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Facebuzzed Vol. 10 – Rex Goliath

Facebuzzed Vol. 10 – Rex Goliath

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:

Nevermind that. How the hell did you get in my apartment? Why do we even have a doorman down there?

I’ll drink whatever is in the brown bag of that apartment building’s doorman since he was drunk enough to let in someone wearing a rooster suit.

 

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:

rexiled

 

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…considering you don’t die in an explosion before you get a chance to plan one.

Their play on words got decidedly racier with the next image:

paying for rex

Except when you’re trying to pay an undercover cop on a sting operation.

 

I’m 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’ve drawn less attention in a pair of booty shorts and a mesh YOLO T-shirt.

Or he could just approach him looking like this, since everyone who meets him somehow doesn’t know they’re looking at a f&*king chicken (Seriously Animaniacs. I would watch three Buttons & Mindy shorts in a row before I watch another Chicken Boo).

Or he could just approach him looking like this, since everyone who meets him somehow doesn‚Äôt know it’s a f&*king chicken they’re looking at (Seriously Animaniacs. I would watch three Buttons & Mindy shorts in a row before I watch another Chicken Boo).

 

Finally Rex Goliath engaged us in a game of “Would you rather” by asking us who we’d spend our night with out of the two creatures below:

would you rather II

 

Hypothetically, this could get intensely competitive. Then I would be the one to ruin it and yell “Hey! One of you is the descendant of the other!” 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.

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