Dave is a national treasure
Replying to @iowahawkblog
For 40+ years I have watched in utter horror as automotive terminology has descended into utter linguistic chaos. Coupes are 'roadsters,' 4 door sedans are 'coupes,' 'phaeton' mindlessly slapped on every random thing with wheels. Where this all leads to I know know, but I increasingly pine for the sweet release that death will bring.
Eat Arby's, you disgusting sheep
California Delenda Est retweeted
never ask a eugene stoner apologist what buffer he runs in his ar-15
California Delenda Est retweeted
Apparently our firearm stipend post was controversial.
Anyway, here’s one of our new-hire welcome boxes.
How’d our merch team do?
California Delenda Est retweeted
To all you commie freaks for whom I've become such a headache...this is why I do this. This is my parents coming home to see everything they'd lost because of your stupid commie leaders.
Am I fucking up your little campaigns? Shouldn't have killed John Wick's dog.
I had a good life, raising my boys, feeding hummingbirds. You stupid communists defunded our fire department, never maintained the brush on your government property, and you gave $750K raises to the morons who drained our reservoirs during fire season.
Fuck. All. Of. You.
I will never stop until every last communist is expelled from polite society.
It’s kind of a mess. Especially the risks section, at least they point how how fucked we could be if congress changes its mind.
LEGAL ALERT: The ATF has issued an open letter with guidance regarding the NFA ruling. You can read it here: atf.gov/media/30961/download
Christ Apple, what made you decide to fuck up the iOS timer widget SO EPICALLY BADLY
It is fucking UNUSABLE now
This guy fucks
Replying to @ddofinternet
I have a friend in Australia who gives me the final scores because they are 12 hours ahead. He's made me a millionaire.
Visiting work HQ today, I really can’t look at my socials in the office. My feeds are entirely nsfw.
California Delenda Est retweeted
In Japan, the highest compliment for a mint candy is: “It’s refreshing, not too strong!”
In America, that sentence does not exist.
During my road trip across the US, I bought a tiny tin of mints at a gas station checkout.
Appearance: Crushed gravel from a construction site.
Menthol content: Enough to freeze a nuclear reactor.
The waitress wasn't there, but the cashier pushed the emergency alarm the moment I popped one in.
BANG.
It felt like someone tasered my soul.
My nostrils dilated at supersonic speed, shooting actual exhaust fumes.
My tear ducts blew open, recreating Niagara Falls directly onto my face.
My lungs got deported to Siberia on the spot.
I started running around the aisles screaming, “WHO ENGINEERED THIS BIO-WEAPON?!”
The state trooper by the coffee machine grabbed his radio:
“Dispatch, we got a civilian who just detonated a military-grade Altoid. Send SWAT and a snowplow.”
I exhaled.
My breath instantly froze the automatic door sensors, trapping everyone inside.
That day, I didn’t freshen my breath.
I was reborn as human dry ice on the floor of a Texas gas station.
























