How does a man like me party on a night like New Year’s Eve? How else? With the Pizzaper Tizzelephone:
I love that naked girl / Darth helmet. It’s like the old woman and the maiden.
Of those, Fire definitely gets the Time-To-Cash-In-On-the-Iranian-Holocaust-Cartoon-Contest Award. (For the record, the Matt who provided the “Holocaust” sentence is himself Jewish. As are, like, five or six other people in our group, several of whose online names rhyme. Rhyme conspiratorially.)
So! Simultaneously, different folks were playing another round. WHO WILL WIN?
I really like “Beer” because the second picture goes from meaning “I’m so fucked up right now” to “You just vomited a bat. That is so fucked up.”
Oh, and I was just kidding about “who will win.” The only losers here are the ones who didn’t get laid. (HINT: ALMOST ALL OF US.)
Then our forces combined for:
Of those, I recommend “Snowman,” “Frog,” and “Liquor.” Also, “School” is the reason these robots are studying Potassium. And if you don’t know why those robots are studying anything at all, much less Potassium, then… I’m sorry, it would do neither of us any good for me to explain. Take my word, everyone’s better off.
So that was New Year’s Eve! Either you’re jealous, or you’re fondly remembering. Next post: The mid-afternoon after.