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Everybody's got their dicks in a knot about Chinese bootleggers and how they're ruining our movies but I think they did a pretty good job with "Oh God!" Comments/Enlarge | See all


Stealing emergency life jackets from planes is the new joining the mile high club. It doesn't hurt anybody (err nobody survives when planes land on water) and you're less likely to be tazered by the cabin crew, mid-poke. Comments/Enlarge | See all






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Give the stains a couple of hours to set, then pop off the rubber bands (be careful they don’t snap and flick little hunks of filth into your face like ours did).

GROSS JAR - GROSS FASHION - PART 2

Bidding the Jar Adieu




While clearing out the Gross Jar’s layers of accumulated muck made us all a little misty, it did give us a chance to finally see our little buddy from the inside out and revisit all those special ingredients which went to make its vileness so magical and unique. Join us as we traipse down memory lane, checking in on our favorite deposits and seeing where they are today!

Raw chicken, facial scabbing, skim milk, flu spit, chicken blood, piss, and eggs: The inaugural load—these ingredients melted together pretty rapidly to form the base stew, even eating completely through an uncracked egg to welcome it into the mix. As our excavation neared the bottom though, we unearthed what we’re pretty sure was a small remnant of the chicken meat. Either that or some sort of stillborn ultra-amoeba.

Jizz: For all its staying power on old socks and towels, our ejaculate faded into the woodwork of the mother load in just a matter of days, adding only slightly to the Jar-brew’s increasingly gelatinous consistency.

Shit: Rounding out the basic excretions, this hearty little turdling set off the Jar’s transition from milky pink to rich, septic brown. Its contribution to the Jar’s tangy bouquet also resulted in our friend’s banishment from the office to its rooftop nest.

Rat: The biggest fear we faced in plunging our gloved fingers into the Jar’s murky depths was pulling them back out wedged inside the rib cage of a skeletal half-rat. Fortunately for our continued sanity, the digestive prowess of the sludge completely consumed every last trace of this little guy, right down to his little rat skull. You heard that right: The Jar disintegrated an entire rat, skeleton and all.

Used tampon: After bobbing daintily at the surface for a couple weeks secreting its womanly essence unto the brine, this generous donation from one of our staffer’s GFs settled to the bottom and swelled into a spongy clump of thread. It plopped out onto the rooftop while we were dunking one of the shirts with string intact, eliciting the bemusement and nausea of all parties present.

Vomit, baby pigeon, tapeworm, liver fluke, lamprey, and girl’s tooth: Entered at what we believe to be the peak of the Jar’s momentum, each of these deposits dissipated completely into the muck by the next round of additions.

Brewer’s yeast: We originally thought this payload was a failure for not blossoming into some kind of foamy garbage-monster, but looking back it was at this point that the Jar’s aeration first achieved the strength to break lose of the sealed lid. So maybe we owe it a little more credit.


And voilà. You’ve got a shirt completely unsuitable to be worn anywhere near other people or drinking water.


TO BE CONTINUED:
GROSS JAR | 1 | 2 | 3 | Next>


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