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Blame it on the imps.
Blame it on the imps.
Ben, I really, really think that when you're writing a story about a nice, sweet lady and her excellent customer service, you should lay off the analingus and nipple references. Please save those for the Halliburton and Wal-Mart stories, where they are more appropriate.
Cheryl. have we had sex?
Airship, we like juxtaposition. It's kinky like a housing project.
More analingus and nipple references, please, in all stories.
I eagerly searched the site for the afforementioned cookie flavors, to no avail.
Ben, do you have a direct URL? Especially for the nipple cookies, actually.
Analingus and nipple references are less creepy than the photo of the company CEO that accompanies the story. Is she selling cookies or collecting souls?
Mostly I find the sphincter reference offensive because of its inaccuracy. You can't fellate a sphincter.
Jesse, obviously you've never worked in publishing.
I find something that looks good in the website catalog, but after choosing it I'm met with this message:
\"Unfortunately, due to the popularity of this gift, it is no longer available.\"
Sold out?! Of baked goods?
Umm, why don't you bake more of them, then?
How very small British shopkeeper of Cheryl and her cronies.
Reminds me of a conversation my father had many late Sunday mornings with the perpetual trainees of Dunkin Donuts:
Father: ... and three chocolate glazed.
Trainee: Umm, we're out of chocolate glazed.
Father: Every week I come in here and every week you're out of chocolate glazed. Why don't you make more of them?
Trainee: We do make more, we just sell out every Sunday.
Father: Well why don't you make even more of them then?
Trainee: We do, but we always sell out.
... (Lather, Rinse, Repeat)
The rim job have you so excited you've started to repeat yourself?