You know what really frightens me about this image? It doesn't startle me in a "holy shit, that girl has a dick" kind of way or even scare me in a "holy shit, that girl with a dick wants to use it on me!" kind of way. Oh no, what I'm talking about is much more bone-chilling than either of those scenarios.
What really frightens me about the above image is that bipedal ball bag surrounded by baguettes is the kind of guy that gets put in a position of power when he gets older. What kind of position you ask? Does it matter? The kind of position should be of zero importance to you; what should be of major fucking importance is the fact that you are probably taking orders from his kind on a daily basis.
Whether you're a cop, a paralegal, a truck driver or the mumbling knuckle-dragger responsible for stocking the shelves at Walmart -- or is it Wal-Mart? -- you are all, in all likelihood and in your own special way, being told what to do by someone who wore skin-tight t-shirts and ended all his sentences with "bro" all throughout his high school and college days.
Sleep tight.
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