Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Mack the Nozzle: Still Nozzling
2009 HCwDB of the Year Finalist and heaping serving of prime-time douchebaggery, Mack the Nozzle, is still out there.
Still with job-killing facial tatts.
Happily, The Mack is no longer posing with the gorgeous and transcendant Francine. Ode to Francine by Vin Douchal sums it up.
Methinks it’s time to induct The Nozzle into our hallowed Hall of Scrote. Clearly one of the most epic runs of douchebaggery in presence of hot chicks we’ve seen in the history of the site. When I get off my ass to do some HTML’n around here, I’ll toss his sorry ass into where it belongs.
Vin’s voice sounding a wee bit like Iggy Pop…
…Bravo!
Blonde on the right comes prepared to this party with her own hula-print. Hopefully those Swee-Beaddies swing free on alternate seedy places on the web…
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Mack the Nozzle has nearly completed his descent into the 5th circle of douche Hades…flanked here by ‘Hott’ Satanic imps
Oh Francine. You got away just in time. He’s really gone down hill since you left. He needs two new bleeths to replace you. That’s some awesome bleeth power.
brunette tore her mini-dress up from a haggard piece o’carpet in the corner
Boss, looks like you could use some help around the office. How much do you pay and I will html the shit outta this guy? I have no experience but I like my javascript black and my cookies virus free.
Mack the Nozzle. Must still be Fighitng because clearly he hasn’t Died yet..
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Ah, Francine. I would rend my flesh raw on a urine coated cheese grater whilst stomping Rocky Mountain Oysters in a vat full of powdered glass and diced Bhut Jolokia peppers and then drinking the nutty flavored wine while simultaneously bitch slapping the exhumed and headless remains of the Solntsevskaya Bratva’s ancestors with my penis as thoughts of you tongue punching Medusa’s joybuzzer fill my heads, just for the chance to knit a banana hammock out of your used tampon strings.
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And I mean that in a purely stalker-fwap-fwap-fwap-fwap way.
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Call me.
So I’m assuming the average hott to be about 5′ 5′ tall and a standard stair height of 6′ which would seemingly make Mack here about 5′ 1″ (accounting for the hotts being near should high)? Dickface needs a booster seat Boss if he’s gonna be enshrined.
@ Scrotato
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If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were in love with Francine or something.
Francine makes me feel tingly and ashamed in my old naughty bits in the same way as the underaged Hayden Panetierre. Have I really been hanging around here for so long that I remember these faces? Have I ever logged out? Did I feed my dog every morning? Did I really see a person named Nicky Minaj on TV slutting up the world with her purple drinks?
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Yes. Yes I have
Francine is one tasty morsel. At one point I found her on myspace.com and tried to befriend her. She had no time for VD. If only I could wax as poetic as Mr Scrotato Head I may have had a chance….
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Mack looks a little out of shape. Has our favorite Welterweight become a Light-Heavy?
Bad link boss. Here’s my love song to Francine for the uninitiated (self promotion rocks)
mack has the mark of the retard on his mug and leopard girl needs to work on those somali skinny legs! all in all some poo has been flung!
No arguments here.
Francine Reloaded, by Mr. Scrotato Head
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October 18th: Hey mom, got your message. No, can’t come over tonight. I’m going out with the girls. Maybe next weekend. And no, I haven’t sold any purses lately. And no, I don’t need a “normal” job. That’s for “normal” people so please, stop riding me about that.
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October 18th: Heeeeeeeey! Is this MACK? MAAACK! Shh! Shhh! I’m, f*ck! Shhh! I’m leaving a message! MAAACK! Do…Do…Ahahahahahahaha! Do you miiiiiiiiiisssss me?! You dumb f*ck! I…I…I…I f*cking hate you youuuuu loser! Won any fights lately? HAHAHAHAHA! Shhhh! Shhhh! F*ck!
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October 18th: Yeah. Ummm. I, umm, so when are you going to call me? I…I miss…it’s just…oh f*ck. Never mind.
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October 27th: Hey mom. Hey, did you get a chance to talk to the ladies at your office about my purses? You know I can’t hold on to them forever. Once I get the deal with Bloomies I won’t be able to sell them on my own so, you know, let me know if they’re interested.
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December 7th: Stripping? Stripping?!?!?! Jesus, mom, NO! You think I’m stripping? Tell your ‘friend’ he’s a f*cking liar and a f*cking perv for hanging out in strip clubs. I’m not a f*cking stripper! God, mom.
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December 20th: Hi mom! Of course I’m coming over for Christmas, why wouldn’t I? I’ll be there around three, just let me know what I need to bring. Oh, and can you have dad give me a call? Nothing big, Bloomies just fell through and, you know, I just wanted to talk to dad about some, I don’t know, some options.
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December 23rd: Can’t talk much. I’m not coming over for Christmas. Sorry, but I’m crushed with a buncha shit. Oh, I don’t know, shit like keeping my apartment. And tell dad thanks, thanks for f*cking nothing.
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December 31st: Heey! Heeey moooooom! Guessh….guesssh what I’m doing! What..what…I’m doing right now! I’m stripping! Hahahahahaha! Shhh! F*ck Linz’y, shutthef*ckup! That’s right mooooom! Yer little girl is flashing her clam for Benjamins. And I’m loooooving it. Ha-Happy F*cking Neeeewyear Bitch!
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January 4th: Mom, I’m fine. Really I’m fine. Just forget about that call the other night. I was drunk. Seriously drunk. And no, I’m not a stripper. But, ummm, but I could use some cash. My business isn’t really turning out like I expected. Call me, okay?
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January 26th: Look, Phil. I had a good time too the other night. Seriously, a great time. You’re a nice guy. And very generous which is so cool and everything. But I don’t date customers. So stop calling okay? And nothing on my Facebook or seriously, I’ll do more than block you.
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February 11th: Hi mom. Tell dad thanks but no thanks. I don’t need his help anymore. Things are getting better. I’ve got a new roommate, she’s pretty cool, and she’s helping me get, ummm, my business going.
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February 23rd: Mack, I swear to f*cking god, I seriously swear to f*cking god, you cannot tell anyone. You got that? Nobody! Do you know what it would f*cking do to me? Jesus Christ! Sob! What the f*ck were you f*cking doing in there anyways? ohmygod.
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February 23rd: Ummm. Hi. It’s me. Francine. Shit, that sounds so stupid. I. I just. God, retarded. I. Anyway. Hi.
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February 25th: Mom? What?!? Slow down mom! What? WHAT?! Pictures?! What pic- OH SHIT! No mom! NO! No! I am not a whore! Christ mom! It’s a job! A f*cking job, mom! Because I can’t do anything else that’s why!!
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to be continued
Whoops, sorry Vin, fixed the link.
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– management
“I hope you don’t have a cock betweens your legs.”
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Truer love songs have never been written.
Crucial Head sighting ^. Maybe Pfah’s next? Plinky?
Crucial’s bosses must be out for sushi and they’ve left him to mind the store.
This toothbrush head again! Blond bleeth on right isn’t a patch on Francine, although I do wish she’d put a patch over those deeply unattractive, incredibly boring tatts. Also, bleeth on left appears to be the type who assumes animal print clothing is “like, really sexy!!!!”
Yawn, skankola, maybe it is in Bumfuckville, Hicksonia, though unsurprisingly I’ve never felt the need to confirm these suspicions.
Yeah, toss his ass in the HoS, but please include the first appearance as “Archie McScrote.” I just love that name, but it should come with a caveat that he’s not Droopy McScrote’s brother.
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Of course, all choadwanks are “bros,” aren’t they? Just not biologically…..unless, of course, ‘roids and tanning cream serve to mutate one’s genetic code in such a manner? And I got to show everyone Surfer Kelly one more time. Mmmmmm…..Surfer Kelly…..
Francine Reloaded, Part II By M. Scrotato Head
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March 2nd: Mom. Its me. Look. I’m sorry. What do you want from me? It’s a job. There’s nothing else out there. You want me to work at Appleby’s? I don’t think so. And yes, I’m being careful. And no, I’m not moving home. I can take care of myself. No I’m not on drugs! And I don’t need protecti – I’m not a whore!
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April 17th: Yes, I’m selling my car, mom. And so nice to see you finally figured out the internet. Let me know if you see any more pictures of me, okay? Like I’m sure you won’t.
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My 10th: Hey mom! Happy birthday. 39 and holding, right? Hahaha. I hope you like the purse. I held on to that one for you. Anyhow. Um. Can you tell dad thanks for me? I’m hoping to have a new roommate this week. Maybe one who won’t steal from me.
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May 14th: Mack you f*cking pig! God I f*cking hate you. F*cking die you prick! Haven’t you done enough? Just f*cking leave me alone. Can’t you find some other place to go? Please. Just leave me alone and let me do my job.
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May 14th: Hi. I’m a pest. I know. It’s just. Why- Why won’t you call me back?
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My 22nd: Hey Phil. Aren’t you persistent? I like that. How about you double it?
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June 23rd: Thanks for calling mom. Sorry but I’ve just been so busy I’m seriously never at home. Maybe we can have lunch some time or…Okay! I’m coming! Gotta go mom, love you.
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July 11th: More pictures? Well, mom, what do you want me to say? It’s paying the bills. No, it’s more than paying the bills. And no I haven’t lost a bunch of weight. Christ, usually you worry about me getting fat. Bye.
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August 9th: Phil. Seriously, you’re going to get all upset about me asking for more? Seriously? After all I do for you. Think about it hon. What would you do without me?
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August 27th: So. Sniff! Seriously Ppppphil. Sniff! You f*cking owe me you know you f*cking owe me you f*cking twisted shitf*ckcocksuckingc*ntlick. Sniff sniff! I’m sorry. I’m sorry sorry sorry sorry. Sor – ry. F*ck me, I’m sorry. It’s. It’s. It’s f*ck you know. Shit. F*ck. Half. How ‘bout half? That’s good right half you know I’m worth it. What ever you want baby. Anything. Anything. Anything. Anything. Come on Phil. Sniff.
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September 6th: Mom? Mom. Ummm. Can you come get me? I’m. God, I’m down at the police station.
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September 19th: Hey. They only let us get one call a day so, anyhow. It’s not good. It’s. I’m. I’m not good. Nothings been good. Ha. Stupid. I just. I. Nobody was – You were the only one. The only good thing. Anyhow. I’m. Sorry.
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December 16th: Hi mom. So I get out tomorrow. And I wanted to say thanks. I don’t want to go over it all again. But thanks. For everything. And for coming to pick me up.
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December 30th: Sorry mom, can’t go to the movies tonight. I’m covering another shift at the Cheesecake. Lakers game tonight so its going to be busy. Hopefully that Vin Douchal guy won’t sit at one of my tables. A two dollar tip? Seriously.
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January 4th: Hey! God! Wow. Ummm. Yeah. I. So I saw your Facebook. They still call you Medusa. Nice. Me? I’m okay. I’m okay. What? Yeah, that would be nice. Tonight? Seriously? Because you don’t have to… Sure, I can do tonight. If you’ll wear your leather like you used to. Yeah, well, I’m a little bit more “in control” lately. Ran my own businesses for a while and don’t ask. How’m I doing? I’m good. Yeah. I’m good now. What? Oh, wow. I miss you too.
Don’t leave us hanging Scrotato…
Nice song Vin. Would make me laugh if I wasn’t on the edge of suicide.
There is about to be a Gonnosyphillihepatitis breakout in this room. The only sure cure that I can see is 5 gallons of gas and a handgrenade.
The poverty level really has risen to an amazingly high level when meth heads can chill all night at clubs and afford breast enhancement and horrendous, full-arm tatts while enjoying bottle service at a night club. Do the clubs on the Vegas strip take food stamps these days? I know things are tough out there.
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In about 15 years the blond will be spending her days sitting in a mobility scooter, playing slots, waiting for the big pay off that will allow her to afford a double wide that she can put on her grandmammy’s property out in the desert. So masterbate to her now, before it’s too late….
$2 tip , eh? Been talking to the valet ?
@Vin^
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Hahaha!
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At least somebody read it.
Mr. Scrotato head is into the fine grains again. This story will have me riveted until the NyQuil kicks in.
There is nothing going on down there. The only nuts I see are of the dough variety. What? I’m an officer, its kind if our thing.
Mack the nozzle has no neck. No neck means no tattoos that say “Believe”.
Not sure if Mr Scrotato Head is a Maine or an Idaho, but he leaves me with peels of laughter.
Re: Crucial Head sighting..,maybe Pfah and Plinky next? I’m always waiting for a FLYTEETH visit. Gets my swatter going.
Too bad I rubbed one out before bed last night, I got nothin’ left for all this talk about Francine.
BTW, This photo is possibly the most punch-worthy
i have ever seen. Ever. I don’t think I could control myself were I to have witnessed this tableau in real life.