There is proof of perpetual motion that has escaped scientists for years. The idea that perpetual motion is fantasy can be disproved with two words:
Parkinson's Disease.
Think about it, has anyone ever seen someone afflicted by this miracle of science/debilitating disease stop moving. It amazes me how simple facts like these can escape people for so long. I should have been a scientist, I’d be rich by now.
A Poop Terrorist is a danger in any office. Most likely, everyone reading this has seen the wrath that a Poop Terrorist can bring to any restroom. Picture this: You stroll into a stall and look into the toilet only to be assaulted with what you can only imagine a rabid gorilla could accomplish with a week of preparation.
Poop Terrorists feel that it is their right to use twenty times more toilet paper than necessary, and then leave it precariously situated on top of what they just dispensed. Then, they think that the rules don’t apply to them so they FUCKING LEAVE IT IN THE TOILET WITHOUT FLUSHING. These people feel that they are above everyone else, and that everyone should have to see/smell their waste every time they de-clench.
Now we here at proof-facts are not above some toilet humor, however, Poop Terrorists should not be allowed to poop willy-nilly without repercussions. The office some proof-facts contributors work at is currently suffering from a Poop Terrorist and you better believe we are on the case.
Update: We have the identity of the Poop Terrorist and are waiting until it is most advantageous to divulge it.
If you are ever going to be caught do anything perverse or sexual in nature then this is it. Not only is it the best way to be found dead, but after further review, it’s the best way to be found alive.
There is no explanation, nothing to say that can save the situation. “I was just…” There is no end to that sentence that will work for you. You also can’t run any mess about being curious about the texture since you didn’t like the pudding and expect to get anywhere with that, believe me.
It’s not all bad though, being caught with your dick buried up to your balls in a jar of applesauce can certainly carry any boring conversation you get find yourself in. Say some boring prick is droning on, BOOM, you interrupt with “My girlfriend’s sister caught me punishing a jar of applesauce.” The conversation just got a lot more interesting. Living in infamy is better than listening to that prick describe his childhood infatuation with butterflies.
After seeing several celebrity deaths in the last few years, some having the body discovered naked, or in an odd position, the topic of what is the best way to be found dead came up. The best way to be found dead is completely naked with your dick in a jar of applesauce.
This revelation would raise all sorts of questions. Why was he fucking the applesauce, and why did it kill him? Was that the first time he fucked the applesauce, or was it common? I would also like to have “I love Applesauce” written in permanent marker across my chest. Another bonus of being found in this position is that even if you are unknown, people will still talk about your passing. Also, it is imperative to have an “I hate applesauce” headband, you know, to create controversy. This also creates the opportunity for a brilliant head stone: He died doing what he loved… applesauce.
With the instant fame your death would bring you should take measures to ensure your final positioning. This outcome can’t really be guaranteed unless you plan to commit suicide. Since most of us have no plans for that, you should plan a will so that if found dead by a friend or relative, they must strip you naked and place your dick in the applesauce themselves, thus claiming a hefty reward. This is as close to a guarantee as can be mustered.
On the surface this seems like an easy decision, and when the facts are examined, it is, the answer is aids. B.O. might be the most damaging thing that can happen to a person, socially and in the work environment.
Lets take a look at a couple of cases, one has B.O. and the other has aids.
The first guy sleeps on newspapers or in the subway when the police don’t run him off. He begs for food, money, and anything else that he thinks might be worth some something. When seen on the street people avoid him like the plague and cover their mouths in horror. He collects cans and digs in the trash for God knows what.
The second guy is a millionaire, is on tv regularly, and oh yeah is part owner of the Los Angeles Lakers. Also, this guy slept with like a thousand chicks, and he can dunk. When seen on the street people flock to him to get autographs, pictures, or just to talk to him. His friends range from famous athletes to actors. Oh yeah, he was recently in a Superbowl commercial as well.
Who would you rather be? That’s right, the second guy. Guess what? Yeah, he’s the one with aids. So there you have it, aids is more desirable than B.O.