#1
And people say amazon's sellers aren't trying to rip you off...

http://www.amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/B00032G1S0/ref=dp_olp_new?ie=UTF8&condition=new

Apparently it has 1,102 reviews too... some of these are great lol

http://www.amazon.com/Tuscan-Whole-Milk-Gallon-128/product-reviews/B00032G1S0/ref=cm_cr_dp_all_summary?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1&sortBy=bySubmissionDateDescending

Quote by Some Reviewer
Wooed by promises of superhuman virility and riches beyond my wildest imaginings, I finally broke down, liquidating my IRA, and selling my favorite gerbil Winston in order to purchase some Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz. I could barely contain my tremors of excitement as I wired the Western Union money order. I must admit that over the ensuing days, my anxiety became nearly unbearable - sleep escaped me, and I could not concentrate at work. However, as the estimated delivery date approached, a strange calm overtook me. The realization that I would soon be bathing in the glory that is Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz. made the pettiness of life's minutiae fade away. I could no longer hear the prattling of my withered wife - she of the sagging breasts and endless headaches - and I smiled furtively at the knowledge that I would soon be free of her.

Days later, unable to restrain myself further, I marched into my supervisor's office, oblivious to his protestations, undid my belt, and proceeded to defecate all over his TPS reports. The look of horror on his face imbued me with emotions that few will ever know. Feeling triumphant, I strode past the rows of employees, who, slaves to their own fear stood gaping, and slapped the office secretary on my way out the door. When I arrived home, I informed my inadequate spouse that I had found a new mistress, and she would need to remove herself from my presence by the end of the week - the date of course coinciding with the arrival of the much-anticipated elixir. As I relaxed in the kitchen, my feet lightly resting on the table's cool laminate surface, I knew that this had been the best $2,500 I had ever spent.

Finally, the day arrived. The drab UPS employee, somehow immune to the package's awesomeness, blithely handed over the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz. I raced to the kitchen, suffering a slew of paper cuts in my haste to open the cardboard barrier. The liquid inside appeared slightly discolored - almost grayish in hue, but I quickly dismissed the observation as I could practically feel it's power pulsing through the attractive plastic container. I twisted the cap, unleashing a rush of air from the jug. I stumbled back, as I hadn't experienced an odor so rank since my wedding night. These signals would have given any sane man pause, but I was too invested, too hungry for salvation. I pressed the opening to my trembling lips, throwing back my head, and swallowing half of its contents in one go. The reaction was instantaneous.

The insufficiently-viscous mélange caused me to regurgitate harder than one of Hef's girlfriends after inhaling his pubic detritus in a Viagra-fueled crotch-gobbling session. The evil substance shot through my system like a tornado through a trailer park, prompting what I can only politely refer to as fecal urgency. A miasma of blood, pus, and bile began to leak from my eyes, ears, and nose. As I lay prone on the unforgiving linoleum floor, suffering indignities only Jimi Hendrix could understand, my wife passed through the kitchen, suitcase in hand. I knew in an instant that I deserved every ounce of the disgust manifested in her unsightly features. I am sprawled here now, awash in my own bodily fluids - unemployed...abandoned...too weak even to end my own suffering...broken in every way.


tl;dr: some dude writes epic story about milk

Quote by another reviewer
$2,500.00
+ $4.49 shipping Seller: rdicker

Why go to the store and buy a 2.99 gallon of Barber's milk when I can order it from RDICKER for $2,500?? Oh, plus the $4.49 for shipping. Can I also insure this order? Can I order more than one?


Quote by cool gal
He always brought home milk on Friday.

After a long hard week full of days he would burst through the door, his fatigue hidden behind a smile. There was an icy jug of Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz in his right hand. With his left hand he would grip my waist - I was always cooking dinner - and press the cold frostiness of the jug against my arm as he kissed my cheek. I would jump, mostly to gratify him after a time, and smile lovingly at him. He was a good man, a wonderful husband who always brought the milk on Friday, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.

Then there was that Friday, the terrible Friday that would ruin every Friday for the rest of my life. The door opened, but there was no bouyant greeting - no cold jug against the back of my arm. There was no Tuscan Whole Milk in his right hand, nor his left. There came no kiss. I watched as he sat down in a kitchen chair to remove his shoes. He wore no fatigue, but also no smile. I didn't speak, but turned back to the beans I had been stirring. I stirred until most of their little shrivelled skins floated to the surface of the cloudy water. Something was wrong, but it was vague wrongness that no amount of hard thought could give shape to.

Over dinner that night I casually inserted,"What happened to the milk?"
"Oh,"he smiled sheepishly, glancing aside,"I guess I forgot today."

That was when I knew. He was tired of this life with me, tired of bringing home the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. He was probably shoveling funds into a secret bank account, looking at apartments in town, casting furtive glances at cashiers and secretaries and waitresses. That's when I knew it was over. Some time later he moved in with a cashier from the Food Mart down the street. And me? Well, I've gone soy.


but yeah most of the other reviews sound like this.

discuss pit. and yes i searched.
Last edited by xstax981 at Aug 11, 2009,
#2
I think I've seen that. My favorite story is the one about the woman whose husband always brought home milk, but didn't one day. That signified the end of their relationship.
#3
ahh. this man amuses me.
i need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah.
#6
But does it come in bags?

EDIT: Well, shit.
Quote by Teh Forest King
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Last edited by Just Andrew at Aug 11, 2009,
#8
Screw it, I'm buying a cow
"Most people are trying to simplify the world. We're definitely here to complicate it." - Dad
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I you for posting this.

<-- Pretty much sums me up

8/7/09


^ I was there
#10
that review was as epic as the how to whammy with out a whammy video was sad
best YouTube video ever

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Like NCIS
#11
Quote by kxy1992
Screw it, I'm buying a cow

Your mother likes it ruff, Trebeck.
#12
well as long as it is a lot of milk...
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Fuck you I'm trying to be caring and shit


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Okay guys, I have a confession to make. Not really a confession since it's something that's been bugging me for awhile but I've always been in denial about it.

**** you gilly, it's not what you think
#14
Quote by Just Andrew
But does it come in bags?

EDIT: Well, shit.


Hilarious

As for the review:

"I could no longer hear the prattling of my withered wife - she of the sagging breasts and endless headaches - and I smiled furtively at the knowledge that I would soon be free of her."

#15
Hezekiah walked through the desert for many days and nights. And the sun was hot and he cursed it. And after much suffering he reached a river. And he looked down upon the river, and thirsted for a drink. Yet his lips were still, and above him flew a creature whose head was the color of sack cloth, with the wings of the mightiest eagle. And unto him it was said: Take this Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. and drink, and you shall receive sustinence. And he took the carton to his mouth, and drank. And his strength returned to him, and he was able to slay many goats for the feasting for all of his people. And with these goats was served more Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.

First Ezekiel, Chapter 14, Verses 6-10

Did you know the odds of a Vault-Tec shelter failing are 1,763,497 to 1?

So imagine life in a Vault-Tec Vault. Not just a future.
A brighter future... underground.

Patrolling the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter.
#16
I've read through so many of those. Some of them are the fucking funniest things I've ever read. Always good if you need a mood booster.
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Could be, but the most important thing to remember is that it wasn't your fault, even if it was.
#17

Once upon a mid-day sunny, while I savored Nuts 'N Honey,
With my Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gal, 128 fl. oz., I swore
As I went on with my lapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the icebox door.
'Bad condensor, that,' I muttered, 'vibrating the icebox door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Not to sound like a complainer, but, in an inept half-gainer,
I provoked my bowl to tip and spill its contents on the floor.
Stupefied, I came to muddle over that increasing puddle,
Burgeoning deluge of that which I at present do adore -
Snowy Tuscan wholesomeness exclusively produced offshore -
Purg'ed here for evermore.

And the pool so white and silky, filled me with a sense of milky
Ardor of the type fantastic of a loss not known before,
So that now, to still the throbbing of my heart, while gently sobbing,
I retreated, heading straightway for the tempting icebox door -
Heedless of that pitter-patter tapping at the icebox door -
I resolved to have some more.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'This,' said I, 'requires an extra dram of milk, my favorite pour.'
To the icebox I aspired, motivated to admire
How its avocado pigment complemented my decor.
Then I grasped its woodgrain handle - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams of Tuscans I had known before
But the light inside was broken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only words there spoken were my whispered words, 'No more!'
Coke and beer, some ketchup I set eyes on, and an apple core -
Merely this and nothing more.

Back toward the table turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

From the window came a stirring, then, with an incessant purring,
Inside stepped a kitten; mannerlessly did she me ignore.
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of lord or lady, withdrew to my dining floor -
Pounced upon the pool of Tuscan spreading o'er my dining floor -
Licked, and lapped, and supped some more.

Then this tiny cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grand enthusiasm of the countenance she wore,
Toward the mess she showed no pity, 'til I said, 'Well, hello, kitty!'
Sought she me with pretty eyes that seemed to open some rapport.
So I pleaded, 'Tell me, tell me what it is that you implore!'
Quoth the kitten, 'Get some more.'


Win
Quote by hostilekid
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Last edited by shadesofanger at Aug 11, 2009,
#19
Quote by Tire Me.
The more important question.

Is it bagged?
I still don't see what's so amusing about milk bags. I mean, Canada can't REALLY be the only country that sells milk in a bag, is it?
#20
is paris hilton is selling samples again?
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#23
Quote by Pat_s1t
I still don't see what's so amusing about milk bags. I mean, Canada can't REALLY be the only country that sells milk in a bag, is it?

What?! Canada sells milk in a bag???


bwhaahhahahaa!!

..but I shouldnt be so surprised, it is canada.
i need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah.
#24
Quote by The_Killa_Chris
im confused....isnt this just regular milk?


Regular milk? Hardly. This milk is the milk straight from the nipple of God.
#27
Quote by The_Killa_Chris
im confused....isnt this just regular milk?


It's not regular milk, it's Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz.
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Last edited by zappp : Today at 4:20 PM. Reason: Suck on my balls, UG
#28
I know what I want for christmas. And my birthday. Combined into one. every year.
I Want One!!!

The Kraftwerkers: The Society for the Appreciation of Kraftwerk
#29
*doesn't read any posts*

Only if its from the breasts of Megan Fox
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