Via

Via

Full correspondence after the jump:

Click the pic to enlarge.

Note: I was just informed that these were originally done by the team over at Chemistry.  Well done.

Via

This is just priceless…from the comments in Jalopnik:

I feel I have to post this.
I worked as a sales person for a store in the Woodbridge/Vaughn area of Ontario. This area is notorious for ignorant douchers. Think “my new haircut”/ I wish I was from Jersey.

So close to the end of my car selling days before my career change I stopped caring and started having fun.

I end up with one of these douchers, on a test drive in a used Caddy Escalade.
So he is all “I know everything about cars” with me, and he is clearly a Prada sunglasses wearing knob. He kept referring to the Escalade as a “Sclade” and a “dirty whip”.

When we talked about the wheels he called them “duce duces” as this particular Cadillac was on the factory 22″ rims.

Douche.

Out on the test drive I start on about how this truck isn’t too bad on gas because this particular truck has a…………wait for it………

Flux Capacitor.

He said “Oh Yeah? Sweet….. I read about that in a popular mechanics at the doctor’s office” I am sure during a herpes check.

I actually wrote Flux Capacitor on the deal sheet in the options list we would write out to build value in the deal.

I closed the deal, in turn….I have sold a flux capacitor.
I held descent gross, but the guy got a good truck, and even being a douche he was taken care of nicely.

But the clown peni$ bought a flux capacitor.

Here is a scanned copy of the deal sheet. Enjoy. (circled in orange)

I hope when it hits 88 mph it just fucking explodes.  Nice work Kona41.

Via

Source

Via

damn…

1. the act of revenging; retaliation for injuries or wrongs; vengeance.

“Remember when the spaghetti we had tasted funny. Remember when you thought you tweaked a nerve in your mouth because your mouth was all numb each morning. While you were rubbing it in that you had been hired for your dream job to your concurrent boyfriend, I heard you mention your mandatory drug test. I mixed three whole grams of cocaine into your toothpaste. I also put about an eighth of marijuana into our spaghetti. I know you called all your friends and family over the course of five days to rub it in that you found your dream job; paid summer travel, great salary, great benefits, they were even going to pay for grad school. I know you sold me your truck because you wanted to rub it in that they were giving you a company truck. I know you spent most of the money from the truck celebrating your new job in Homer with your “new” boyfriend last weekend. I know you quit your current job because you were starting the new one in two weeks. I know you own the house, but I pay the mortgage because your old dead end job didn’t pay enough. I also know you cheated on me in the house we share. I know you lied when you told me you had cheated and said it was a one time deal. I know you used the condoms I bought. I know you still do, I poked holes in them. I also completely moved out while you were in Homer. I guess the cool thing about paying your mortgage was you never made me sign a lease. I am not going to sell your truck back to you; I’m not going to sell you back any of the furniture I bought. I know you are very confused why I disappeared thinking I had no idea you had been cheating for a while. I know they filled your old job because you told me blubbering and crying in the message you left me about how you miserably failed the drug test and lost your new job after one hour on the job, and you can’t get your old one back. I was going to ask you to marry me in June. Fuck you whore, have fun with foreclosure.”

College Humor Roommate Confessions

Getting owned sucks but getting a cash advance doesn’t have to.

Via B&P

It really is funny that with all the advancements that have been made to social networking and social bookmarking and social everything-ing that we’ve gotten to a point where every emotion, action, reaction, and opinion is instantly spewed all across the internet for everyone to see (except bloggers, of course…we’re different…somehow…)  If people were doing this on the internet back in the 90′s, we most assuredly would have called them nerds, pushed them down and then proceeded to shit on their heads.  Now, its so socially accepted that we’ve all become a bunch of internet-fucked cyberdweebs and we don’t even notice this ironic hilarity…

… I’m going the fuck outside.

Fail after the jump… might not be SFW.

You fucking fail, dude.  The best parts of the story:

Note on the box from the neighbor: “Sorry. This was accidentally delivered to our house, enjoy.”

Note on the box from mom: “Dear Nick.  This was by our mailbox.  Gross!  -Mom”

Via Banned In Hollywood.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MGM3jsPkPU]

I guess this is old.  However, I found it today…and lauuugghed and laughed. Via Boosh Magazine:

Tom,

It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel
like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am
truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people
in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I
would ever want to wrong in any way.

There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won’t even
try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a
stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve
it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us,
what I can’t handle is thinking that you see me as a different person.
It is weird, the world looked funny yesterday, I couldn’t crack a smile
if you paid me, there are songs I can’t listen to, and I just feel
beyond crushed.

I don’t know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn’t.
I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this
is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and
stupid, I can’t imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and
weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn’t reflect
that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I
hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person,
because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back
what happened. I am so sorry.

- Sarah
 
——————————————————————————–
Dear Sarah,

Thank you for your concern. I’ll be sure to file it away under ‘L’ for
‘Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn’t care less about’.
You did a stupid thing huh?

No…doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is ‘a stupid
thing’; Mixing in a red Sock with a load of whites is ‘a stupid thing’;
Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar
wondering if you’re taking so long because you ate too much raisin bran
that morning isn’t as much a ‘Stupid thing’ as it is grounds for
permanent removal from my social calendar. To be honest, I’m not sure if

it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public
toilet not once, but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think
that by saying ‘Well, I didn’t Fuck him’ somehow gave you a clean slate.
So forgive me if I couldn’t care less if the world ‘looked funny’ to you
yesterday. Since your World revolves around blow dryers, golden
retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I’m sure it must have been most
unsettling to actually have to consider someone else’s feelings for 24
hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don’t think
you’re a terrible person, they just think you’re the average run of the
mill cum-guzzling blonde who commands about as much respect as your
average child porn collector.

By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you
really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do.
Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like
watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.

PS. I forwarded this email to about 100 people.

Talk to you never,

Tom

Ahhh…young love.