You've just ended a relationship. All you want to do now is be left alone to wallow in self-pity and Oreo cookies, but your friends insist on taking you out to the bar. And you know this evening is going to end very badly. Here's a breakdown of the night.
If I was trying to decide between a human or a chimpanzee as a bodyguard, I'd choose the chimp every time. Would YOU try and punch a 200-pound chimp? Hell no. You're gonna cover your face and try your best not to soil yourself.
Has anyone noticed that to like something these days is to instantly doom it to the realm of discontinued and thus endlessly search for an appropriate replacement? Yes, that includes all your favorite shampoos and TV shows.
You are a physiological pacifist and believe in a body where booze and antibiotics can coexist. Alas, modern medicine disagrees, so you decide to stop drinking temporarily. A part of you died on that day.
Friends, classmates, brothers and sisters in the human race, we are on the brink of a crisis: old people are starting to use Facebook!
We all stared as you crinkled up the piece of paper, walked across the room, and embarrassed yourself with that jumper. You could probably fit two regulation size basketballs in that trash can, but you still missed that shot.
Of all the stereotypically lame friends a girl has in her lame group of friends (examples include: shy friend, fat friend, ghetto Latina friend, overly masculine friend, and any combination thereof), no friend is more annoying than 'the crazy friend.'
With job loss, inflation, foreclosures and bankruptcy taking a toll on our country, people welcome any solution that may shore up the system. This has prompted my 7-year-old nephew, Timmy, to ask some questions and the government is here to answer.
The time before the blunt is a quiet, calm period. We all sit in a circle and watch in hushed awe as the roller works silently. Finally, the blunt goes around the room. Puff, puff, pass; puff, puff, pass; like an Olympic track team flawlessly relaying t
Christmas-themed articles usually fall into one of three categories: Santa's real, Santa's not real, or Jews suck. This year we're going for all three, if you can believe it.
If there is ever a zombie attack I think the staging ground or headquarters will be at a Home Depot. Just the other day I was told by a staff member doing his best impression of a deranged homeless person, randomly wandering around in a daze, that 'I don'
Four, short Thanksgiving comedy pieces from the PIC Staff on the spirit of giving by taking, a 9-year-old's account of Thanksgiving projectile vomiting, an American Thanksgiving in Canada, and fun facts on turkeys and Pilgrims.