Bananas are the icicles of the nectar of the gods, but they can be harder to open than a bottle of ラムネ, and we all know how hard that is, right?  Well, lucky for you, this guide will provide you with a number of methods you can use to unpack that potassium and start packing your pie hole (please do not confuse with corn hole).

Method 1:  The Bare Minimum

            Step 1:  Peel the banana with your dominant hand, maintaining control of the fruit with your non-dominant hand like a little punk.

            Step 2:  Eat the goddamn banana.

Method 2:  The Grenade

            Step 1:  Take cover.

            Step 2:  Pull a banana from your belt.  Grab the stem of the banana and pull the pin, extra points for doing it with your manly teeth and then spitting it through an enemy’s face.

            Step 3:  Eat the banana and remember to tell your friend’s wife that he loved her.

Method 3:  The Vivisection

            Step 1:  Gloves.

            Step 2:  Sanitizer.

            Step 3:  Forceps.

            Step 4:  Scalpel.

            Step 5:  Make incision along the belly of the banana, laughing maniacally as you do so.

            Step 6:  Pull apart the skin of the banana and remove the entire inner flesh of the living creature.

            Step 7:  Hold it up to the light and continue to laugh maniacally.

            Step 8:  Eat the banana, for science.

Method 4:  The Alien

            Step 1:  Have your alien parent attach to the face of a banana and physically violate it when it comes to inspect your egg.

            Step 2:  Wait until the banana sits down to a nice meal.

            Step 3:  Explode from the banana’s chest.  The banana is now open

.

Method 5:  The Messy Method

            Step 1:  Select a large banana.

            Step 2:  Put banana in mouth.

            Step 3:  Pull banana out of mouth.

            Step 4:  Compliment banana.

            Step 5:  Put banana back in mouth.

            Step 6:  Pull banana out of mouth, slowly.

            Step 7:  Push banana into mouth to the back of throat.

            Step 8:  Bite down gently and nibble on banana.

            Step 9:  Take it too far and bite into banana.

            Step 10:  Pull banana out of mouth, peeling the outer skin away and exposing the tender inner tissue.

            Step 11:  Wipe mouth and eat banana… you sick bastard.

~ Tyro

Side note by Roark:

You thought that last one was sexual didn’t you? I bet you’re regretting that one right about now aren’t you? Aren’t you?

Yep.

How to Open a Banana

Bananas are the icicles of the nectar of the gods, but they can be harder to open than a bottle of…

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doug1

Beloved childhood character going through the sorrow-ridden hell that is college, this should be amusing at the least.

- Pavluvre

Alright you ADHD internet people, bare with this one. It’s worth the buildup, so keep reading.
- Roark

Paul waited at the kitchen table in complete darkness. He thought back to all the meals they had enjoyed there, all the memories they cherished. At least he cherished them. The table was completely clear except for two items: a small plate with a few crumbs on it and a glass full of milk. He would occasionally glance down at these items in contempt as he waited for his wife in painful silence.

            Finally, the doorknob shook around and the door opened, revealing a small brown-haired woman in a pea coat, busily collapsing her umbrella.

            “Well, hello Lauren. How nice of you to join me,” said Paul, not bothering to turn on the lamp which was barely a foot away from him.

            “Oh Paully, you scared me,” said Lauren as she turned on the light switch and uncomfortably adjusted her coat. “What are you doing up? It’s 1am.”

            “I’m aware of the time. Why don’t you just sit down? It’s about time we had a little talk,” he said

            “B-but, what are you talking about? It’s late, we have work in the morning - it’s late!” she said.

            “Just sit down,” he said, gesturing towards the empty seat across the table.

They simply stood there for a few moments before Lauren finally took her seat. Paul leaned in slowly, but without breaking eye contact with his wife of 7 years.

            “I want a divorce, Lauren. I want a divorce. I know.” he said at last.

            “W-what? What the fuck, Paul? What do you mean you ‘know’? I don’t have any clue what you’re talking about,” she said.

            “What do I mean…What do I mean. I know Lauren. I know you ate the last fucking cookie. You took that last triple chocolate macadamia nut cookie and you just ate it. Are the double chocolates not good enough for you, Lauren? Is anything good enough for you?” Lauren held her defiant posture for a moment but finally collapsed, unable to compose herself anymore. With the restraint of a small child, she sobbed, resting her head on the table.

            “Oh Paul…I didn’t think you’d notice. I just…I had this hole inside of me…this gaping hole, and it couldn’t be filled by anything but that damn delicious, forbidden cookie. Oh god…that luscious, brown color….that firm, hard feeling…I can hardly think about them without drooling…I want it in my mouth…”

            “Look at you. I always knew you were using me for my firm, brown cookies. You should leave,” said Paul in disgust.

            “But Paul…we’re so perfect for each other. Why, we’re nearly equally afraid of dying alone. There’s never been such a perfect couple!” said Lauren, “Plus…‘Steel Begonias” has a new episode on tonight at eight…” Lauren pointed out rather seductively.

            “Oh it’s far too late for…wait, ‘Steel Begonias’? Are you sure it’s new?”

            “Yes,” responded Lauren with tearful passion. “I heard an ad on the way back from fucking your brother”

And so they embraced and found a spot on their familiar couch. At last, all was as it should be.

~ Mr. Gnome

Alright you ADHD internet people, bare with this one. It’s worth the buildup, so keep reading.
- Roark

Paul waited at the kitchen table in complete darkness. He thought back to all the meals they had enjoyed there, all the memories they cherished. At…

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doug1

Beloved childhood character going through the sorrow-ridden hell that is college, this should be…

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shared via WordPress.com

Bananas are the icicles of the nectar of the gods, but they can be harder to open than a bottle of ラムネ, and we all know how hard that is, right?  Well, lucky for you, this guide will provide you with a number of methods you can use to unpack that potassium and start packing your pie hole (please do not confuse with corn hole).

Method 1:  The Bare Minimum

            Step 1:  Peel the banana with your dominant hand, maintaining control of the fruit with your non-dominant hand like a little punk.

            Step 2:  Eat the goddamn banana.

Method 2:  The Grenade

Step 1:  Take cover.

            Step 2:  Pull a banana from your belt.  Grab the stem of the banana and pull the pin, extra points for doing it with your manly teeth and then spitting it through an enemy’s face.

            Step 3:  Eat the banana and remember to tell your friend’s wife that he loved her.

Method 3:  The Vivisection

            Step 1:  Gloves.

            Step 2:  Sanitizer.

            Step 3:  Forceps.

            Step 4:  Scalpel.

            Step 5:  Make incision along the belly of the banana, laughing maniacally as you do so.

            Step 6:  Pull apart the skin of the banana and remove the entire inner flesh of the living creature.

            Step 7:  Hold it up to the light and continue to laugh maniacally.

            Step 8:  Eat the banana, for science.

Method 4:  The Alien

            Step 1:  Have your alien parent attach to the face of a banana and physically violate it when it comes to inspect your egg.

            Step 2:  Wait until the banana sits down to a nice meal.

            Step 3:  Explode from the banana’s chest.  The banana is now open.

Method 5:  The Messy Method

            Step 1:  Select a large banana.

            Step 2:  Put banana in mouth.

            Step 3:  Pull banana out of mouth.

            Step 4:  Compliment banana.

            Step 5:  Put banana back in mouth.

            Step 6:  Pull banana out of mouth, slowly.

            Step 7:  Push banana into mouth to the back of throat.

            Step 8:  Bite down gently and nibble on banana.

            Step 9:  Take it too far and bite into banana.

            Step 10:  Pull banana out of mouth, peeling the outer skin away and exposing the tender inner tissue.

            Step 11:  Wipe mouth and eat banana… you sick bastard.

~ Tyro

Side note by Roark:

You thought that last one was sexual didn’t you? I bet you’re regretting that one right about now aren’t you? Aren’t you?

Yep.

Bananas are the icicles of the nectar of the gods, but they can be harder to open than a bottle of ラムネ, and we all know how hard that is, right?  Well, lucky for you, this guide will provide you with a number of methods you can use to unpack that…

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shared via WordPress.com

In an effort to spend your parents’ money as unnecessarily as possible (yeah, I totally saved up, like, $300 bucks for the semester, Dad), you, you intrepid explorer, you modern day Marco Polo, have decided towastespend a semester studying abroad-ly. The wonderful friends you’ve made, the university you adore, the bars you’ve just now gained admittance to, all are now separated from you by thousands of miles of salt water, sand, molten lava, or a combination of the three. What the fuck were you thinking? Jesus, you are a dumbass.

To those who haven’t made this financially and spiritually dubious decision, but are seriously considering it because,

“I want to explore a different culture,” (wanker)

“I want to become fluent in another language,” (delusional wanker)

“I hope that my experience will help foster cross-cultural understanding,” (kill yourself)

be aware that where you choose to study abroad says as much about yourself as the brand of shoes you wear: either it’s totally unremarkable and unmemorable, or it will be filed away in the backs of the minds of the people you greet, a small yet not insignificant fault which will be summoned to the fore when they wish to judge you harshly.

Without further ado, here are the Seven Circles of STUDY ABROAD HELL, judgment day style:

1. Beijing, Bangkok, or any other East Asian country with a non-phonetic alphabet.

Remember freshmen orientation, when you were THAT GUY who was all like, “I think learning Chinese would be really cool” while everyone else was clawing at each other to get into the lowest level Spanish course? How did that brilliant bit of eighteen year old self-absorption work out?

But I can play nice, too. Clearly, if you persevered through hours of pictographic hell and bullshit cultural activities to wind up studying in the place from whence your personal hell originated, I applaud you. More importantly, I would probably hire you for a job after graduation, even if the job was shoveling shit or destroying sensitive documents for $12 an hour. Why? Because you strike me as a serious person willing to take on difficult challenges in alien environments, all while sticking out like a sore thumb. You didn’t go to Tokyo for the party, and if you did, the hours of half-tipsy, maddeningly-repetitive karaoke would surely have made you borderline suicidal by Christmas break. Also, you probably know how to shut up and take orders. Welcome to your new, cubicled home, young scholar!

Eternal punishment: forever making just under six figures, thereby dealing with your spouse’s disappointment over the reality that little Tommy and Suzy have to go to public school.

For a slightly less difficult adjustment, there’s always

2. Arabia/Africa

Oh, you. I know you too well. Growing up and watching the egregious errors of the post-9/11, let’s bomb the world’s sandbox decade led you to believe that, if you learned Arabic and immersed yourself in Middle Eastern culture (or, that if you learned Swahili and walked into the jungle with two tons of condoms), you could make a difference, build some cultural bridges, and have a douchey “well ya see, I studied in Cairo” riposte to every partygoer who dares voice a slightly different opinion about US foreign policy vis-á-vis the rest of the world.

And then you got off the plane.

Now, it’s not bad. It’s just so…beige. And, truth be told, Arabs just aren’t that different from Americans. They love to drive and have little concept of public transportation, much of the populace is well-educated, many can be conservative to a fault, and a lot of them drink on the down low anyway. They even have Arabic-style fast food, for fuck’s sake (yes, I would like fries and a Pepsi with my fried shawerma, please). If you take it even halfway seriously, you’ll probably become proficient in a couple of Arabic dialects, but then what? You sell your soul to the CIA, you file paperwork in an embassy, or you sit at home, unemployed, watching Lawrence of Arabia on loop while weeping softly.

Eternal punishment: going into obscure Arab villages and explaining to families, face to face, why the U.S. decided that their house should no longer exist. Hey, you asked for it.

Screw the desert, you should seriously consider

3. France/Spain/Italy

Yes, you’re going to put that French 102 to use. I’m sure the locals will be thrilled. Sure, when you talk about your life-changing experience in the years to come, people will ooh and aah over your European enlightenment. You saw ruins? And old churches? And you had a short, passionate romance with a tall, dark (short, buxom) man (woman) named Felipe (Bella)?

Give it up, dude. The pretext is paper thin; yes, you’re going to a place where they speak a different language, but the alphabet and the skin tone aren’t anything new. The excellent health care will just make you even angrier at your home country upon your return, which, in turn, will make you even more of an insufferable college liberal at parties where people want to talk about anything but politics. Put down Don Quixote, little one. A summer in Madrid doesn’t mean that you’re special; it just means that Daddy has money.

Eternal punishment: giving tours through obscure vineyards in California wine country, telling every retired couple how the landscape there simply doesn’t compare to the French countryside, while losing the house to your wife in divorce proceedings and being hung up on by your estranged son.

But hey, you’re still better off than going to

4. Amsterdam

Jesus, dude, we all like weed. What fucking geopolitical significance do the Netherlands have, again? Don’t pretend like you’re going to learn Dutch, either, as if everyone over there doesn’t speak English fluently anyway.

Normally I’m down with squeezing Mom and Dad for every last penny, but seriously, think of the dent you’ve put into their retirement with this four month, special brownie excursion. Save them some cash, and follow my advice: go to Carrboro, buy some seeds off of a peace-and-love type grower (you know here to find them, and if you don’t, you know a guy who does), move into Greg’s basement, and just live off of Hostess products for a semester. Either way, you’ll have gained nothing.

Eternal punishment: lung cancer.

Now throw off that drug rug, because we’re taking a double-decker bus to our next expensive mistake, beautiful

5. London/UK

Yes, English majors, that is the house where Shakespeare was born. Now GTFO.

Eternal punishment: being a teacher.

Please, hombre, hop into that nicotine coated cab and shout sur! because we’re half-riding, half walking to

6. Latin America

If you’re studying abroad in Latin America, honestly, you’re kind of doing it right. At least, you’re doing it right-er than most of the other people who’ve found themselves trapped in other circles of pretentious hell. You’re learning a language which will be useful upon your return to the States, and, while many parts of Central and South America are beautiful, you’ll spend a lot of time working at concrete important tasks. Most of the people I know who’ve studied abroad in Latin America did so because they wanted to get up close and personal with issues like systemic poverty, lack of access to basic resources, and the daily struggle of understaffed medical centers (of course I’m not saying that Latin America is unmitigated hell from TexMex to Patagonia, but many programs there focus on some serious shit, man).

Here’s the thing, though: right now, you’re ready to dive in, and meet this horrible inequality head on, hoping that you’ll gain the knowledge and experience to fight these issues effectively in ten years’ time. And some of you, too few of you, will. The rest of you will burnout, unable to handle what you encounter daily. Then, you’ll crawl back to the U.S., marry the first Business major you meet, move into a McMansion in the suburbs, and vote Republican for the rest of your life.

Better to be cynically liberal from a distance than to get too involved and realize, “fuck it, I’m a rich white American and I’m no longer going to fight my fate.”

Eternal punishment: remember, even if you eventually get clean, you’re never not a cocaine addict.

And finally, we have

7. Australia/New Zealand

I’ve expressed half-sincere admiration for Beijingers, empathized with desert dwellers, sniped at European backpackers, and grieved for the good idealists lost in South America.

For you I have nothing. I feel nothing.

You left a place where people speak English and drink a lot so that you could go to a place where people speak English and drink a lot. And you did it so…shamelessly. Pretending all the while that you were going to learn so much on a trip where the most rigorous academic component involves trying to say “’alo, mate” without one of the locals punching you in the face. Yet I can’t even be angry with you, the dregs of society. In a way, it’s an issue of cosmic balance, I suppose.

Australia gave us Foster’s, Crocodile Dundee, and Steve Irwin. In exchange, we give them you people. This is okay. It’s not good. It’s not bad, it’s even.

Eternal punishment: being beaten soundly, in every bar you ever go to, by the ever present roaming pack of dickhead Australians, who will shout “AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE, OY OY OY” while kicking you in the balls and seducing your girlfriend.

Just remember, kids, never expand your horizons and spend your entire life in a cocoon.

1st in the series of Little Orphan Annie. Starwars humor- classic

full link: http://tasteblue.wordpress.com/series-1-little-orphan-annie/little-orphan-annie-1/