Strawberry Burt’s Bees Is Literally The Worst Lip Balm Of All Time
As a user for over a decade now, I consider myself a Burt’s Bees connoisseur. I prefer Burt’s Bees over any other lip balm brand and I’ll be a Burt’s Bees user till the day I die… On one condition though. There is one product, one flavor to be exact, preventing old Burt from having a perfect lip balm lineup, and that is their god damned strawberry flavor. Where do I begin with this shit. If you’re a burtsaholic like myself, surely you’ve shared the same displeasure after using this down right awful flavor. Strawberry?!? My fucking ass. You’d be better off trying to use an actual strawberry to quench your lips thirst than this lip balm.
First of all the consistency is terrible. It’s like a mix of mashed potatoes and dried semen. So much so that you can never just apply a nice, thin, even layer to your lips because chunks break off and end up all over your face. And nothing in this life is more infuriating than trying to use melted, chunky chapstick (Yes I know, chapstick is a brand not the product name, shut up). But you get it all over your face, on your fingers, all over the actual tube, and chunks of this shit constantly get stuck in the cap. And if you’re one of those weirdos that doesn’t use lip balm then you have no idea what on earth I’m talking about. And congratulations by the way, on having chapped lips that no one wants to ever kiss because that’s disgusting.
Regardless of how terrible this stuff is, my dumb ass manages to somehow end up with a stick of strawberry a few times a year and every time I am reminded of the horror in trying to use this shit. It’s good for MAYBE three uses before morphing into its true, and downright evil, colors. And if you happen to leave satan’s lip balm in the sun for any amount of time, good luck. This won’t melt like your average lip balm or any of the other Burt’s Bees flavors, no, this shit turns into hot lava. You won’t need lip balm anymore because you won’t have any more lips left.
There has to be something weird going on here. I’ve mistakenly tried too many different samples of strawberry for this to be a coincidence. Whatever is going on though needs to stop or I’m switching to another brand. I’ll go to their rival Carmex. I’ll do it. In the lip balm world, you’re a free agent the second your last tube is finished. Or in the case of strawberry Burt’s Bees, thrown out.
It’s just so so bad. It shouldn’t be this damn bad. I mean christ, I’ll take their cucumber mint over strawberry any day and that smells like someone shoved a cucumber up their ass, ate it, and then tried to mask the smell with a breath mint.
So if we can’t figure out how to improve this horrid flavor, just stop making the shit. Burn it all. Send the rest of the inventory to North Korea. I don’t care, just do something with it that doesn’t involve my lips, please.
Steve Irwin Should Have Turned 59 Today… Fuck Stingrays
Well… Today we SHOULD be celebrating the 59th birthday of the greatest crocodile hunter of all time, Steve Irwin. But because some punk bitch ass stingray apparently had a grudge against Sir Irwin, we have to celebrate his birthday without him. And it is one of history’s greatest travesties that every government in the world doesn’t still have a team of experts dedicated to finding the piece of shit culprit. According to a quick google search, stingrays only live between 5 and 10 years, but I bet this son of bitch is still out there, swimming around and bragging to all his friends. Yeah, congratulations dude, you have a fucking spike on the end of your tail and you stabbed an innocent man with it. Real tough.
They say only the good die young, and if that’s the case, this evil motherfucker is probably immortal. He must be brought to justice, and if that means Australia using their entire army to do so then so be it. Hell I’m sure the US would lend them a few hundred thousand troops. And I bet finding this son of a bitch isn’t even that hard. If we dedicated like a million people to the search, all we’d have to do is conduct DNA testing on every stingray’s tail and we would find this mother fucker in like two months. Then we could torture him for like ten years, stab him a bazillion times with his own tail spike barb thing, then cook him up and serve him to the public, burry his remains in a cemetery far away from any other graves, and every year on Steve’s birthday the entire country of Australia could dance around this asshole’s headstone. Sounds like a pretty great way to celebrate his birthday.
But again, first we actually need to locate this lower than life sea scum. So what the fuck are you doing Australia? You can’t tell me you have better things to do right now than find Steve’s cold killer. Hell he probably wasn’t even this serial stingray killer’s first or last victim. This bitch should be at the top of every ‘most wanted’ list in every country that borders an ocean. If things don’t change before Steve’s next birthday, I think the United Nations should seriously look into charging Australia’s Prime Minister with crimes against humanity.
Well anyway, happy birthday Steve Irwin.
Get Vaccinated You Fucking Morons
“Keep your needles away from my kids!”... I will fucking stab you lady. And not with a needle.
When it comes to ranking idiots on planet Earth, number one is unanimous. Needle fearing morons have a monopoly on the top spot and it’s not even close. Just look up pictures of these fucking bozos and their signs and tell me these aren’t the dumbest, brain dead idiots you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Seriously. If you’re an anti-vaxxer you shouldn’t be allowed to have offspring. It should literally be against the law, and I’m dead serious. If you’re an anti-vaxxer and decide to make another human being with the same moronic genes as you, you should be killed and fed to animals at the local zoo because the world doesn’t need any more of you morons walking around. And as for the kid? I don’t know, lock him up in an attic or something so that dimwit never sees the light of day. They’d probably be better off up there anyway.
I wish insane asylums were still around because we could fill them up with all of you bat shit crazy dumb fucks. And listen up idiots… All your conspiracy theories… Give me one single god damn shred of proof that any of them are true. One shred of fucking proof please. Just one. Now I know, you idiots don’t deal in actual facts and statistics because that would just be crazy. Why need any proof of your theories? That’s no fun. It’s much easier just to believe that article your cunty friend posted on Facebook warning everyone not to vaccinate their kids because Karen got her kid vaccinated and now they have 3 eyes, 4 arms, and an extra asshole. So watch out everyone! Shit… Your kid could use another asshole to shit out all the bullshit you feed them.
But anyways, just get vaccinated for fuck’s sake. Either stab yourself with a needle or stab yourself with a knife because if you’re that stupid, we don’t need you on this planet. The world is crowded enough as it is. And if you really think that the vaccine is some new way for the government to track us, I have news for you fools. They already do. It’s called the fucking phone you carry around in your pocket. And they SHOULD be tracking you. They should track all you anti-vaxxers because you’re terrorists. Terrorists against common sense. Every single one of you anti-vaxxers should be required to get a tattoo on your foreheads that reads “IDIOT” so us humans with normal functioning brains can cross the street when we see you coming. We don’t want to share the same sidewalk with you let alone breathe the same air. It’s probably contaminated and smells because I’m sure you morons are against using toothpaste too. Probably created by the government to do god knows what.
And if you’re getting ready to furiously type out some idiotic comment about how wrong I am, save yourself the time. Instead, take those same fingers, shove them up your ass, and then smell them. That’s what the bullshit you’re about to spew out smells like.
“Trust in God not vaccines”... Yeah because we all know how well that’s worked throughout history. Fuck you.
Ted Cruz… Not A Good Look, Literally
I could sit here and furiously type out a 10,000 word blog about Ted’s decision to flea to Mexico amid his state’s historic winter emergency, but I’m sure you’ve read plenty of articles perfectly painting that picture, so I’ll spare you from reading another. Let’s disregard that asinine, although unsurprising decision, and instead talk about Cruz’s wardrobe decisions. They are just... well, perfectly Ted.
First of all, there is no way in hell his wife didn’t buy those jeans for him. Those are like the new, slightly more stylish dad jeans. I guess ‘Dad Jeans 2.0′ if you will. Unlike that shirt, the jeans actually fit his fat father physique pretty well. They do a good job of showing off his large lazy ass, while simultaneously hiding the tiny politician penis between his legs. So good choice, Mrs. Cruz.
Next we have the shoes. I can’t quite make out the brand, but they look like some sort of trainer. Another good choice by the wife. Gives the illusion that this fat tub of shit has actually gotten exercise that didn’t involve walking through an airport or to the fridge over the last 20 years. And the shoes also match the gut hugging shirt, so he has that going for him.
Now where this outfit falls apart is the upstairs. Let’s talk about that shirt. While it does match the shoes as I previously stated, it also matches the exact outline of that barrel he’s smuggling into Mexico. If I remember correctly, darker colors usually give a slimming affect as they draw attention away from whatever you’re trying to hide, whereas lighter colors draw attention to the area. Well folks, unfortunately for Mr. Cruz, a god damn black hole couldn’t hide his beer gut. They say everything is bigger in Texas, and in this case, they’re right. The largest Yeti cooler can hold 259 cans of beer according to their website, and this leaves me wondering how many cans of beer it took to make whatever he’s got going on under that shirt. I can only assume he spilled something (probably a beer) on whatever shirt his wife picked out and changed to this last minute because there’s no way she’d let him out of the house looking like that.
And last but CERTAINLY not least, Jesus Christ Ted, that mask. If you’re going to flea the state you get paid to serve, at the very least find a different mask to wear you fucking moron. A Texas mask?!? Really??? Buy one from the airport with a Mexican flag on it and wear that around next time. Or better yet, choke on it and put us all out of our misery. You owe your state at least that much.
Anyways, I know you’re not supposed to drink the water in Mexico, but shitting out a few dozen pounds thanks to terrible diarrhea wouldn’t be the worst thing for that dad bod.
Your Birthday Isn’t Special And Neither Are You
Last Friday was my birthday, and every year it rolls around, and every year I hate it more. I just don’t like my birthday. I don’t like the attention, and I’m 28 so getting older hasn’t been fun for years now.
This had me thinking... About the people on the other end of the spectrum. Not the normal people who celebrate their birthday for a day or maybe for a weekend, no I’m talking about the other people, the one or two weirdos in every friend group who don’t just celebrate for a day or two, no, they have to celebrate for an entire week. You know any of these clowns? I think they tend to be of the female variety but that’s just my personal experience. They come in all shapes and sizes, all hair colors, styles, walks of life, and they live in every town in the world. They’re all so different, yet all the same, because they all have one thing in common, one MAJOR, thing in common. And that’s the need for unwavering, undying, and undivided attention. These birthday bitches mope around for fifty one weeks a year, obsessed with the idea that once again, come birthday week, they can demand the world from anyone and everyone “lucky” enough to cross their path. For fifty one weeks a year, these pathetic scavengers have to scour every nook and cranny of life for every last crumb of attention they can find, but come birthday week… Those crumbs become one enormous, ego fattening, birthday cunt cake.
These fools need everything to be absolutely perfect for the entirety of their week, and God forbid a single day doesn’t go exactly as planned. You know what I’m talking about. The week consists of constant announcements and reminders that it’s their special time. There are birthday brunches, birthday lunches, birthday dinners, birthday parties, birthday trips, and birthday cake. There are birthday songs, birthday posts on Facebook, birthday posts on Instagram, birthday posts on Twitter, birthday posts on Snapchat, birthday texts, birthday calls, birthday balloons, birthday sashes, birthday presents… You get the point.
And I mean seriously, what’s up with those gold birthday balloons and the stupid sashes? Why don’t you use those to celebrate when you actually accomplish something? Because I’m sorry but living for another year isn’t an accomplishment, it just means you annoyed everyone around you for another 365 days. Congratulations.
“IT’S MY BIIIIIRRRRRRTTTTTTHHHHHDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
We know, Becky. We just don’t care.
P.S. No mean comments. It was my birthday last week.
How Do You Put This On?!?!?
Seriously, though. How do you? And how does she tie that?!? Is that like some pre-tied shirt that’s made to look like that? Or did Lo forget to pack shirts and that’s just a hotel towel? I don’t know but I need answers. Is there like some new, hip, mummy fashion trend I’m not aware of? And look at the buttons on those jeans. Those pants look like something you would find for 90% off because the machine broke midway through making them and now they don’t button up properly.
Regardless, Lo is and always will be my girl. She was the best personality on The Hills by a mile (Lauren left so she doesn’t count) and she was easily the hottest in my humble opinion. She could wear a dirty bed sheet (or a scarf/towel looking thing) and she’d still be better looking than 99.999999999% of the human race. So I don’t know what the hell that thing is or how many years of working on boats it would take to learn how to properly tie a knot like that, but she’s Lo Bosworth, so it doesn’t matter.
But guys, seriously, how do you tie that...
Which Fucking Super Bowl Are We On?
Dear NFL,
Just tell us it’s Super Bowl 55. For fucks sake. Enough with the god damn tally mark shit we learned a billion years ago in grade school. The Roman empire dissolved in 1453, so I shouldn’t have to use google to tell me what Super Bowl it is in addition to looking up when the Roman Empire was dissolved. So anyways, quit using their shitty numbering system.
Thanks,
From literally everyone who isn’t a huge nerd
Championship Winning Teams: Stop Covering Up Your Awesome Jerseys With Crappy T-Shirts
As we await the next winner of the Super Bowl, there’s something we need to talk about. Something that’s been bothering me, and maybe only me, for years now. Why in the hell do championship teams cover up their jerseys with ugly t-shirts?!? Why??? What’s the point. We know you won. We just fucking watched you win. Why do you insist on, year after year, celebrating your hard earned victory in cheap t-shirts that look like they were designed by some stupid intern at 5 pm on a Friday when everyone else is already at happy hour. Honestly. You’ve worn your jerseys all season long. You’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears into the fibers of this battle attire, only to replace them with generic shirts the second the confetti starts falling. Why??? Celebrate in the shirt that was with you from the start, not some new garment that was made three days ago by some underpaid kid in a sweatshop.
Now, I’m sure there’s pressure on the players to wear these ugly things. And who knows, maybe they even get some sort of bonus from the league. I don’t know. But regardless, they’re hideous and have no place in any championship celebration. So if the leagues absolutely insist on having players wear them, save it for the locker room celebration when everyone is shit faced and spilling beer, champaign, and God knows what other liquids on each other.
I might very well be the only one on earth who cares about this. But seriously, look at the Chiefs’ jerseys compared to those t-shirts and tell me I’m wrong.
Exactly.
On This Day In 1964: The Most Overrated Music Group Of All Time Brings Their Shitty Music To America
“Groundbreaking, influential, and unique.” These words, among many others, are commonly used to describe the Beatles when talking about their music, style, and story of how they came to be. That’s just great. Who gives a fuck.
If I was asked to describe the music this group of terrible haired hipsters put out, I’d use the same words too. Groundbreakingly bad. Influentially awful. And uniquely, just… ew. I mean come on. I don’t give a shit about their humble beginnings or how they ironically named their ‘groundreaking’ and ‘‘unique’ band after the most common fucking insect, their music sucks. Seriously. I can’t listen to more than two songs in a row without wishing someone would grant me John Lennon’s same fate. Just because their style of music was new and different doesn’t mean it was great, or even good for that matter.
And that stupid Abbey Road album cover? Big fucking deal. They claim it only took their photographer Iain Macmillon six photos to get the perfect shot. Even if this were true, who gives a fuck. Congratulations on taking a photo of four dudes using a crosswalk correctly. The only lasting legacy that photo left behind was the fact that thousands of morons block traffic every year taking similar photos. Wow. Amazing. The only photos I’d find interesting were ones taken after a speeding driver decided to photobomb their photoshoot. Show me THAT album cover.
The only other thing I'll talk about in relation to this terrible band and their horrible music, is their God awful fans. You have nothing better to do than await the arrival of four bozos with bowl cuts? And not only that, but you’re screaming and crying like a bunch of school girls in an 80’s slasher flick. The thousands of photos depicting these pathetic people painted the perfect picture of how crazy you had to be to like this band.
To end this shit hole of a blog, on this day in history, the Beatles landed in America. They were something new and something unique. But groundbreaking and influential? Ha. Not a fucking chance.
So any time you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain… from listening to their God awful music.
Horny Basement Dwellers Ruin TikTok Silhouette Challenge
While this may look like something out of the Red Light District in Amsterdam, it’s far from it, and MUCH more important. This isn’t girls putting their bodies on display in hopes of finding that special someone who’ll shell out $500 for sex with a stranger... No, this is the latest and greatest viral TikTok challenge where girls, of all shapes and sizes, put their bodies on display as part of the body positivity movement. Using a simple red light filter on TikTok, users can now show their thigh gaps, skinny arms, and tight stomachs without showing too much of the goods, ya know, like their tiny outfits do in literally every other video they post.
Now, do many of these girls make money from TikTok? Yes. Do they make money from TikTok because they just happen to post videos of themselves in bikinis so small there wouldn’t be enough material to wipe my ass with? Yes. So are they kind of like prostitutes in a way? Probably. But that’s not the point here.
The point of this blog is that, as with any half assed movement on the internet, someone will find a way to ruin it. And in the case of the TikTok red light district/body positive virtual prostitutes... ruin they did. The second the red lights were in site, hundreds of horny, basement dwelling incels got off their lonely futons to post educational tutorials on YouTube on how to remove the red light filter, therefore exposing user’s bodies in, well, all their “glory”. Creepy? Very. Intrusive? Obviously. Illegal? I don’t know but it should be. Because as stupid and questionable as the majority of TikTok “challenges” and many of their users tend to be, no one deserves to have their body exposed against their will, ESPECIALLY by some weirdo losers who have never talked to an actual woman who doesn’t require batteries.
So I don’t know if the FBI is still trying to find more idiots who stormed the capital, but they need to stop whatever they’re doing and lock up some of these mouth breathing scumbag fucks. Because if you’ve never touched an actual boob in real life, you shouldn’t be allowed to expose one on the internet.