It's a start up.
Wooden start!
It was the most ember assing thing that has ever happened to me
He said rock
Like a match made in heaven.
There is this ding to tell me my keys are in the ignition still. I shut the door and the ding stops. But I turn on the car and it starts dinging again for my seatbelt notice.
Man, if it's not one ding it's another.
A guy was cutting with an acetylene torch when suddenly there is a break in the line. The acetelyne starts shooting up his arm and a stray spark ignites it. His arm bursts into flame. He starts running around the shop waving his arm around while it's on fire until someone hits him with the fire extinguisher.
After the fire is out and the EMT's arrive, the police are there taking statements from the witnesses. When the officer finishes this, he pulls out his handcuffs, goes over to the burned guy on the ground, pushes the EMT out of the way, and arrests the burned guy.
When he brings the guy to the station, the chief asks him why he arrested this guy when he clearly needs medical attention. The officer responded by saying "He was waving a firearm in public"
Sparks interest and ignites conversation. Tho it isn't heated discussion, its still a hot topic.
Waiter: Did we decide? Me: Yea I'd like the Sirloin. Medium rare. Dad: And I'd like the remix to ignition. Hot & fresh out the kitchen.
So in my calculus class last year in math, there were these two Chinese twins. Ving, and Ling. Ving was always super cool with me. In exchange for answers (he was super smart) I would hang out with him and be his friend and stuff. After I cheated off of him and studied with him though, I did get to be his friend and we got very close.
His sister, Ling, was always uptight about school and she made sure to study, she got stressed about a B, etc. One day I was hanging out with Ving, and we started talking about names. He went off on this huge rant about how he hated his, and how he wanted to change it to something more Asian-American, like Lee. I told him that the Courthouse downtown had a form that you could fill to legally change it. He told me: "I always give you answers. If you could just drive me down to the courthouse this one time, I will never forget you. I just hate this god-forsaken Chinese name and I want to get rid of it forever."
He seemed pretty adamant about it, so I decided the best decision would be to take him. We walked out to my car, and right as I put the keys in the ignition Ling came running and tapped on the car door like a madman. I rolled it down and she started freaking out about how Ving's name had been passed down through generations and generations, but Ving didn't care. He just wanted to go down to the Courthouse and get it over with.
Ling figured that coming with would be the best idea, so if anything else came up that she would be needed for, she would be there for Ving. Honestly, I felt stuck in the middle of a family feud, so I just took her along. When we got to the Courthouse, Ving confidently walked up to the front desk and asked the receptionist if he could change his name. She gave him a little packet of paper and told him to sit down. Ling and I waited patiently while Ving filled out his info. I was watching him fill it out and I noticed he really did want to change his name to Lee.
Before he finished, though, he started tearing up. He told me he couldn't change his name. He asked the lady at the front that he couldn't do it, and she told him he would need twenty dollars to cancel the request. Ling was so relieved and happy that he changed his mind, she dug through her purse, found the money, and started to hand it to the receptionist.
It was at this moment that the most stereotypical Asian man burst through the doors. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a visor, American flag shorts, flip flops, everything. This
... keep reading on reddit ➡So I happen to be grocery shopping along with my dad in a Target store. Not much to pick up but two of the items we needed were thyme and milk. They happen to be within a few feet of each other in the same cooled location. We both see the thyme first, but I am the one who happens to grab it. I reach for the first one in a long line of cases of thyme and something must have happened where it was too tightly loaded in the spring rack so that when I grabbed the one, the spring shot and about five more flung out, some landing on the floor, some breaking open on the shelves. I see the mess made and, admittedly selfishly, said "Not my problem" and walked over the get the milk (2% organic for context). I grab the milk and walk back over to see my dad picking up the mess. I walk closer. I look at him, he looks at me and he ignites the funny bomb that was rummaging through his brain for the last 20 second waiting for me to arrive:
"Well, now you know how thyme flies."
