Originally Posted on Role/Reboot
I can’t believe he’s gone. As horrific and unlikely as the election of Donald Trump, the demise of Bill O’Reilly is almost as unbelievable but also wonderful and far, far overdue.
Bill’s life is a parade of continuous insult and cruelty, piped in the houses of old men who share the sentiment. It’s a safe space for curmudgeons to gather and dissect the many problems with “kids these days” and to throw around outdated terms for women and minorities. Continue reading
Caution: Do no read this, unless you have the sense of humor of a 12-year-old. Also, every word of this is true:
I had to get my butthole snaked and probed. I had some gut issues, and they wanted to make sure everything was okay. Spoiler: It’s all fine. But one of the gifts of middle age is that your asshole is no longer a private matter. The doctor is always, “how’s the asshole Mr. Lyngar? Is your cock working okay?” and “why are you so fat?” I am paraphrasing, but these are the questions one must answer as routine after hitting 40 or so. Continue reading