COMMENT OF THE WEEK: JACQUES DOUCHETEAU
Looking from the inside out, I have a new-found appreciation for the subtle genius of rewarding creative commentators with the coveted Comment Of The Week while at the same time utterly phoning in an entire weekend day by re-posting something you didn’t even write yourself in the first place.
Oh DB1, you sly boots.
Semi-aquatic regular, Jacques Doucheteau, takes home the gold this week with his pithy observations on the dearth of worth when it comes to bedding a bleeth in IT’S ALIVE…PROBABLY.
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That broad looks like a migraine f@#k. The p@#sy isn’t that great, but a damp hole is a damp hole, and the satisfaction of getting to brag about tagging that scrawny ass with much disrespect would make it that much more worth it. However…
Funbags there no doubt gets her ideas of what’s sexy from redtube and pornhub, like oh so many more of those pseudo-SoCo girls. They throw out fake scream/grunts with every thrust, a grimace of half pleasure, half discomfort from unaroused lack of lube as they force out “Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!” repeatedly in the same ascending pitch. The sound of their bad porn actress moans drives into your eardrums like old Asian lady in a Saturday Market on a closed street, taking out unsuspecting neurons and running over your more cherished memories of girls giving genuine moans of coital triumphs, spinning the tires on their faces until they’re ground down to a bloody gore and bone soaked sludge of “Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!” Like a cluster headache, once you get your d@#k wet you reach the point of no return, where the pain behind your eyes is so intense the only way out is a forceful injection of lidocaine and double-aught buckshot into the sinus cavities.
You pound harder and faster, slapping you d@#k muscle into her boney loins like an overtaxed steam engine piston, hoping to hurry up and be rid of the torture emanating from her vocal cords. But the fake grunts just get louder and faster in unison, and the pitch rises. Neighborhood dogs begin to howl. Nearby tenants put out “For Sale” signs. The old deaf bum who begs for Big Macs and Camo 99 down in front of the corner market vomits out his pancreas and promptly bleeds to death, his last experience in life being the first sound he hears: “Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!”
I’d still tag it.
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So say we all, JD. So say we all.
I agree. Last screamer I banged, slutty zaftig dental assistant I think, was so fucking loud I shoved my crust laden boxers into her mouth and she didn’t flinch. Slutty good times.
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I also agree with the Baron’s comment about posting “winners” in the Haiku. It’s all fun and shit but does society encourage “winners” anymore. I say nay.
No child left behind and yuppie indulgence had turned a creative nation into a bunch of future pop-stars. Nobody wins anymore. Everyone wants everyone to win by sharing the pie of industrialization created by our immigrant forefathers created by their wit and dirty hands. Hard calloused hands of counting well deserved dividends. Give out to each man as he needs and take from each man as he can give is today’s mantra. 47% might be a harsh number. But we are running out of givers. If Honey Boo-Boo can work, so can anyone with a brain cell left. Wake up young men of America and rise again before the Machine cometh. And he’s coming soon, mang!
How’s about a link to the original comment thread?
I love you, Rev, but when I want socio-political lectures from crazy motherfuckers, I’ll find a local nutjob.
I tip my hat to the Rev for his improbable use of Honey Boo-Boo as a good example.
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Also, for reasons I don’t care to know, picture-guy seems to have twin tattoos of Homunculus sperm.
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The Baron’s posts’ve been great; I still can’t get that hyena picture out of my mind. So picture this:
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The hyena female’s clitoris is as big as the male’s penis – it’s also part of the birth canal (they have no vagina), and new mothers often die a bloody death when their clitoris explodes while giving birth – Fact!.
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I know this because my neighbor and girlfriend have them as pets.
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Lastly, – as a special thanks to the Baron – here’s some Horror Hyena Pear.
Jacques – c’est vraiment magnifique!
Some of these bolt-on boobie bleeths bring to mind a very colorful description offered by a buddy of mine: “She may look great, but she’s pullin’ an 8×20 trailer of crazy!”
Honey Boo Boo doesn’t use a hyphen in her name. Her family doesn’t even know what a hyphen is.
Oops… not my day today. I see the link.
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Peace out, bitches!
When The Rev shares his political insight strains of “God Bless Amërïkæ” course through the subconsciousness of any true patriot. Even though he’s a foreigner, and most likely a heathen neopaganist.
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Oh Känådá we stand on guard for thee.
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Boner
Neopornagainists
An exploding clitoris is no laughing matter.
Any creature sporting an elongated…..fully erectile pseudopenis should be given the utmost respect and a wide berth.
^ speaking of San Francisco, go Giants!
Out-shined by the Rev once again. I tip my hat in your honor.
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And by tip my hat I mean fuck you.
And I would also like to complain about how I was misquoted. I never said f@#k, p@#sy, or d@#k. I said fuck, pussy, and dick.
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Get it right.