I hate the smell of drool on plastic in the morning.


First of all, I would like to personally thank you for reading the posts on this page. We are new, and offering nothing new but our opinions and rants on pop culture. We have decided to use the following rules to help guide us in our postings:
1. Be as entertaining as we possibly can.
2. Try to make the posts under two pages (if you wanted to read war and peace you wouldn’t be looking at our second rate pop culture blog).
3. Use profanity whenever we can. Fuck yeah.

Now to the meat and potatoes of the post:

How many of you remember the late 70’s? How many of you remember those stupid costumes that consisted of a cheap plastic mask and an even cheaper plastic sheet? I hated (and still hate to this day) those fucking half rate costumes, and that I was forced to wear them for an entire day of early elementary school.

I grew up in a small town in Ohio, budgets were tight and for Halloween you had two choices: Have your Mom make you a costume or go to the local drug store and buy one of those goddamned Mask and Sheet kits.

One of my earliest memories of Halloween was dressing up as R2-D2 for my Kindergarten class. I remember strutting my stuff down the hallway walking into class ready to wow them with my awesome plastic mask that didn’t quite fit my face so I could only see out of one eyehole, and a cheap plastic sheet describing what my costume was.

There were various levels of lame costumes. We had the generic clown, the cowboy with eyebrow pencil moustache, a honest to god sheet with holes cut out for eyes ghost, and a small army of star wars costumes. This is the point where you could tell which kids had moms that stayed at home and who had moms that worked a 40-hour week. One kid had a brown bathrobe and a broom handle painted blue, another kid had a garbage can decorated like a robot, and the rest of us had matching Mask and Sheet costumes of various characters.

It was at this point when battle lines were drawn, battles that would span the course of my public school career. All the R2 units gathered towards the back of the classroom and were ready to fight over who had the right to be called R2-D2. Whoever could mimic the sound effects of R2 the best would wear the golden badge of R2-D2, second place would be R5-D4, and the rest would be nameless losers.

Donny Buel was first. He rattled off a pretty sweet combination of tweets and twats (sorry, I just don’t get to use the word Twat enough in my every day vocabulary without being offensive), some other nameless schmuck from my childhood did a lame ass attempt and was quickly cut off by my rendition which ended in a massive dumpage of drool from my mouth down the plastic sheet onto my pants.

I still think if I could have kept the drool from falling out of my mouth I would have won that title, and my life would have been different from that point on. That was one of the first steps down the dark staircase to the basement of geekdom, and why my blood boils at the even mention of those crappy Mask and Sheet costume kits.

That is all.



2 Responses to I hate the smell of drool on plastic in the morning.

  1. Plucky says:

    Why did my dark master make me in charge of such a pathetic human? When I return to hell I will feast on the eyeballs of Donnie Buell and wash them down with the tears of Eric.


  2. gay porn dvd uk

    I hate the smell of drool on plastic in the morning. « SHSIBAE

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