By Lindsay Toler
By Chad Garrison
By Brett Koshkin
By RFT Staff
By Lindsay Toler
By Riverfront Times
By Danny Wicentowski
By Pete Kotz
"Crude humor is offensive by its very nature...but an unverified report concerning three Brazilian men finds an even greater danger: it can kill you. Supposedly the [men] were in an ultra-light aircraft that crashed while the three were away from the cockpit. Why was the cockpit left unattended? So the men could moon a passing aircraft, of course!..."
"If you are defecating in your boss's desk, or setting your neighbor's car on fire you have gone too far. Any joke that breaks the law, threatens, or hurt's [sic] someone is mean-spirited, not funny."
Local Blog O’ the Week "Gregg's Revenge"
About the blogger: Gregg is 25, works in government and maintains three blogs. Gregg‘s List (greggsendorsements.blogspot.com) details his favorite products, while St. Louis Streetfighter (stlstreetfighter.blogspot.com) focuses on local and state politics.
Recent Highlight (January 20):
You have a great idea. You tell all your friends about it. They agree to pitch in for the purchase. You order it. They all fuck you.
The order? “Let‘s get a Gorilla Costume and just wear it to parties and people will be like... ‘Look it‘s that crazy Gorilla again‘...It will be awesome!”
So you have a party and it‘s the perfect time to bust out the suit. You tell your friends. They say...“It was your idea, you wear it first.” You‘re wasted...so you agree. After 15 minutes of changing and getting prepared for the ultimate armpit scratching, you hear a little Jungle Fever in the background...what an entrance.
You roar into the dance mix to the best de-evolution you can muster, Darwin‘s evil twin would have been proud. But wait...you only make it about 10 seconds. The crowd realizes what is happenning. “There‘s a Fucking Gorilla...Get Him!!!!!!!!!!”
The hits start coming, from every angle. In the gut, on the back, on the head, in the face...AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I can‘t write it. I‘m having horrible flashbacks. Post-Traumatic Stress to the Max!! It was horrible.
After about 30 seconds, but seemed like an eternity, of getting your ass kicked, you make it out of the crowd and down the halls. And there you sit, mask off, all alone with more lumps on your head than Rodney King. You can‘t let this happen to anyone else, so you take off the suit, go down to the alley, and BURN THE MOTHER FUCKER TO ASHES!
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