In 1989, I was a fourth grader at the Immaculate Heart of Mary school in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. For some inexplicable reason, the Catholic grade-school version of sex education had been added to the curriculum that year. Life is confusing enough when you’re 9 years old; throwing God and sex into the mix concurrently was more than my tender, dweeby little soul could process.
What is it with old men and hard beds? My grandfather has a bed in his guest bedroom that feels like sleeping on Wolverine’s adamantium skeleton. I think actual skeletons in mausoleums on stone slabs get more comfortable rest than me when I stay at my grandfather’s house.
I guess skeletons get more comfortable rest than anybody, though. Nobody chills harder than skeletons. We should bury our dead in sunglasses, they’re so chill! Maybe position their hands behind their heads, and install little shelves for them to put their feet up on. Put a baseball cap on their skull and turned it backwards. Straight kickin’ it, homie!
Cemeteries would be way less spooky if you knew all the skeletons were taking it easy. Also taking it easy—that old Japanese man laying on a giant pin point impression toy. He looks like he’s sleeping on the clearance rack at Spencer’s Gifts. He could probably get a beer koozie for his skeleton while he’s at it.
Unlike Wolverine, whose adamantium skeleton won’t let him relax and just die already. I tried to look up Spencer’s Gifts at work to see if they were even still open these days, and their website was blocked by the office firewall. Now I know how Wolverine feels! I wish a rich old Japanese man would come take me away from all this.
Anyway, looks like Wolverine might finally get some “me” time to catch up on Netflix, put cucumbers over his eyes, and bleed out all over everybody without healing. In theaters July 26th.
A lot of people think that the first person to cut a hole in a tub of popcorn to put their dick inside of it was a guy in a movie theater trying to get a handjob. Actually, it was Orville Redenbacher. He used his penis as a measuring stick. Anytime he wanted to test a new flavor of gourmet popcorn with a focus group, he’d fill a tub and put his dick inside. If all he could see afterwards was the tip, he knew it was back to the drawing board. But if the level of popcorn dropped to the base of his shaft, he knew he had a winner. In fact, this is where the phrase “Poppycock” comes from. He’d get so excited about a successful new line of popcorn, he’d try to yell, “Popcorn Cock!” but would get too worked up to say all the syllables.