And then one day...

[_Smokey]

Hey, what do you call it when an adult man opens and exposes his crotch sans underwear to preschoolers?

[_canpakes]

Hey, what do you call it when an adult man opens and exposes his crotch sans underwear to preschoolers?

Lemme guess ... “Smokey visits the local preschool” ..?

[_Some Schmo]

Hey, what do you call it when an adult man opens and exposes his crotch sans underwear to preschoolers?

Hey, what do you call it when an adult man insists on believing BS?

Oh, I remember... religion.

[_Doctor Steuss]

Many moons ago, before soccer had claimed my knees, I was sitting down on the grass with the rest of the team as our coach reamed us. I don’t remember what exactly he was frothing at this particular time -- he generally had two settings; simply existing, and unleashing hellfire.

He would usually have us sit on the ground in the same formation as the positions we played, for some OCD reason. He would take turns on raining down spittle on the defense, and offense. I was a sweeper, and this go-around, it was the defense that got the front row seat.

While he was doing his rain dance to drench us with the wrath of the soccer gods, he shoved his hands in his pockets, which caused his shorts to simultaneously ride up. There, no more than 5 feet in front of me, scrode. Old man scrode.

He was absolutely oblivious to his equatorial giblets being aired out, and we all averted our gaze as to not have to contemplate what our reproductive bits would look like later on in life.

When he noticed that everyone was avoiding having to stare at the pendulum train wreck, he became even more enraged, and yelled for everyone to look at him while he was scolding us. Those next 30-or-so seconds of his reproductive bits staring into my soul seemed like a lifetime.

It was on that day that I vowed to never vote for a liberal.

[_Some Schmo]

He was absolutely oblivious to his equatorial giblets being aired out, and we all averted our gaze as to not have to contemplate what our reproductive bits would look like later on in life.

No comment here, except LMAO.

Great story.

It was on that day that I vowed to never vote for a liberal.

Don't blame you. How else would someone respond?

[_MissTish]

The last few posts are absolute perfection

[_DarkHelmet]

Reasonable people can be offended by a strip show for children. They are pushing the boundaries of social norms, which creates controversy and discussion, generating publicity, which is always great for a cause. What I find funny is the "people voted for Hitler" memes are essentially saying Trump is Hitler. Maybe the Democrats created this meme, but I don't think they're that clever.

[_Morley]

Some parents allow their kids to do things that are against the mores of others, and in some cases might be psychologically damaging; therefore, kill all of the Jews and gays.

Five star thread. Would read again.

Many moons ago, before soccer had claimed my knees, I was sitting down on the grass with the rest of the team as our coach reamed us. I don’t remember what exactly he was frothing at this particular time -- he generally had two settings; simply existing, and unleashing hellfire.

He would usually have us sit on the ground in the same formation as the positions we played, for some OCD reason. He would take turns on raining down spittle on the defense, and offense. I was a sweeper, and this go-around, it was the defense that got the front row seat.

While he was doing his rain dance to drench us with the wrath of the soccer gods, he shoved his hands in his pockets, which caused his shorts to simultaneously ride up. There, no more than 5 feet in front of me, scrode. Old man scrode.

He was absolutely oblivious to his equatorial giblets being aired out, and we all averted our gaze as to not have to contemplate what our reproductive bits would look like later on in life.

When he noticed that everyone was avoiding having to stare at the pendulum train wreck, he became even more enraged, and yelled for everyone to look at him while he was scolding us. Those next 30-or-so seconds of his reproductive bits staring into my soul seemed like a lifetime.

It was on that day that I vowed to never vote for a liberal.

Oh Dear God, thank you for crusty bread, all types of art, Teeling Single Grain Whiskey, and man boobs. But most of all, especially in the face of otherwise hopeless stupidity, thank you for Steuss. Amen.

[_Smokey]

Smokey, using visuals to augment an argument is one thing. But the memes are selected to elicit a strong emotional response, which in and of itself is not an argument. If you 'get' a meme, you're making a connection between an image and a cognitive position, but that doesn't explain the how the connection is made.

So come out from behind the meme and say what you mean.

It’s pretty clear what is meant. That’s the point of a concise message.

Memes are infinitely more useful than walls of obnoxious text written by, say, childless degenerates that advocate for the sexualization of other people’s children because they stared up their soccer coach’s shorts one time. An experience so normal that it can be recalled decades later in great detail for a blog style post defending mentally ill men intentionally flashing preschoolers.

We memed a reality tv star into being president of the United States.

[_canpakes]

We memed a reality tv star into being president of the United States.

And now a mentally ill man flashes all of America.