Many a schoolyard fight was begun over this simple question. Which is the best Twix? Is it the sweet and crunchy “original” twix with caramel? Or is the “alternative” flavor, peanut butter, better?
While pondering that, explain how the following statement makes any sense, and don’t forget to take the quiz after the break!
Twix Tea Breaks (introduced around 1980s, UK). Single bars in between the size of a standard bar and a miniature bar (though having the same dimensions as a standard bar). Available loose in Twix bags from supermarkets. Re-named around 1990s. – from Wikipedia
In this weeks poll we find out which twins are the Hottest.
What does it mean to be the hottest? This woman has the looks and the bod, but she transcends even the high platform of beautiful. Her eyes are deep and her lips full. She’s voluptuous and curvaceous, a dangerous element but appealing nonetheless. She’s a veela in terms of her hypnotizing appearance but she maintains an air of whimsical innocence. She ages with grace and seems contemplative. She’s not the typical ideal beauty but jaws drop at the sight of her nonetheless. With the face of an angel and the body of a seductress, she makes even the toughest of men weaken at their knees.
Largebuck here. Out here in Montana they take bull riding and stuff real serious. In order to blend in with the natives, I decided I better attend to my inexperience with some much needed practice. After loading up the Land Rover with seagull jerky, and lacing several gallons of water with methamphetamine, I began searching for a ranch to practice my craft. I began the search the lands around the cabin, using a rigid grid pattern. But something in the peyote buttons I was chewing on reacted with the seagull meat or the meth, I am not sure which. In any case, my search grid took on a fractal dimension the second day. By day three I was just driving around willy nilly when I stumbled onto a whole dairy filled with bovine like creatures. I peered through my third eye to see more clearly, and they were in fact cattle! Elated, I began by earning the creatures trust. Leaving my .44 Magnum in the Land Rover, I stripped down to show them I was unarmed. At this point I proceeded into the field, unmolested by the hairy beasts, who for some reason seemed to be mildly anxious about my presence. Alas, I searched the nether regions of every single cow in the ranch and not a single one had cock or balls! In other words, no bulls, and no bull riding. I will have to find some other way to blend in here. But being on the dairy farm did bring up an interesting question that I beg our readers to explain. Please see the poll after the break…
PAO correspondent Largebuck here. I have relocated to a remote part of Montana after discovering a cache of liquor, drugs and weapons hidden under a ramshackle cabin by the late, great, Hunter S. Thompson. I was on assignment, tracking Sarah Palin, but fuck that bitch, there must be over 1000 ampules of amyl nitrate here. There isn’t a lick of food here, but I have been able to sustain myself primarily by killing things with the guns and ammo left behind by Thompson. My diet consists almost entirely of seagulls, which flock to the nearby junkyard. After eating one or two balls of hashish, and washing it down with a fifth of absinthe, I trek overland for about 4 miles to the dump. There are seagulls galore here, albeit the sea is almost 1000 miles away. The only sea around here is the sea of vomit I am creating from eating these wretched birds. Which makes me wonder. Why the fuck are these things called seagulls? What should they be called?