This week on Facebuzzed we visit Rex Goliath. Rex belongs to a cheap wine club home to the likes of Sutter Home, and Rex’s gargantuan rooster mascot gets its namesake from the legend of a 47-pound rooster allegedly displayed at a Texas circus.
Except Rex Goliath took it a step further and sent someone out in an over-sized rooster suit to sell its wares:
A slew of Facebook timeline photos reveals that Rex Goliath’s marketing team quickly seized on an astute observation: Rex rhymes with sex. For example, here‚Äôs a familiar predicament you may have encountered during your college days:
This one concerns me for two reasons. The first is the fact that we–hopefully–have our OWN rooms yet I‚Äôm being asked to leave the ENTIRE apartment. The second has to do with the fact that this might go beyond alcoholism and more into the realm of clandestine pipe bomb construction. Either way that‚Äôs going to be one hell of an intervention.
You know‚Ä¶considering you don‚Äôt die in an explosion before you get a chance to plan one.
Their play on words got decidedly racier with the next image:
I‚Äôm not speaking from personal experience but I was under the impression that discretion is usually the name of the game when it comes to prostitution. He would‚Äôve drawn less attention in a pair of booty shorts and a mesh YOLO T-shirt.
Finally Rex Goliath engaged us in a game of ‚ÄúWould you rather‚Äù by asking us who we‚Äôd spend our night with out of the two creatures below:
Hypothetically, this could get intensely competitive. Then I would be the one to ruin it and yell ‚ÄúHey! One of you is the descendant of the other!‚Äù Then their eyes would soften and they would run to embrace.
Then the T-Rex would eat Angie. Way to pick the only one that could eat you, Angie.