Thursday, October 14, 2010
The Gator Transcends
Douchebag Emeritus, The Gator, does not need no hot chick anymore.
For The Gator now transcends mere HCwDB douchebaggery.
The Gator is a force beyond pumped up artifice, societal talking-point or human winkydink. The Gator is an H.R. Giger inspired abstract alienation of corporeal landscape.
But since this toxic singularity is too much to witness for even the most experienced ‘bag hunter, have some surf pear.
someone slather this crustacean with garlic butter and let plinky’s mom have at it
arrrrrrrrrgh, two pears beats a full deckhand any day now!
The only thing that’s going to transcend is my breakfast from my stomache if I look at that monstrosity for too long. For the love of all that is holy throw a midget riding a Dalmation in there for some balance.
Looks like he’s got a good case of Karposi’s Sarcoma on the side of his neck there. Wonder what that means.
And goddamn, it’s too early in the morning for this, DB1. That pic is honestly scary.
It’s a good thing I keep an emergency bottle of Maker’s Mark in the bottom drawer of my desk. And a glock.
.
So long cruel world.
It’s a good thing I didn’t eat anything yet, otherwise I would have made a mess of my keyboard. The dry heaves don’t require any clean-up.
Thank you, oh thank you for the surf pear! Upon viewing this photo I started to gag so wildy and violently that my small intestine became lodged in my throat. It was horrible, I couldn’t breathe, I just knew I was going to die with the Gator as the last thing in my field of view. I tried to give myself the heimlich manuver on the back of my desk chair, but to no avail. I then saw the light! Surf pear link! I clicked and fwapped myself until the intestine was dislodged. You saved my life boss, thank you. Fuck Gator.
The question is: where does gator go from here?
I mean, he’s obviously worked extremely hard for this photo op., but after the massive ‘roid intake, ponying-up the simoleons for the photographer and techhead to create his slide show, is it back to washing dishes for Gator?
So lifelike. Ask any RealDoll(tm) dealer how you can get one.
The vacant look on his mug is now permanent. No brain activity left. But to his credit, he went on the ventilator registering negative on the body fat index. John Largeman orders a second appetizer of buffalo wings in celebration.
I don’t give a shit about this guy except,….
.
If this motherfucker is unemployed, collecting a check and hitting the gym 6 hours a day …….
Even though the double surf pear has been here before, we definitely needed the repeat view after that shot of Gator.
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I think I need to review all the pear shots now to wipe the view of Gator off my retinas (retinae?)…..
Gator’s hydrophobia shows that he is indeed rabid and determined to play the lead role in an upcoming M. Night Shamalan prequel “The Machinist: Red Gator.”
OK, I get that he has 0% body fat…but WTF is he doing with his neck? Looks like a good place to start chopping the old hatchet.
I say we lift off and nuke it from orbit.
It’s the only way to be sure.
He looks like he has been hypnotised, petrified, and burned to terrify little children this spooky season in someone’s House of Fright. Where’s the Baron been?
Madame Tusaud’s Axe Museum?
Coming to theaters Christmas 2011….Gator is….
Simple Jack
He no longer has any meaning or value. He has turned into a critique of himself in his own language. Think of it this way:
.
Take a mirror. cover the face of it with transparent superglue.
Then take another IDENTICAL mirror and press the face of that mirror onto the glue.
.
Result? Endless implosive reflection of darkness. Worse than death. Worse than Kittlerian recursion. Worse than the trivial winking and irony of postmodernism. A complete implosion of monumental narcissism that sucks up everything around him in a vortex of ignorance and selfishness.
.
Truly, these are the last days.
fuck….I dont think you can even kill that with fire…
I think the tattoo on his right bicep was intended to mean: “number 1”. However, after a debacle like this I think everyone should take it to mean: “No one”…
I would body-surf through eighteen miles of toxic Hungarian sludge, if allowed to discreetly sniff the bikini wax scrapings left on the surf pear’s bathroom floor.
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(thirty-six miles for both of ’em.)
Nice to see the ol’ Gator finally found a job…
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…at the local Halloween Haunted House.
@Capt. Lame:
Oh he’s Number 1 alright. He’s number 1 on my list of Things to Expound From My Memory At All Costs. No 2 on my list, you didn’t ask? Those Shake Weight Infommercials.
Whether or not they’re bleethy, for those of you with Facebook accounts, this short video may also help to erase the stain of Gator’s latest appearance.
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Boobies.
I didn’t know they had digital cameras in hell.
@Fatness, 10:34 a.m. –
.
I think that would be too much even for our broheim, Baron Von Goolo, and his shop of horrors, “FrightTown.”
.
(Gotta help a fellow ‘baghunter, ya know.)
Is he trying to poop?
After buying that town in Bulgaria it seems from his neck that he’s coming down with the bubonic plague. It all could have been avoided if he would have quit injecting himself with rat testosterone.
I suspect this isn’t a recent shot. In that last vid we saw, where he was terrorizing some Bulgarian village, dude looked rough. I say this pic is a good 5-10 years old.
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Not that that makes it any better. Just sayin’, the dude’s skin must have the consistency of a shrunken head by now.
The Gator watches. The Gator knows!
Hall of Scrote for his use of anabolics, as well. Where Pumpy bulked up and left town tits up, Gator has drawn the line well-short of total organ failure and adopted a sensible regimen of pharmaceutical assistance.
His expression looks like:
.
He’s trying to figure out a 15% tip on a $20 check
or
He’s finally gotten to the end of Plinky’s Mom’s vajayjay.
.
Either way 100 yard blank stare just doesn’t cover it.
E.T. phone home
He looks like a shaved chimp seeing it’s own reflection for the first time.
Wow, his veins look like if you stuck a pin in him, the explosion would knock you through the wall.
mmmm surf pear. I would wax those boards. And after doing that I would like to have sex with those two women.
Looks like Francis Dolarhyde’s transformation into Red Dragon is complete.
“The question is: where does gator go from here?”
Please, for the love of what’s not douchey don’t go there. Right now Gator looks like something that’s rising from the toxic sludge in Hungary.
He has proved the medical and anthropologic communities wrong.
He has been able cause his body to produce a viable exoskeleton.
However, significantly diminished brain wave activity (averaging 60 percent) is an expected, but hardly tragic, side effect.
Crab boil!
He may be The Gator, but his neck tells us he’s really a bayou turtle, AKA a cooter.
Oh, pfffft. That’s not Gator. That’s a trilobite.
Someone help this man. Things must have gone downhill. The Bulgaria land deal has fallen through, http://www.scottalexander.tv/ has no content to speak of and now this.
May this transmogrification have a happy ending in a buddhist monastery.
every douchebag is capable of some form of douchebaggery, barbaggery, hipsterbaggery, or what have you.
but Gatorbaggery is something that only the Gator is capable of.
Gatorbaggery. like no other.
Oh god my eyes!
You’d think a poser would have better posture.
I believe Gator (along with other known offenders) was featured in this weeks’ episode of South Park as one of the news casters.
At first glance (after a peroxide eye wash), I had to check the HoS to make sure it’s Gator. Not his usual full frontal assbaggery. Sure ’nuff.
Am I the only one disappointed Gator decided to go GSR? An epic bag of his accomplishments should be above douchetrendery, no?
Just gross,was this pic taken from a Playgirl centerfold or what?
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot…his neck’s going full-on Johnny Cab!
The only thing that will transcend my breakfast in my stomach if I look at this eyesore for too long. For the love of all that is holy throw a dwarf riding a Dalmatian here for a certain balance.
@Stephanie: you don’t understand much