Where's the "what's wrong thread"?
- Thread starter Electric_City
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- whinemonkey
I, for one, somehow feel.....better.
you know, as a borderline industry person, I just assumed it was my fault. Now, I feel so free...
Says Sandwich nervously as he realizes that we're on to him. He sends a text to "Mr. S." that reads "The Orangutans have caught the pop fly to center field" meaning 'the monkeys caught us'. He quickly runs over and shuts off his lights. Followed by going to his windows to close the blinds, taking one last peak out to see if we're watching him. He then darts to his apartment door and locks it. He puts the chain on and then both deadbolts. Sandwich heads back to his computer, chomping on his nails anxiously. He hits "F5, F5, F5" constantly to see if anyone else is on to them.
With no reply from "Mr. S.", Sandwich sends a text with "?!!!". He then texts "J&B" which isn't the wholesale company, but rather John Burke, the president of Trek (fuck you Trek!).
Sandwich anxiously checks the window again and notices that bald guy in the trench coat is still sitting on the park bench across from his apartment. He still has the newspaper in front of him as he turns his head and talks to "nobody". He then takes a glimpse from the corner of his eyes toward Sandwiches apartment! Hearing voices outside his door, Sandwich notices two tall shadows of men under his door. Murmurs of "we must change gears" and "4 piston brakes are needed to stop this" are heard. Sandwich runs for the closet and hides behind his clothes. He sends one last text to "Bobby" - Rob Roskopp. "The orangutans are loose. I repeat! The orangutans are loose!" as he strands alone in the corner of his closet, buried in clothes with just the bright blue light of his cell phone shining towards his face.
Side note- Ridemonkey's motto is "For The Industry™, by The Industry™" as a black ops think tank where they come to listen to our ramblings and then do exactly what we say we don't want. Thus, the industry is constantly changing.
In the meantime, Sandwich, locked in his apartment can't get to the bong shed and light it up to chill. Instead he's been popping pills that his shrink gave him to stop the hallucinations. His eyes are bloodshot and fingertips bleeding. He's been up all night.
Did The Industry™ consume its last "sandwich" last night?
We'll have to wait and see.
Ps. Sandwiches real name will appear in the obituaries as?
Shawn Orrechio
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There may be more than one, man... There may be more...
Awwww, I remember you guys sharing sausages in the Platty parking lot while I was pulling up blasting Maiden! Kiss & make up, already!
I had the same thought.
Roasting, if my recollections are correct.
I've offed a few monkeys and assumed their identities so as not to raise suspicion. But not jk.
Yet
why can users delete threads in the first place?
Seems pretty handy for tantrums. The whole thing reminds me of when I school my kid at Nintendo and he takes the controllers away and goes to his room.
Here I am as kidwoo. Watch this: PANTS SUCK! And so do your tires!
See? You'd never know the difference. Been like this for years.
-Westy
Lower all the bottom brackets!
