Archive for the ‘Pictures’ Category
The comments are still down, the sidebar is a mess, but Fenris and The Mayor are now able to post. Better than nothing, The Mayor supposes.
Without enabled comments, think of Mitchieville as the ultimate in quiet time. Now there is no pressure to leave a comment. What’s that? You never commented in the first place? Wow, aint that something.
The picture above represents what the internet God’s have done to Mitchieville’s face. A perfect analogy, and a pretty amazing post, if The Mayor does say so himself.
Ya ya, no comment.
As consumers, we are all use to putting up with rampant false advertising. From that perfectly built hamburger you see in the commercial on TV that turns out to look like something your dog just puked up, to the high-tech two-way radios we saw in comic books as kids that turned out to be two Libby’s cans attached by a string. But this, booze and soda, well, not even your lying eyes could possibly have a problem with that.
It’s even smarter than attaching a Lindt chocolate bar to a pack of Maxi-Pads, or hooking up a bottle of Tums to a bag of pork rinds. It’s even smarter than giving away a stomach pump for every subscription to the Oprah Winfrey Network.
In order to impress the ladies, Datta Phuge of Pimpri-Chinchwad (or Chad, as he is known to his drinking buddies), ordered a custom-made $23,000 gold shirt:
He’s quoted as saying, “I know I am not the best looking man in the world but surely no woman could fail to be dazzled by this shirt?” It took 15 goldsmiths two weeks to make the shirt which cost him nearly $23,000.
Chad has a point – there aint a dame alive that could resist a golden shirt.
Women also like chocolate, and that’s why The Mayor has commissioned 25 chocolatiers to craft him a $70,000 pair of nougat, chocolate and caramel sweat pants. Want to see what’s under the sweat pants, ladies? Then prepare to eat yourself sick. Ya, baby. Is that a chocolate covered butter crunch toffee bar in The Mayor’s pocket, or is he just happy to see you?
The Mayor calls his chocolate sweat pants the “Hershey Highway Pants” because Hershey’s has the word Her and She in it, and after you taste The Mayor’s pants you’ll want to fondle his roasted almonds all the way down the highway.
Man, The Mayor now wishes he ended this post after the *or is he just happy to see you?” line.
Oh well, can’t take it back now. Google spider me, you bad bastards!