Friday Thoughts and Links
It’s sunny and 74 degrees in Los Angeles, as your narrator gives you the weather report with a nod of homage to the great David Lynch.
The Margarita sisters are drinking out of RareAss Clear Cup, while meatheads Vin and Sal pose like scrotal rocks.
My obsession with Hostess Fruit Pies continues since the local bodegas began stocking them above the Ring Dings.
I nosh on some chemical fruit. And I laugh at silly watches on douchescrotes.
Life is good.
Here’s your links:
HCwDB legend Joey Porsche arrested?
Hot Chocolate Bunnies with Douche Chocolate Bunnies.
Speaking of greatest things, how about the greatest closing title sequence of the 80s . Weller + Goldblum = win, even if one of Bonzai’s crew is a proto-douche.
For there is only one collar pop that gets a nottadouche, and it is Buckaroo Bonzai. Rockstar Leniency Rule exemplified.
Giant Isopods feast. Or, as they call it in Jersey, “All You Can Eat.”
You know you want it. You know you’ve earned it.
So who am I to deny you your reward for another week of douche mocking?
Not enough? Okay, one more.
Hourglasspear. I want to teethe upon ’tis cheek.
For Medua Oblongota:
I am standing in the dirty and ugly little lobby of the acting studio staring down into the even uglier brown wooden “lost and found” box. The box has almost nothing of any real value, chapstick (and really, why? Who will know it’s there’s and take it back without knowing what’s happened to it since they forgot it?), lip gloss, a few iPod buds- one of which is held together by tape- which lead me to wonder if people are bringing those in from the walk to class and forgetting them or for emotional preparation, and if for emotional preparation, should one be relying on music? I saw Rachel Weisz take her buds out before shooting a scene in the special features of The Fountain, but wasn’t sure if that was to set the mood, or to kill boredom while she waited for the shot to be set up by lighting and the DP. I guess if she did it for mood then it’s ok for others to do…
She comes up from behind and to my right and brushes me just slightly. I am un-able to determine if this is her more-subtle-than-poking-me way to announce her presence and get my attention compared to my tricep-pinch of varying intensities that I can barely control the strength of, or merely a mis-calculation of distance between us. But then, even if it’s a mis-calculation of distance does it even matter that she touches me lightly on my right tricep in considering we’ve been together for months now?
In fact, that’s her whole way of being, her ethos; everything is questionable in terms of whether intentional or just some slight accident that’s really not a big deal, nor could you ever get annoyed over, except of course, maybe that it’s so light and airy it’s annoying in realizing that you’re never sure if you’re in control or just playing along with her intentions and while she makes you FEEL in control of what’s happening, you really are not. She could be as socially dexterous and calculated as a neuro-surgeon or like James Dean in East of Eden, so un-aware of her surroundings and caught up in the moment that she goes metaphorically and literally bumping into things by acciden. It’s really up to your interpretation. Part of her charm is that she admits nothing, she just “is” as far as she’s concerned or willing to admit.
From a distance, one might even watch and conclude that I am indeed portraying the classical masculine role here and making overt and deliberate actions thinking of no one but myself and doing what I want to do, like the supposed men of antiquity. However, such a person would be wrong about this specific situation, and arguably about the classic masculine role as well in over-looking or not realizing that it only APPEARS that I’m making all of the grand gestures because they are not attuned to how subtle hers are and that in fact I am merely watching for the cues she’s giving me, picking them up, and responding in kind. A girl like her never has had to ask a guy out or make such big gestures, she is far more adept at making sure he knows he can, should he choose and empowering him to feel like he can and should, sprinkling little comments about what “we should do sometime” or non-verbal forearm touches along the way…and she’s now and has been gracefully leading me from one move to the next, all within her master-plan; casually but carefully directing me to not do something that she wouldn’t like, would disappoint, or upset her, and thus potentially lowers her high esteem for me. If one very carefully watches the dynamic of a healthy couple, they can usually see this very thin lattice between the two, woven in a sort of pheromonal mist. I am only capable of paying attention this closely and picking up on these cues that are so subtle because she has my un-divided attention, even if I’m not in the same room, on a near-chemical level. She is aware of this un-divided, near-chemical attention and so am I. I am also aware that she knows this to be the case and in turn she knows that I know and also that she knows that I know that she knows. Naturally, this pleases her, and from the nascent experience of knowing me briefly with the two girls I dated before her and knowing how difficult it actually is to achieve my un-divided, near-chemical attention, this pleases her even more, and is the reason or creates the incentive to so painstakingly but subtly send cues and direct a generally un-subtle, incorrigible, and wreck-less young man like myself.
When we first met her whole vibe spoke to me, as if whispering in my sub-conscious “I think it would be wise for you to talk to me, and should you do well, I will then suggest you ask me out for coffee, without asking you out directly, that will be for you to do. But if you don’t, that’s your choice and I’ll live, but really, it’d be smarter for you to do that than to not.” It wasn’t arrogant, conceited, or “bitchy” but reasonable, and even-keeled. Actually it was like being sold something really nice and luxurious by the sort of sales executive who usually or only works with extremely wealthy and sophisticated people. The kind of person who merely makes sure you get the exact yacht you want when you already were of the mind to buy one, and knows how to reinforce that it was your idea to begin with. This way of presenting herself as neither easy, nor a “guarantee”, but not as some self-absorbed hassle either-simply that in doing things right, it would work out well for you in return-made the whole scenario more attractive. I took some time to work up the nerve to commit to such a project with basic pleasantries and the like, because this sort of off-the-cuff earnestness involves a sense of self-awareness, decency, and respectability that’s for more intimidating than your average run-of-the-mill situation, but didn’t waste time either.
I lift my right arm and pull her under it, and kiss the left side of her forehead, a certain amount her hair touching my mouth. I am more than ok with this.
“I REALLY like those glasses,” she says.
“Yeah…” I say back, both of us knowing we’re tempted to walk away with them, but un-able to deal with the guilt of doing so.
“I’ve thought about taking them every day this week” She whispers on the loud side for a whisper in my ear, her lips and breath so close it tickles a little bit. This is not her attempt at secrecy, but being intentionally and ironically dramatic about the secrecy necessary for this cloak and dagger topic.
“Yeah…me too.” I am not in the mood to have a full articulate conversation, though that does not mean I am in a bad mood either. It’s more that I’m just in the mood to be there physically and that’s all. My mind is not working much either, I am just there and peaceful in just being there, with my arm around her staring down at the sunglasses I’d really like to take were it not for the guilt.
She turns her head toward some of the class-members who’ve been mingling in the actual studio-area and says “you weren’t kidding about your activity being serious today.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The partially open-window that seemed to be doing an in-sufficient job of cooling the room down at 11:30 pm has in fact done a wonderful job as the room is now freezing. A decision needs to be made whether to shut the window, grab the extra fuzzy blanket on the floor and put it in-between my body and the cold sheet and blanket I’ve used all night, or both. It’s 4:48 a.m., March 31st, 2010 and I have just woken from a dream.
Army of Douche-ness
Hourglass pear and sideboob is perfection.
Pardon me, but I'll be in my bunk, nibbling on some pears. Ideally, all three of them.
SIGH. Hourglasspear. Looks like I know what I'll be doing for this entire weekend. Then Red Sox/Yanks Sunday PM.
Halfway through the Isopod footage it looked remarkably like Plinky's Mom's tooterbug does in real time.
Or so I've heard.
Hey, wait….where's Plinky been?
That fabric is touching Hourglass's butthole. She needs to hit that with a Tide stick before she washes it.
@ Darksock, 1:22pm
If she's out of Tide sticks, my tongue would also suffice.
For a brief minute I was hoping the closing credits were for "Bukkake Bonzai," but alas my substandard reading comprehension once again has caused me to be disappointed.
Peartastic!
Hourglass pear is my new desktop background.
Buckaroo Bonzai is one of my most favourite movies of all time ever.
Dead Brilliant. Required Viewing.
@MG:
Interesting, but what the hell are you talking about?
@Troy
glad you asked. I can't figure it out.
You take from it what you will.
It was, to me, akin to a lynx or perhaps ocelet that 15 hot cinnamon tic tacs are being pushed up the butt of.
And that's a good thing, people.
That is a gooood thing.
you had to have been there.
Army of Douche-ness
I am back on the old site! How am I supposed to mock in the past after I have witnessed the future of mock?
chocolate bunnies… uhm!
@ Army of Doucheness,
You should have stolen one of the iPods.
Was I hallucinating just a couple hours ago.. or was I seeing the future of mock?
Jesus, I've gotta lay off the drinking…
For DarkSock:
Horse With No Name
America
C minor
On the first part of the journey,
I was strokin' my wang all night.
There were plants and turds and cockks and things,
There was sand and hills and rings.
The first thing I met was a fly with TARMAL,
And a sky with no clouds.
The chicks weren't hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sounds.
I peed in the desert in a horse with no name,
It felt good to drain my main vein.
In the desert, you never have any shame,
Cause the sun quickly dries all your nasty pee stains.
La,la, la, la, la, la, la………
After nine days, I let the horse go free,
'Cause he couldn't hold no more pee.
There were plants and turds and cockks and things,
There was sand and hills and rings.
With lotion, in the desert, you can jizz on the ground,
But, it might turn your weiner red.
Under her titties, lies a heart made of stone,
'Cause the bitch wouldn't give no head.
You see, I peed in the desert in a horse with no name,
It felt good to drain my main vein.
In the desert you never have any shame,
'Cause the sun quickly dries all your nasty pee stains.
La, La, La, La, La, La,La……………..
@ MG
Well thank you, what lovely prose. Normally when I haunt people's dreams it involves me with a German accent and lots of wooden clothespins, hey hey hey!!! I keed, I keed.
@ Scrotum Pole 4:05
HAHAHAHAHAHA EPIC!!!! I'll never hear that song again without seeing DarkSock's ghostly avatar before me, and smelling the acrid odor of piss.
Holy Crap, Buckaroo Banzai, I forgot all about that movie and I forgot so damn many awesome actors were in it. Gotta go back and watch that again and this time I won't be stoned.
You know, I had no idea crabs and eels were scavengers. And they say this site has no redeeming value. I thought the high-speed feeding sequence looked like a micro-shot of Snooki's latest pap smear.
What would Jesus Douche–holy cow. I…never mind.
Hourglass pear was great, but I was mesmerized by nylon sideboob. Homina homina!!!
@ Medusa-
A lil while back you told me not to worry about my OHC and that all can't be saved in the thread with the female reader spotting a Portland by way of miami/jersey bag…which helped. and THEN you made the comment, as one of the few lady readers that the "Push-Pull" only works on stupid, neurotic, or highly insecure women and that really made me feel bertter abut things.
I guess i just wanted to say "thanks" but couldnt do so monosyllabically.
Love,
AoD
p.s. is Zohan a douchebag, cuz I think he's flippn hysterical
Hot Chicks with Smurfbags fetures the lovely and talented Sofia Vergara. For more Sofia, click:
Sofia