Tuesday, February 5, 2013
In Russia, Douche Bag You!
“When Mikeal find time off from guarding gulag, wife Sonja like massively to display her huge tracks of land!” — From an early draft of Maxim Gorky’s 1896 play, “Sonja, Huge Tracks of Land: The Mistaken Proletariat”
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Sonja prefers her men to be the size of her boobs.
“Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the boobies” Unknown circ. 1917
“Thank you, God!”
I’d walk across Siberia in January wearing only flip flops and nylon stockings for a chance to slide my throbbing baracuda between her Russian whale boats.
He’s wearing a flak jacket because she’s booby-trapped.
You folks probly don’t realize that in Canada we are prohibited by the socialist bureaucrats from seeing the Superbowl commercials on TV cause of the bad influence of the Southern Devildog states. So we get shocked days later by unholy unions like this. Comrades. Son.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=lNeRAhA55Zw
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Superbad 47
Interesting art collection, diddler Micheal Jackson and I believe a Mono version of “Winds of Change” by the Scorpions.
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How does one say motorboat in Ukrainian? and does one say motorboat in Ukrainian
You can’t see from this angle, but there 2 guys and a great dane already deep inside that cleavage trying to finish off Hawaiian style.
she’s smuggling Telly Savalis & Yul Brynner
@ Rev
Never mind the fact that the right wingers aren’t doing anything to stop these telecom companies, from shitting in our eyes, ears, and mouth. Even if it was the socialists fault, that has got to be the worst argument against socialism ever. I can’t think of a better reason for censorship than that commercial.
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GoDaddy might as well broadcast Japanese tentical porn to 108 million people, with the source of those tentacles being Psy’s 4-prong, fucking those green pistachio bitches. It would be less disgusting.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rE6iiiDdTNY
Let your uncle McCrude try to cram some useful knowledge into your craniums. Russian chicks are trouble. All of them. And that goes for pseudo Russian chicks like Ukrainians and Georgians too.
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Case in point… a couple of Russian pros encroached on my little barside kingdom last night while I tried to digest my undercooked and not so fresh salmon dinner with the help of a $40 glass of Burgundy. Russian number one, a tall blonde nearly my height makes a meticulous, detailed order of how she wants her martini prepared. Number and size of olives, shaken, how many milliliters of vermouth, and dirty it. 5 minutes go by and the perfect martini arrives. Only Russian number one is appalled that it looks dirty and accuses the sever of trying to poison her with filthy olive juice. A 5 minute dressing down of this poor server follows, and I can only say it reminded me Kipling’s Danny Deever, a soldier who was ritually cashiered and dishonorably discharged before being hanged.
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When the corrected martini arrives, number one and number two begin a systematic assessment of everyone in the bar, going around roughly counter clockwise to discuss how each patron may be a drooling imbecile, of questionable parentage, hideously disfigured, and on and on. Both giggling prettily the whole time like they are not verbally eviscerating everyone in sight. Now, I know some of their commie talk from my work… mostly phrases like, “no, please, I can pay you double,” and “who sent you?” But I know enough to get the gist of what these two rabid hens are about.
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Once the verbal bloodletting is done, their thoughts must have become more professional in nature. Number two, an even taller brunette with dark, almond shaped eyes is smiling at me and trying to make eye contact. As I’m paying my bill, she finally gets my attention. I tell her that I’m sorry but I need to correct her on my age, she was off by about 10 years, and she wasn’t even in the correct hemisphere with her guess on my ancestry. There’s this phrase you hear: if looks could kill. Well it doesn’t quite cover it. If looks could cause every one of your cellular walls to rupture while your protoplasm flows out and coagulates, and you melt into a greasy, boiling puddle on the floor… that is the type of look these two gave me.
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Trouble.
Wow, her tits are bigger than her head.
Is he wearing a bullet-proof vest?
^if you have the bad habit of banging Russian chicks, a bullet proof vest is a good idea, but not foolproof is they decide to go for the eyes or the giggle stick.
Buh-Boob-Schka
Rasboobtin
I’d douse those Gorbachevs with my Love Borscht. Love Borscht, I says.
I’d drown her Solzhenitsyns with my Creamy Goulash of Lust.
I’d launch my Sour Shchi of Passion betwixt her Baryshnikovs.
I was pegging my Ukranian-Jew wife’s post-teenage tits and other holes during Perestrioka. Man, she was a hott young Minsk. I think I was ass-raping (respect) my betrothed while watching Reagan’s second (respect) Inaugeration Speech (respect).
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Walls
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I see what you did there Mr.Sock.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xckBwPdo1c
I’d manipulate my genitals in such a manner that copious amounts of my Podliva of Lyubof would coalesce around her Brezhnevs.
I’d Cremlin on he Boobshevics
he, nyet, HER
…or he has bigger tits than pumpito
I’d shove my Stalin up her Tolstoy
Muscleavites
I’d Dr. her Zhivago
I like the furniture, especially LargeLamp.
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She is an accomplished classical peenist, versed in the music of Rockmaninoff and Tchaicocksky.
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Godivas
I’d Putitin her Twotsky
^allways been sucky at commie spellin & such
I don’t know what a ruble is worth, but I’d pay a wheelbarrow full of them to see Sonja do a 10 minute trampoline act.
I am goink to dehrail Svetlana Suckitoff in the mountains of Herkraine.
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Chicken Kiev
Mutually Assured Boobstruction
I’d stain the head of her Gorbachevs
I’d break up her Soviet Unions
…in honour of Pfah
I’d decorate those globes w a map of hawaii
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kozaks
They both suck.
That’s no moon, that’s a space station!
That said, I wouldn’t be terribly upset if she used a tractor beam to pull me aboard. IYKWIMAITTYD.
Reverend @6:01… STFU or GTFO
^Hey now, none of that talk. The Rev is entitled to his wack-ass uninformed opinion. If you can’t inform him, don’t try to impede on his rights as a Canadian.
That lamp shade doubles as a nightie.
what Sonja’s boobies can do with my mouth:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjnTbBgV5oE
Yuri regrets not buying a monitor before using those Russian bride sites on teh Interwebs.
Save this one for the “Dance Macabre” or the “Grotesque” area of features for the 2023 Guggenheim DB1 Exhibit. This is priceless.
At least we now know what happened to Sputnik-1 and Sputnik-2.
Those boobs are big enough to draw a gulag escape map on. The blue veins are the Volga. Follow them far enough and you end up at Red Square.
Haven’t seen globes this big since my last field trip to the San Onofre nuclear plant.
Finally, my response to Rev gets posted @ 6:59
TRACTS!
It’s TRACTS of land. Look it up.
Illiterate Douchebags.