Pork Chop replied, “No way José! Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin!”
Scott, undeterred by the reply says, “Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your crappy straw house to the ground!”
Scott began to huff and puff. He was evidently having some sort of asthma attack, but after a few tugs from his handy dandy rescue inhaler, he was able to muster enough wind to blow Pork Chops straw house to the ground.
Pork Chop narrowly escaped Scott’s massive jaws. Scared, and now homeless, Pork Chop ran for the nearest shelter he could see. Hambone’s house.
Scott, undeterred, chased Pork Chop to his new hiding place. Scott was very pleas
... keep reading on reddit ➡As a kid I loved to get the sunday comics from the paper and read Calvin and Hobbes. I loved it so much my parents would get me the compilation books as gifts for birthdays and christmas. I always thought it was funny when Calvin would ask his dad how "x" works. One day my son when he was about 6 years old asked my why some TV shows were in black and white. Inspired by this calvin and hobbes comic where Calvin's dad explains why photos are black and white. http://picayune.uclick.com/comics/ch/1993/ch930919.gif
I decided to do the same thing to my kid. I told him that the world was black and white back then and that things didn't start to become in color for decades later. I got a good chuckle out of it, but because he was so young, I didn't realize that he actually believed it. I soon forgot that I told him the world was black and white. When he was about 11 or 12, one day I got a call from my wife and she asked me, "Did you tell your son that the world used to be black and white?" I start laughing immediately and said yes! How did you know? She said because your son is writing an essay about how the world used to be black and white for school and he asked me what year the world became color. He believed that for like 6 years!
There is this black guy who details cars in our parking lot for the surrounding businesses. My boss was coming back from lunch and noticed this gentleman needed help starting his client's car, so my boss got his cables out and gave the man a jump. When he told the office this I said "Thank you for putting an end to the stereotype that white men can't jump." Everyone gave a collective "ugh!"
Did you hear about that black hole? Nvm. It doesn't matter anyway
This is a pretty OAKay sentence, it may need some SPRUCEing up tho. Dang I need to start branching out with this stuff
A little context: I'm driving around in Yellowstone with my dad and my girlfriend. My dad went on a three week cross country ski winter camping trip when he was 17 in Yellowstone. We are currently talking about whether or not it is important to carry bear spray.
Dad: "Did I ever tell you about that time I woke up a bear on my ski trip?"
Me: "What?! No, that's crazy, what happened?"
Dad: "Well, we were skiing through an open field when we hear a rumbling from about 100 yards behind us, and we turn back and there's a huge bear, and he looks at us and starts lumbering in our direction. At the time, I was with this girl who was not a very good skier, but we were pretty sure black bears can't climb trees, so we start hustling towards the woods. So I'm pulling her along and this bear is gaining on us but we get to the closest climbable tree and the bear is still 50 yards back. Like I said, she wasn't a very good skier, or really very coordinated in general, so I help boost her up into the tree and she's up there and she's pretty safe, but this took a minute and a lot of my energy. So now the bear is only about 15 feet away, and I've still got my skis on, and, you know, back then we didn't have fancy cross country skis, we had these big metal cable bindings and leather lace up boots, so I definitely don't have time to get them off. And I'm so exhausted from dragging this girl across the field and then shoving her up into the tree that I've got almost nothing left, and the first branch is about 8 feet off the ground. But this bear is coming at me and there's nothing I can do but jump for it, so I leap and pull myself up and over the branch using everything I've got right as the bear lunges for me and bites into my ski boot. So here I am, doubled over this branch with a bear's jaws on my foot, my skis on, and not one ounce of energy left, and he's really sinking his teeth in and he's really just pulling my leg just like I'm pulling yours!"
Two astronauts stray too close to a black hole and start getting sucked in. The first one jumps to the controls and tries to save them. The other one gets his phone out and starts playing a game.
The first one looks over and is infuriated that he might die cos his colleague isn't helping so shouts
"Come and help, don't you understand the gravity of the situation?"
My XL-wearing half-black friend and I were in Trader Joe's when I started being excited about this huge pound block of chocolate.
When I asked him why he wasn't excited, he replied, "I guess I'm just not a big chocolate guy."
I laughed for about an hour at his complete genius.
> Dad: Can I get a large green tea, nothing in it? > > Cashier: You want one large green tea, black? > > Dad: No, I want it green! > > Cashier: [...]
Of course then he starts laughing his ass off, while she forces a smile and quickly tries to get away.
My coworker got back from the Essence Festival in New Orleans today and was sharing about it in a group of 4 black people and myself (pretty white). Her: Bourbon st. is so overrated, we just went back to the apartment at 1:30 when some fools started shooting. Me: What? Why'd you leave just when the party started poppin'!?
Groans and laughs were had by all...
