Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Manny Pukeindrink
There are a number of ways to get Whitney’s attention at the bar.
This is one of them.
Hot Chicks With Douche Bags
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Hall of Mock
- Pfah
- DarkSock
- Baron Von Goolo
- Troy Tempest
- Steve L
- Wheezer
- Medusa Oblongata
- creature
- Crucial Head
- Mr. White
- Archidoucheis
- Mr. Biggs
- Vin Douchal
- Sergeant Scrote Stain
- boatbutter
- Captain Bringdown
- Whoop-di-douche
- Jacques Doucheteau
- massengill
- Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche
- Mr. Scrotato Head
- Deltus
- The Reverend Chad Kroeger
- mr.reeve
- Wedgie
- Et Tu Douche?
- Eliza Douchcoo
- dbBen
- soy bomb
- DoucheyWallnuts
- I R A Darth Aggie
- jonezy
- Hermit
- Chris in ‘Baghdad
- Douchble Helix
- the douche is alright
- Choad the Douche Sprocket
- Stephanie
- The Dude
- Dude McCrudeshoes
- Sir David Douchenborough
- Il Douché
- Bag A
- douche equis
- Capt. James T. Douche
- Charles Nelson Douchely
- THEONETRUEDOUCHE
- Merle Baggard
- ehcuodouche
- Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifelt
- Charles Douchewin
- FredN.
- Ol' Dirty Douchebag
- In memoriam: bcs
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This hot chick is HOTT!
This guy is DOUCHE!!
Perfect
Where’s my Louisville Fucking Slugger so I can Carlton Fisk his ass. Just like Toll Booth Willie.
Oh, Whitney. Those horizontal stripes are not helping.
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Manny Pukeindrink looks more like Manny Pukeinpurse. Whitney will have quite the surprise later tonight.
An awkward silence followed in the seconds after Tim’s “Freddie Mercury model RealDoll™” fell out of the closet with a loud clatter.
Whitney is all kinds of vague ethnicity hottness!!!! and her small perky breastessss are fantastic.
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Manny is Grade-A steaming dog shit.
As Whitney suckled her rat-penis sized Tic-Tac™ Manny fell victim to gaydreaming again.
Whitney remained unimpressed, even when presented with Manny’s rectal polyp neck tattoo.
An ugly scuffle ensued over who would fellate the world’s smallest mailbox.
I am envisioning my fist going through his mouth, smashing all his chiclets and then having it come out the back of his skull. Someone take a pic and send it to rotten.com
Manny’s gargoyle impressions are routinely met with less than the desired results
Manolo is that universal, burbing/farting drunk bag, whose friend encourage his behavior when they are out on the town so as to get a few laughs at the expense of people who are just trying unwind, meet a friend etc;. Baseball bat to the head worthy, very worthy as Anonymous has already alluded to.
The other would be to flash $100 bills in her face.
The other is to loudly and drunkenly belch “WAAAAZZZZZZZUUUUUUUPPPPP!” in her ear.
The toher is to take the bottle of Goose that you’re sitting on out of you ass and then fellate it like a $2 Tijuana whore.
One could only hope that whatever scissors he used to cut the sleeves off that Ratt t-shirt end up embedded in his nutsack.
*
Judging from her eyes, she just sat down on a barstool before they turned it rightside up. I think kindahott needs a good wheelbarrowing.
The other involves getting enough DNA from the glory hole to make another functioning chromosome so you can speak clearly.
Someone once told her that if she holds her wine glass like that it will make her look sophisticated. That someone was wrong.
Manny-Hind Peen-Roller
Manny grunted in disappointment as Tina ate the booger out of her Polish martini.
I’m with the Mandouchian Candidate…Whitnet needs a rollicking rogering!
Discolored tongues, blackened by bacteria and postmenopausal factory work spread to lips, mouth and pallet. Falsely attributed to lowered expectations and habitual hookah smoke. Swift, forceful brutality snaps the unfused neck vertebrae.
Puffed up like inflated scrotums, they bob on the surface of pond scum and DDT. Tiny eyes, burning with intensity, funeral fires of white-hot cigarettes, protrude from the tops of yellow skin and tennis shoes, facing east, towards the rising sun, reflecting the relentless, scorching heat. They go unnoticed until the belching vibrations fill the morning air. Spelling out certain doom and making room for the floating corpses now blocking footpaths and choking the slowing streams of bile.
Nuclear waste is parcelled out incrementally in soft drinks and snack cakes, sold by pajama -clad Pakistani death squads.
Knowing, loving eyes look on with delighted smiles.
I told myself I wasn’t going to drink tonight but Manny just angried up the blood to the point where only a long chat with John Jameson will soothe me.
Goodbye, Sober Day.
Right on Hermit!!!!, I’ve been having a go at trying to decipher your prose. I’ve been drawn to it’s dark, reflective and pensive mood, and my mindset of low these many past moons, is relating to it on a much stronger level as these post-halcyon days chug oh so slowly towards the absurd and the sweet embrace of isolation.
I’ld only do this douche if he sent me a peen pic first. And by do I mean rip his tongue out. And by peen pic I mean made eye contact with me. He appears too have a really stupid raspberry neck tatt as well.
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@Hermit, postmenopausal factory workers is the name of my new band.
Whitney carefully inserts the razor blade between her teeth, preparatory to the blow job she’s promised Manny in the parking lot.
^ My participles are dangling like Manny’s penis.
Is helping Whitney push her brain back in through her mouth another way to get her attention?
Whitney made the international sight of taste delight after sampling Mr. White’s Summer Pilsner, which features hints of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, dark chocolate-covered almonds from Trader Joe’s, and as always, asparagus.
if whitney’s shoulders and gunt provide any clue to our evolutionary future, we are becoming more and more like t-rex all the time, could this be how the dinosaurs evolved to extinction? could past be prelude once again?
if only there were some way to tell some future iteration of earth’s dominant species to drill for oil in ny/la.
Please let me punch that guy in the face!
Yes, baseball bat to the head worthy.
Such a Dildonic vibe.
“I told you I didn’t have any tonsils. See?”
Whitney is all kind of vaguely middle European HOTTness. She needs to lay off the cabbage rolls and do a few crunches though.
Hey, at least he hasn’t sent her a dic-pic (or is it a prickture?). Yet.
.
Son.
^Aw, c’mon Darth Aggie; who among us has not sent a picture of their junk to college girls?
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Of course, back in my day we did it with Polaroids.
“An awkward silence followed in the seconds after Tim’s “Freddie Mercury model RealDoll™” fell out of the closet with a loud clatter.”
I keep coming back to this because it makes me laugh so hard it brings to tears to my eye.
PLEEEEEEEEZE take my temperature… first under my tongue, then rectally…