Thursday, February 3, 2011
Sandy Meets a Vegas Hawk, Loses a Piece of Her Innocence
But, on the bright side, Sandy did get comped a free line pass for the “All You Can Eat Blackjack Buffet” at the Gold Slinger.
But, on the bright side, Sandy did get comped a free line pass for the “All You Can Eat Blackjack Buffet” at the Gold Slinger.
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Her: innocent too embarrassed to tell him to fuck off.
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Him: choadtool who never understood why he hates himself so much, who stumbled upon the mohawk schtick as a way to try to cover that up.
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Me: passerby who, upon seeing this scene, would boot him one in the nards, then offer to take her to lunch at a nearby buffet to try to minimize the effect of the situation on her day. Until later, when I would gnaw softly on her lady parts, and be ever so grateful.
Sad, just very sad. Thank God she got a meal out of the deal.
Sandy’s foreplay with Hawk was less stimulating after he lost his glasses.
That mo-fo is breathing my air and it really pisses me off. I wish that can of Douche-Off really was a bit stronger.
Candice studied Marine Biology and wanted to work at Sea World. Knowing things are tight with this economy, she took an internship walking BoBo the freaky chimp-boy.
Her knees are so ugly she uses 3/4 length mirrors.
She also lost her tampon.
And that tampon is Vegas Hawkbag. Douchiest Maximus.
Sandy’s clitoral hand displays its disdain for Vegas’ native vermin while simultaneously signaling for an airstrike of projectile diarrhea.
Now here’s a douche I could not stop hitting with a blunt object. But since that seems to be frowned upon by the law, I would revert to my other tactic. Which is getting to know him, not in the biblical sense, but through observation and conversation. While his stories and reparte would be tortuous and painful to listen to it will all be worth it in the end. “You’re such a good listener Nancy”, Hawktwit would say. I would nod and encourage him to imbibe or partake in his drug or drink of choice. He would then become more chatty and I would glean his psychological makeup and phobias from our interaction. And that’s when the fun begins, for me of course.
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Sure its a lot more work than beating him over the head with a lamp and it takes a lot longer to see results. But the picture of the broken douche that emerges after being subjected to my psychological warfare is well worth it.
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So, Vegas Hawk, what’s your poison?
She has an unusual looking penis.
@Nancy: quite right. There’s no law against murdering their inner child. You’re getting all Hannibal Lechter on his Multiple Miggs, torturing him psychologically until he cries so hard he swallows his own tongue and dies.
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I like you.
@Deltus, your sweaty jealousy of my technique is palpable. You’re okay too. 🙂 (Note, I rarely use these emoticon things, so cherish it.)
I like you too Nancy – please have at it
DELTUS YOU FOOL! I SHALL HUNT YOU DOWN WHEREVER YOU ARE!
FIGHT ME, OR FACE MY CHRISTMAS WREATH
FIEND! FACE ME!
That’s one wild looking enlarged clitoris!
Even with Galadriel’s Mirror, Choado ‘Baggins still cannot see he looks like a fool.
Dosn’t the puppet usually sit on the masters hand?
Johnny farted, creating a redundant poo stench.
First runner up in the annual “Smell My Finger” contest…..
I’ve seen better legs on pool tables.
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Question: What part of a hawk smells like tuna?
Lance Baggins: Labia Snapper.
Gurn Fishbine: Field Tampon Extraction Specialist
Hot chicks with what an asshole.com
This is one of the most offensive images I have ever seen. And this is coming from someone who has everything GG Alin ever put on vinyl, and a huge Tom Of Finland tattoo.
“Oops! I sharted another fauxhawked Veags troll didn’t I? My bad!”
Vegas Hawk screams in pain as Sandy’s pussy troll plunges its razor sharp teeth into his bony forearm.
HighHawk Jones finally gets a photo with his favorite sideshow performer, BirdSnatch McGee.
You’d think his hand would be scarlet red with embarrassment, but this jerk’s no Crimson Ted, although he ranks right up there with the definition of “undignified.”
I cannot think of a more douchey maneuver on this site of late than this one.
Sandy, get thee to a nunnery NOW for your own protection.
@ a 8:57a, can I please face your Christmas Wreath? I don’t even want to look that up. Is that slang for bunghole? Dude, seriously I’m laughing so hard I can’t imgaine how this ever works to get someone to actually engage in combat with you. Sorry if this emasculates you, but I’m just sayin’.
I know this guy. He was beaten mercilessly every day of his life until the end of high school for being so short.
His mother was one of the zombie army of lobotomized-but-functional and his father was a bitter, selfish wiseass who also smacked his son around. He died in 1998 of liver cancer.
Like Edward Norton in Fight Club, VH’s recourse is to strike out at things he finds in some way beautiful.
One day his attitude will catch up with him, and afraid of backing down in front of his new friends, he’ll be skillfully and unmercifully knifed in a badly-handled beef with the wrong adversary; a similarly-short, but well-trained practitioner of Filipino Kali.
They will watch him bleed out for 28 seconds on the concrete and then abandon the corpse.
Sandy will consider putting out her cigarette butt in the blood pool, but will decide against as that would get it too dirty.
The vermin population of Las Vegas will smell the fresh kill and converge, but only enjoy some of the tongue, one of the eyes, and keep the right earring as a small prize before the local police arrive.
In spite of this photo, Sandy will successfully continue her career as an elementary school teacher.
I was wondering whatever happened to Ed Grimley…
She was ready to kick him to the curb but then he offered to run back and forth between her legs again and well, one more night couldn’t hurt, could it?
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Yes. Yes it could.
His dad taught him how to make freaky douche faces, but he’s not quite a chip off the old blockk.