All these modern dating apps are too focused on finding the “right person” with “similar interests” this and “common life-goals” that, when what a man really wants more than anything is just to quickly and easily locate whichever girl in her group is over the legal blood alcohol level, missing a shoe, and hysterically sobbing by 8PM. You’ve seen her, the one whose friends hide her from the bride-to-be while arguing about whether to make her drink some water, call her a cab, or just speed off in the party bus while she’s in the restroom puking up Jell-O shots by sticking a penis-shaped straw down her throat. BPT is a free service determined to find you true love by employing thousands of field agents who will call you from a pay-phone when they spot a probable target/soulmate in your area. This is a win-win, because the lady in question will finally get a strange man hitting on her who’s there for the right reason—ROMANCE—not some fella who already happened to be at the bar to watch a throw-ball game or get drunk with some tie-guys from work. BPT also give money to the rainforest, I think.
Toilet paper is a luxury that low-income families simply cannot afford, and with travel between the continental USA and Australia taking fourteen hours, who has time to shop for a real Sydney bidet? These big-hearted Aussies donate state-of-the-art units to qualifying households, which are perfect for washing the genitalia, perineum, inner buttocks, and anus of the human body. Throw another poop on the Barbie!
With so much sympathy being given only to the bullied, the bullies themselves are often left out in the cold. Anti-bulling awareness focuses on improving the lives of dorky victims, meanwhile, cool, bigger kids are publicly shamed, admonished by teachers, and in some extreme cases, even given after-school detentions. BBs provides new education for meanies, including innovations in noogie techniques, remaining anonymous during social media attacks, avoiding consequences, and the best angle for knocking someone’s books out of their hands on the stairs. Because without bad-ass bullies picking on little pipsqueaks, who would we know to feel sorry for?