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I got all these Adam West underpants for sale

Hey there pal, do you have a minute? It’s just that I have all these underpants with Adam West’s face on them and, coincidentally, he is now dead. Also coincidentally, I am selling these Adam West underpants for $350 each. For every sale, a portion of the licensing fees I did not pay would have gone toward Adam West’s personal bank account.

You want red underpants? I’ve got red underpants. You want blue ones? Join the club, that’s standard Batman underpants coloring! Of course we have those! We have everything! Yellow, black, white, orange? Jump on this underpants train before it leaves Booty Station! Do you want plaid underpants? Well fuck off. I don’t have plaid. That’s just ridiculous. I’m selling things I found in a dumpster. Don’t be so particular.

But seriously, I do have many, many underoos and Adam West is very, very dead. These two facts are not a coincidence. I’m not one who normally believes in fate, but I once got laid after sitting through the film “Love Always”, so fate is an idea I associate with very positively. Some might say I’m an expert on fate. Want proof? Look at all these goddamn Adam West underpants in my house! He croaked for a reason! I’m about to be richer than Dan Hanger!

I don’t want to suggest that Adam West died so I could sell you these underpants, but he did and I am. The planets have aligned, Adam West is being eaten by the secret mole people who inhabit the lands beneath us, and I’ve got buttloads of underpants with his face on them just waiting for their forever home. Adopt these butt covers ASAP!

New Wonder Woman film chock full of family fun, man nipples

The new Wonder Woman film begins typically enough. A smelly 700-foot-tall walrus has wandered into the city. As walruses are known to do, it immediately begins robbing liquor stores. The camera slowly pulls back to reveal that Wonder Woman is already on the scene! Chris Pine gives the performance of a lifetime as the Amazonian princess, bludgeoning the walrus to death and using the meat to make southwestern style sandwiches for everyone.

Pine’s subtlety as Wonder Woman is a breath of fresh air. Gone are the days of elaborate superhero outfits with giant floppy Lynda Carter boobs that just get in the way of the action. Pine’s sleek, flat-chested form and understated commoner attire allows his Wonder Woman to be more aerodynamic and relatable. Whether he’s punching Nazis, running over Nazis with a motorcycle or arguing on the phone with a Nazi internet service provider who simply will not remove the installation fee, Pine’s modest, proportional breasts provide a fresh, innovative Wonder Woman experience.

Plain-looking Israeli model Gal Gadot does well as hapless sidekick Steve Trevor. Her outfit provides the film’s only downside, with her gaudy red armor, gold with red star headband and golden lasso looking a bit elaborate for a sidekick. Fortunately, Pine’s seasonally-colored turtleneck sweater makes it clear which character is truly wondrous.

Report: It’s almost June and you haven’t done crap yet

The latest report is in and it strongly confirms what the entire nation has feared: that you personally are a lazy piece of shit. It’s nearly June and you’ve accomplished nothing this year, gone nowhere and achieved little beyond drinking yourself to sleep while watching old episodes of Frasier. The nation is utterly disappointed in you.

You spent all of January meticulously planning a workout regimen you never used. February was spent plotting against your significant other to protect the prime placement of your He-Man collectibles in the den. March was five degrees chillier than normal so you completely stopped functioning that month. April and May were spent worrying about how you’ve done nothing this year. At least you know.

Each day you coast through work, get super high before dinner and then spend the rest of the evening watching movie trailers on YouTube while daydreaming that you made them and are revealing them at a special screening for all the people you hate. This sad routine allows you to pay your rent, but does not constitute any actual accomplishments.

Your guide to Fidget Spinners, a stupid thing no one will care about in six months

What are fidget spinners?
Remember back when you had a flip phone, and it was kinda fun to flip it open and closed over and over again, and you’d have to remind yourself to stop doing it so much because you were afraid you’d become one of those weird guys at the bus station who makes little noises for no reason? Fidget spinners serve the same function. They give high-functioning mentally ill people a calming bit of busywork to focus on so they don’t physically attack others.

Seriously, what is this shit? I can’t Google it! I’m under 30 and intimidated by large uninterrupted paragraphs of text!
Fidget spinners are small mechanical devices with multiple paddle-shaped blades attached to a central core. Flick the blades with your finger and they spin. They’re collectible, and great entertainment for spaz kids and adults who must touch a doorknob exactly seven times before exiting a room.

Collectible? So it’s like pogs that actually do something?
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Pogs are cool! There is subtle craftwork to these misunderstood works of art. For example, the 1994 Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Power Pog Pack has a simplistic “I spent four years studying graphic design and I don’t give a shit about this humiliating pog assignment, so here’s character artwork on a plain yellow background” style of punk rock credibility that is a feast for the eyes once the mind has been enlightened to its rich backstory.

Smurfette found dead in gym bag

County Coroner Brevin Bufang rises before dawn and covers his penis with multiple layers of clothing. He fixes a light breakfast of bacon and orange juice, but no eggs. Eggs make him nauseous.

In a warehouse downtown, a pair of small black eyes peer out of a desecrated gym bag. A severed blue head, lifeless but still terrified in its expression, patiently awaits discovery inside. A few locks of golden hair, still soft to the touch and remarkably shiny, curl their way around the zipper before becoming frayed and twisted in its teeth. To anyone born in the 1980s, there’s no mistaking the bag’s contents. Smurfette – the sex kitten who once shook the bourgeois cartoon world to its very core – has been murdered.

The 1980s were the perfect backdrop for blue girls who just wanted to have fun, and Smurfette was the bluest bitch in town. In 1983, she gained notoriety by deflowering Diff’rent Strokes actor Gary Coleman, who was a mere 15 years old at the time. In 1985, she completely shattered her innocent persona by posing for a sultry pictorial in Buttfuckers Magazine. In 1988, she was banned from the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards for throwing a lit crack pipe at host Tony Danza.