Doubleplunked Mug
Getting doubleplunked only stems from getting kerplunked earlier that day or the previous time you used the over-full porta-potty. The difference being that the initial kerplunked shituation stems from hovering the seat to put distance between your ass and the loaf you pinch into the blue abyss of human excrement. Resulting in a Newtons Law backsplash, that was feared most, right up on your moneyshot spot-which is only intensified during the winter season. Resulting in a therapy induced post dramatic stress shituation. So when the need to pinch another loaf arises, you are most assured that i'snot going to happen again! Consequently when you do pinch that loaf the next time, you're standing with one foot on each side of the toilet seat, that loaf drops with more speed and force than you thought possible creating a "doubleplunk" that backplasters the public bodily waste jackpacking your crack. Causing oneself to immediately clench your fists screaming an expletive at the top of your lungs, because hell hath no fury like someone who just got doubleplunked.
The Urban Dictionary Mug
The snarky message on the mug always gets big laughs from guests so I'm now using it as my go-to bourbon glass
Love the coffee mug. Would have been nice to see who had the word accepted into Urban Dictionary printed on the bottom of the mug. As I was the one. "Dusty Dawg" Other than that I love.
fuck ur mugs i want one for free
This mug, much like a cursed relic unearthed from the depths of despair, embodies a cacophony of design flaws and manufacturing mishaps that make one wonder if it was birthed from the darkest corners of incompetence itself. From its deceptively promising exterior, which boasts a color scheme akin to a bruised banana left out in the sun for too long, to its handle that feels more like a medieval torture device designed to punish the unsuspecting hand that dares to grasp it, every aspect of this mug screams "regret." Its material, a sinister amalgamation of recycled nightmares and shattered dreams, leeches a flavor reminiscent of stale coffee mixed with the tears of disappointed souls into whatever liquid unfortunate enough to be poured within its cursed confines. The rim, jagged and uneven like the edge of a poorly forged blade, guarantees that each sip is a perilous journey fraught with the risk of lip lacerations and existential dread. And let us not forget the bottom of this vessel, where the manufacturer's logo is stamped with all the subtlety of a scarlet letter, branding the user as a victim of their own poor purchasing decisions for all eternity. Indeed, this mug serves as a stark reminder that sometimes, in the vast expanse of consumer goods, there exists a dark abyss where quality and utility fear to tread, leaving only disappointment and regret in their wake.
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