Lance *with a reporter*: I saw that there was a Pokéstop outside this house. I thought it would be nice to set up a lure module and maybe attract some rare Pokémon, and maybe even meet some new friends.
Keith *with a different reporter*: My homeboy who actually told me about Tinder - what’s up Shiro! - he told to get this like Pokeymans app here so I went and got it and they got these cool little characters like um…dinosaurs and ducks and shit, y'know.
Lance: Then this guy shows up, and he starts calling the Pokémon by the wrong names, I don’t know, just on purpose to patronize me, making fun of me, I don’t know what his deal was. He called Bulbasaur -
Keith: That’s Onion Turtle.
Lance: Geodude -
Keith: Punchy Rock.
Lance: Meowth -
Keith: That cat with the long ass arms.
Lance: Ekans -
Keith: Purple shit.
Lance: He called Diglett -
Keith: That’s floor shit right there.
Lance: And Dugtrio -
Keith: That’s three floor shits.
Lance: He knew Pikachu, but everybody knows Pikachu.
Keith: Oh yeah that’s Pikachu right there.
Lance: He called Weepinbell -
Keith: Oh, that’s Almost a Pear.
Lance: Weedle -
Keith: Party Weiner.
Lance: Beedrill -
Keith: Everybody knows that’s Big-Dick-Bee!
Lance: Bees don’t even have dicks! That’s a stinger!
Day 395. I have lost my mind, I’ve sat here so long. I have a Dr appt with the surgeon on Thursday and hopefully he’s going to release me to start doing some light things, a little work, etc. If he doesn’t, I’m going to flip out and take a bunch of people out with me to a weiner party.
Or an acid party, dance dance.
I am fudging bored. I can’t do much, can’t lift over 15lbs, cant goto work, I am only allowed to drive short trips and have to do so carefully, I can’t physically handle anything major because I’m in pain still and Ive sat here so long my body is out of shape, despite the fact I am losing weight and am under 165. I was 178 of muscle and meat just over a year ago, now I’m a blob who’s watched everything Hulu and Netflix have to offer. I’ve purchased everything I can afford to buy. I’ve napped so much my sleep cycle is on acid.
the most important thing to find out about a party before you go is whether or not they’ll have those little hot dogs on the toothpicks there. if not, you shouldn’t attend. stay home and eat the ones you’ve bought for yourself. a good way to find out is by asking “will i be able to eat tiny weiners at your party?” they will immediately know what you mean. i haven’t been to a party in 12 years
In Minute sieben des Spiels Union gegen Bochum unterbrach Schiri Weiner die Partie und die Unionspieler - auch die Ersatzspieler - versammelten sich vor der Haupttribüne, auf der der an Krebs erkrankte Benny Köhler mit seiner Familie saß. Die Jungs zogen ihre Trikots aus, darunter hatten sie alle T-Shirts mit der Trikotnummer vom erkrankten Benjamin Köhler.
Schon vor dem Spiel hatten bei der Aufstellungsverkündung alle Spieler auf dem Platz denselben Nachnamen - Köhler Fußballgott.
Laurel *with a reporter*:
I saw that there was a Pokéstop outside this house. I thought it would be nice to set up a lure module and maybe attract some rare Pokémon, and maybe even meet some new friends.
Asher *with a different reporter*:
My homeboy who actually told me about Tinder - what's up Frank! - he told to get this like Pokeymans app here so I went and got it and they got these cool little characters like um...dinosaurs and ducks and shit, y'know.
Then this guy shows up, and he starts calling the Pokémon by the wrong names, I don't know, just on purpose to patronize me, making fun of me, I don't know what his deal was. He called Bulbasaur -
That's Onion Turtle.
That cat with the long ass arms
He called Diglett -
That's floor shit right there.
And Dugtrio -
That's three floor shits.
He knew Pikachu, but everybody knows Pikachu.
Oh yeah that's Pikachu right there.
He called Weepinbell -
Oh, that's Almost a Pear.
Everybody knows that's Big-Dick-Bee!
Bees don't even have dicks! That's a stinger!