After accidentally scribbling nonsense on a verification screen and seeing that it didn’t trigger any alerts, Kingpin at DrunkRepublic decided to start goofing around with his signature when using his credit card. It led to some fun times for a while. Then it backfired. (Warning: the image after the jump is cartoonishly NSWF in a Comcast-at-the-Superbowl sort of way.)
After examining the Lil’ Hauler Plush Toy Trailer (left, $9.95), reader Matt found that its proboscis bore an unmistakable reference to something he hadn’t been able to find among his fat folds in some time.
It’s Good Friday, and we here in Ireland are a little bit angry. Not only are our Gawker overlords making us actually work today, but it seems Irish off-licenses don’t sell alcohol on Good Friday and the theological reminder that Jesus actually drank wine on the day of his death isn’t enough to get them to open up, no matter how many times we call the owner’s house and scream Bible verses at him.
Like most of you, we at the Consumerist have an entire Hotmail account devoted to unsolicited emails from Eastern European girls asking us if we want to see naked pictures of them and making frankly personal inquiries as to the size of our penis. And while we are always eager to see more anonymous hot and naked girls, we’ve learned long since that no pill on Earth is going to help us so much that we will have to tape our member to our chest when getting dressed every morning. These products just never work as advertised.