Also known as “free sample basket cruising”. A versatile, multi-course option for the cheapo on the go.
“I smoke my friends down to the filter”–Tom Waits.
That’s not the sidewalk at Hachiko, that’s like if a cigarette vending machine exploded and scattered free smokes everywhere but nobody noticed except for you. Carpe cigarette, friends.
Word on the street is that English language schools are outsourcing teaching jobs to public trash cans.
OK, imagine you lost the remote and your very extended family is visiting and you’ve installed an indoor driving track and have been looking forward all week to these end-to-end looped ads for Madagascar 3 and a four-speed head massager, and then it’ll be just like you’re watching TV at home.
Olympic-sized swimming pool
The emperor won’t mind, she said, moments before springing a cheapo-repelling booby trap in the Imperial Moat.
A crippling inability to say “no” means that I’ve accumulated enough free tissue packs to furnish a tissue museum. Or to become tissue benefactress to three medium-sized orphanages.
Standing room only, balcony space available. Train accessibility: optimal.
The tacit rivalry between the people handing out tissues and those distributing hand fans often reaches a violent midsummer showdown over the question, will wiping the sweat or will fanning at it more effectively enhance the illusion of lowering my core temperature? Cheapos are just happy to get both for free.
Apparently some people purchase their books before reading, but you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.
Nothing rivals the human touch like the pummeling action of a massage chair on the fourth floor of a crowded department store. When are they gonna start making these with soothing voice tracks that whisper things like, “Your calves look so good in these plush leg clamps”?