Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Too Tight Tony Runs With the Goose
There are many things rotten in the proverbial “Denmark” that is our collective Jungian unconscious.
Deep seeded anger issues against the constraints of modern discourse.
Desire and denials to touch boobies in high school.
And then there’s Pud Joe, aka Too Tight Tony.
Who sucks on a fully conscious level.
And does not require complex analytical mapping to discuss the suckitude.
Rachel and her Besties giggle like waterfalls and like to pop popcorn and watch “House.”
Hott on the left thinks it’s funny when the writers of “House” make up words, like “spleen” and “lupus.” But I forgive her. Because when she’s giggling at “gallbladder,” it allows me to move my hand from stripe n to stripe (n – 1) on her skirt.*
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*I’ve decided that the topmost stripe is stripe 0 and that they increase in number as you move down her legs. Designating the bottom stripe as 0 with stripe number increasing toward her waist would be an equally valid reference system.
Rachel and her Besties are starting to smile because the bottle is almost empty-
They have a clear- Dump the Douche when the Goose is Gone- policy.
I’m not even going to acknowledge the douche, for in my mind he is the equivalent of Muzac, which I equate with cramped elevators, the dentist chair and stuffy department stores. I will instead shift my attention to Morgan Freeman in the background who is on the set of “Shawshank Redemption 2: The Return of Disco”. I heard it has Mariah Carey in it too so it should be pretty good.
Too tight is hard, hard like the little shit balls that come out of my westie.
A text book example of Hott Chicks w Douchebag. Rachel and her Besties having temporarily succumbed to the darkside deserve better and warrant a second chance. TTT’s tude and sneer is most trashcan to the face worthy.
Blondie in the back is touching herself ever so lightly. mmmm
Rachel and “blonde in the back” Bestie define deliciousness. Tony is best defined by a petrified dog turd I finally hit with the mower yesterday… Tony’s smugness shall meet the same fate.
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Hot chicks, Douchebag = perfect mix of Yummy’s and Dummy.
Props to Claire in the middle, who just can’t seem to keep her hands off her new boobs. Who can blame you Claire. From what we can see of them they look mighty fine. I should warn you though, at some point in the evening, as you’re carressing your ripe tomato, Tony is going to interpret it as an invitation to drag you into the men’s room, whip out his root, and then start shouting at you that it’s your fault he can’t get it up. When in reality we all know its the hair dye and ‘roids that’s killed his cockk. Won’t save you from a punch in the eye, not when Tony’s riding the Goose.
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Hmmm. Maybe you should save yourself all that trouble and let us massage your new cans instead.
Besties give me a boner.
T cubed deserves a hammer massage for his face.
@Boner, how can a boner get a boner? Please tell me its like a play within a play.
Just out of frame is the horse’s upturned ass, with the AstroGlide-dripping Goose bottle hovering above it like the ButtPlug of Damocles.
^the horse is wearing plaid…
May the Lord of Southern Fried Rock knock him down like a diabetic stroke on Danny Joe Brown. Like on airplane on Ronnie Van Zandt. Like Duane Allman on a motorcycle. Like fur on a ZZ Top guitar. Smote him with lynard skynards, go all 38 special on his ass, and chop him down with
The doctor wouldn’t give him oxycodone after he saw the shrinken man bits, so Tony stole his sister’s bottle of goose to numb the pain of his quickly migrating kidney stone.
The beauty in the foreground is my new hero. Why? Well, she remembered to bring one of these with her that night, saving humanity from any future TTT’s. She even had the balls to do it after he ordered bottle service. (See what I did there?)
Oh Claire in the middle, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
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Well, I guess there’s just the one way. But my crotch-lust is pure, I swear!
Tony kind of looks like Bruce LaBruce, only way gayer.
I want to have an awkward first date with Claire in the middle where I give up trying to not look at her chest while she prattles on about dental hygienist school.
Stripey on left shows a courteous restraint in her ever so slight lean back away from douche-move. Middle blonde’s ta-tas of globular goodness rule.
That sneer is of a man so far gone into douche that his own DNA is rebelling in convulsions against him.
I don’t understand the douches’ love affairs with the Goose. Belvedere is a real man’s drink.
Looks as if he’s taking a shiit on the floor.
This clown doesn’t realize it, but everybody rips on him behind his back. Including his disappointed parents.
Rachel and her Besties like to pop bubble-wrap just for the hell of it.
And Too Tight Tony. They pop him too.