Chris Fairbanks is without a doubt one of the funniest guys working right now. His brain is a fucking mental battlefield. Here, he talks about the subtle differences in texture between Campbell's Chunky Soup and Champbell's Cunky Soup.
ENJOY!
I actually hate Campbell's Soup. It tastes like a North American Elk's runs. And I hate Reggie White's mother for always double checking with him on whether or not he had his morning dose.
Really Mrs. White? Thick, chunky, meat filled soup before a big game? How 'bout we just give him a milkshake and a bag of Sour Patch Kids during timeouts too. So he can suck wind up and down the field and then blow chunks in the Gatorade bucket.
Most mothers show up to half time with orange slices and jugs of water. Old lady White is showing up with cans of tomato bisque.
"Um, I think we're all set Mrs. White. Thanks for the offer, but we've got 2 quarters of playoff football left and I don't know if your home made fucking chowder is gonna settle well. You think you could show up with a goddamn PowerBar next time please? Something a world class athlete WOULD ACTUALLY EAT DURING A GAME!"
At least she doesn't look like a black leprechaun stripper who's best years are in her rearview. She has more miles on her than *Frank Lambert's Toyota Tacoma.
*STEP BY STEP REFERENCE....COUNT IT!
Showing posts with label Chris Fairbanks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris Fairbanks. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Chris Fairbanks RULES!
Chris Fairbanks shares with us his unforgettable moves at the "End of Sex". Must be nice. The End of Sex is the easy part. It's the beginning of sex that I have trouble with. It's definitely hard to get strangers to have sex with you. It's probably easier to get them to go for a ride in your car, and since that usually leads to rape anyways, I think there's a loop hole in their logic.
Don't get me wrong, I also struggle with the middle of sex. I usually only make it to the mid-point before I pull out, blow a whistle, and yell "Half-time" like a soccer referee. She expects to take a 5 minute break and suck down some orange wedges and gatorade, but instead I lean over and fill up 50% of a tall glass with pre-mature-ejaculatory-pancake batter.
Don't get me wrong, I also struggle with the middle of sex. I usually only make it to the mid-point before I pull out, blow a whistle, and yell "Half-time" like a soccer referee. She expects to take a 5 minute break and suck down some orange wedges and gatorade, but instead I lean over and fill up 50% of a tall glass with pre-mature-ejaculatory-pancake batter.
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