Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Occupy Hair Street
It’s like some garish Brundlefly genetic splicing between arrogant Wall Street douchebags and an early 90s punk band, running with the Goose while hitting on Gillian, the hottest girl from sophomore year English class.
I need a coffee.
EDIT: Fixed the photo problem. Well, the photo is still a problem. But now it’s visible.
We’re gonna need a photo to confirm.
Boy, do you ever.
Now, get some joe and stick a photo up. Of pear, preferably.
The mock is finally working. Now there is just hypothetical douchebags. I’m not sure how to handle the new format though. Does the woman at least have nice boobs?
We have photo, gentlemen, we have photo!
Reminds me of the cum/hair gel scene in There’s Something about Mary.
They’re still wearing ties. Which means they brought the hair spooge to work. After work they copped a fine dinner at Cipriani. While there, they did the douche hair in the bathroom and then wandered over whatever yuppie watering hole they’re in. At the watering hole, they ran into Gillian, who’s the older sister of the douche on the left (Brodo)’s exgirlfriend.
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Gillian’s from Paterson. Gillian works in retail. She’s the girl with perfect teeth She picks up lonely guys in bars. Then she takes off when they’ve bought her drinks. “Don’t you have money? I ask, “of course… I think.”
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You see, this is not a locker room – he owns a surfboard, not a yacht. The arrangement’s not quite… quite right. And I’m still sitting over here. One guy just got up and brayed.
They wag their words – they’re all in heat. I can ignore it just don’t steam up the view.
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Most of this is stolen.
from my iPhone somewhere near Wall Street.
Reminds me I still need to get a life. If this is not a company party for the Mohawk Co., autodouche.
Fools to the left, Jokers to the right,
And she’s stuck in the middle with poo.
I would say, “Way to ruin a nice suit”, but neither of them is wearing nice suits. I just want to take an acetelyne torch to their faces. I have no idea how to spell ‘acetalyne’. Fucck it. Death from above.
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Spelunkers
Boiler room douches 2 days before the utility room they work out of making cold calls to sell bogus stocks gets raided by the FBI and SEC.
My initial reaction was more or less “meh”. But after closer examination, I’m happy to report I that was able to work up sufficient outrage. First, I’m 90% certain that this is a father/son douchebag team. Nice bit of parenting, Dad.
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Dad is a faux douche which, ironically, is autodouche with the possible exception of costume parties. Son is authenti-douche… and here is the killer: mohawk enhancing cranial ink. Autodouche. Autodick. Automatic roundhouse kick to the temple.
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And how is this sad affair supposed to end? With Dad in the front and Son in the rear, autoerotically stroking each other off through Gillian’s taint? It’s too terrible to contemplate. I am going to go huff some glue now.
The obviously receding hairline gel up the ‘hawk routine is not a winner…not even a wiener. Just a ‘bag.
@McCrudeshoes, that’s some fine notto-erotica you’ve written there.
Dude on left with the busy tie looks like a real cockneck. Homie on right appears very try hard. Bleeth’s boobies are small. Probably firm. Love me a small, firm fun bag.
Ron Jeremy.
@Nancy: If I can get you to picture it and cringe (or launch your lunch) then it’s mission accomplished. My English Lit. professor would be so proud, if he weren’t currently co-chair of the human fertilizer department underneath my carnivorous plant exhibit.
Nope . No way are these tools in the finance industry like yours truly. These are salesman. Car salesman.
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Seen enough of them . Know enough of them. They are a culture unto themselves.
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Car salesman know no weekends. The retail trade is a Saturday/Sunday heyday. They say things like ,”Hey, what are you doing Tuesday? It’s my Friday, we’re getting together.”
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They live in a world we’ll never know
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Everyone is either a mark or a stroker. Theirs is a world of foursquares and back ends and spiffs and T.O. men. Incentified by putting unsuspecting dupes into the club.
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Not to say that isn’t a talent in itself. Kind of like say, a Kardashian bitch’s talent, which is the ability to be gutsy and delusional at the same time by doing nothing well other than willing to make a spectacle of yourself in public.
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Please don’t give these guys any credence. At least Wall Street types have a discernable talent. They are wildy overpaid and under taxed but that doesnt mean they don’t know what they’re doing. It’s the current system and they know how to work it.
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Vagrants
Gillian is a prime hott and yet she is a but a few years away frsage roomy eye-lids, saggy jowls, tank ass, and a gig waitressing at the local Waffle Hut, where she will work the graveyard shift. I just depressed myself.
Hi, I’m a dick. Line above should read, “few years away from droopy eye-lids…”
Agree on the car salesmen call. Ages ago I worked as a waiter on Queensland’s Gold Coast. I remember one mega-death lunch serving a convention of these idiots. Every word they uttered was somehow related to their corny business.
Schmendriks
Green Tie has a tatt on his dome that looks like the threads on a football. Creates a clear justification for giving him a boot to the head.
Is that back spackle on the guy’s grey shirt collar or did he wash his clothes himself and used the chlorine bleach?
I hate all three of them.
Dude on the left and his tie are blinding me with science. Lady reeks of insecurity.