Which One Of My Garbage Sons Are You?

Posted Nov. 20, 2014

I’ve got some shit boys. My huge beautiful wife gave me children who think and speak like the toilet. I have four garbage sons: The first son is named Royce, the second son is named Preston, the third son is named Lance And Blake (two names for just one son), and the fourth son is the dreaded Laramie. Which one of my toxic sons are you? Take this quiz to find out!

  1. 1. Which of these garbage things have you done?
  2. 2. What did you get your nice dad for his worst, most recent birthday?
  3. 3. My garbage sons love to steal my credit card and buy bad things. What do you buy when you steal your nice dad’s credit card?
  4. 4. My gutter sons have sewer mouths that belch out true terrors. The words they say make me wish the world had exploded before I was born. Which of these toxic things do you say the most?
  5. 5. One time, all my garbage sons got together to build an enormous marble statue of me weeping in the front seat of my wonderful car. The base of the statue had the inscription “I Don’t Cry. I Saab.” My gutter boys built the statue right in front of the town hall where everyone in the town could see it. Now, all the children in the neighborhood laugh at me and call me “The Cry Person.”

    Have you ever done this to me?
  • Results for Which One Of My Garbage Sons Are You?

    You Are Royce.

    The bad news is that you are my garbage son Royce. You are the Gutter Boy Supreme, and the things you say and do are of the Dumpster. You love to do terrible things to my wonderful car, and you are the main reason why I go to the hospital.

    When my huge beautiful wife did the birth of Royce, I thought to myself, “This can’t be that bad,” but boy, was I wrong, because Royce has a rancid soul and everything he touches turns to poison.
  • Results for Which One Of My Garbage Sons Are You?

    You Are Preston.

    Hate to break it to you, but you are my garbage son named Preston. You are the son equivalent of a foul wind and you make my nights colder. When I see you in my house, I think to myself, “Here is my Dumpster boy, the one I hate.” Your interests include faking injuries and doing terrible things to my wonderful car.

    When my huge beautiful wife did the birth of Preston, I didn’t think things could get any worse, but I underestimated the garbage soul of Preston, and every day is a new carnival of miseries. Truly, Preston is the Gutter Prince and knowing about him makes me tired. That’s who you are. You’re my garbage son Preston.
  • Results for Which One Of My Garbage Sons Are You?

    You Are Lance And Blake.

    It makes me miserable to inform you that you are my garbage son Lance And Blake (two names for just one son). You are a real trash mountain of a son who came marching out of my huge beautiful wife on the worst day to ever happen. Your hobbies include loitering, mischief with bones, and doing terrible things to my wonderful car.

    When Lance And Blake was born, I wanted to name him Ryan and my huge beautiful wife wanted to name him Kyle, so we compromised by giving him two names that neither of us liked. Now, he makes our days sour and our nights rancid. He is a True Nightmare of a garbage son.
  • Results for Which One Of My Garbage Sons Are You?

    You Are The Dreaded Laramie.

    Terrible tidings for you: You are the dreaded Laramie. You are a junk son if I’ve ever seen one—a true dump child from the swamp. Everyone who knows you fears you because they are aware that you make life sour. Your interests include loud crimes with minimal jail sentences, making nighttime last longer, and watching movies where someone who looks like your nice dad explodes or gets killed by a mummy. You love doing terrible things to my wonderful car and you wear shirts with curse words on them.

    I hate being near the dreaded Laramie. When the dreaded Laramie comes around, I whisper a quiet wish to God that a lunatic will come and eat me. I can’t believe that my huge beautiful wife did the birth of the dreaded Laramie. Truly, he hails from the Dumpster, and I only wish him ill. That’s who you are. You’re the dreaded Laramie. Way to go.

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