Hey Thinkers,
Welcome to my hilarious blog. Here you will meet a bunch of crazy folks that live inside my head. Mostly hateful, nasty critters, but they do make a decent point here and there.
I have one major rule (followed by an ever-expanding pantheon of minor ones): NO PERSONAL ATTACKS.
Think, disagree, argue. Don't be an asshole. My characters will take care of that. Cuss all you want but speak coherently and please proofread your comments.
These things will help you not only look smarter but help you to be taken seriously.
I welcome everyone to choose a side and rebut, refute, bandy, and bicker. Have fun with it.
Enjoy the show.


Facebook Group

Here I have reprinted some of the Facebook group content. Enjoy. Comment often.

Langhorne’s Rogues Gallery
ENEMY #17: Fast Food Straws

First of all, what happened? Straws used to be a simple tubular device, you know, for drinks. The wrappers were a simple task of tap and pull. Now it’s all gone fucking haywire. Specialized cutting equipment is required to extricate the straw from the constrictive tightness of the paper condom. Remember blowing the paper at your friend? Fun right? Well not anymore. Now you’re more likely to cause yourself an aneurysm before the sleeve breaks free and even if you somehow succeed, you will draw blood. Believe me, this is no longer considered innocent or cute. No, shooting a wrapper at someone is a clear sign of aggression.

So you’ve bullied the straw from the wrapper. You can now feel the impressive weight of this simple plastic tube. Gazing down at its John Holmes length and girth, you ask yourself if this is going to fit in your mouth. Thoughts of having to unhinge your jaw occur. And why is it the length of your leg? Does it double as a cane? You consider putting the drink on the floor and driving the straw down like a post-hole digger. You take a stab and miss. The cheap brittle piece of shit cock sized straw splits along the side rendering it useless and forcing you to start the process over again. I don’t know about you but at this point, I’m exhausted.

After a few calming breathes you, approach your drink with a surgeon’s calm, ask the heavens for help, and after Ben tells you to “use the force” you shut your eyes and thrust. A shudder of joy, a victorious cry. Possible high-fives, I don’t know but dammit, this is a fucking moment. Of course upon further inspection you see the straw deforming as it passes through the triangles of destruction. You take a tentative sip…Well…You know what I mean…After all, the straw takes approximately a half gallon of liquid before it reaches your tongue. Success.

Sweet success. Only one question remains, where do you place the cup? Too close and you’ll have to stand on tiptoes every time you take a sip. Too far and you will need assistance in tipping it towards your mouth. And trust me; you do not want to get this wrong. I have the circular scars on my soft palate to prove it.


Langhorne’s Daily Pearls 12/13/12 thru 12/23/12

For a buck and a quarter per I’ll definitely call frozen pizza a vegetable. -LJT

For every one of that guy, there are at least five Langhorne’s. Admit it, you feel a little better now, don’t you. -LJT

Just because you were there don’t start thinking you’re an expert. -LJT

Listen up world, this one is important. There is no such thing as too much cheese. -LJT

I hate because I love. -LJT


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