Saturday, May 21, 2011

Saturday Ass Pear: Beach Comber Pear

Aw, jeez. Looks like another whale-tail has washed ashore.

For once, I’m saddened that it is not covered in oil.

# posted by Bagnonymous
8:00 pm May, 21 Wedgie said...

I am in favor of abundant pear. Darksock has correctly figured the lay of the land in this tumultuous political climate.

8:03 pm May, 21 Adam B said...

Much appreciated, but I do believe this too is a repeat of previous pear

8:13 pm May, 21 Et Tu Douche? said...

Not sure why but after witnessing this it makes me want to move to Montana soon and become a dental floss tycoon.

8:19 pm May, 21 Nancy Dreuche said...

She should get one of those metal detector thingies that way she doesn’t have to crawl on her hands and knees searching for things to make a little side money.

9:09 pm May, 21 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

I would bet that she has a tight little #2 turdcutter. It would fit my #4 in a way only I would enjoy. Is that mean?

9:11 pm May, 21 Whoop-Di-Douche said...

By the looks of that harness, she was keel-hauled.

12:18 am May, 22 Guid is Good said...

Umm, while you’re down there…

12:25 am May, 22 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

Waking up to Lady Gaga at 3 am is too much for me too handle. I have have strong feelings about blinding myself with PH booster and have a firm erection at the same time. I wish I new if there was a bylaw preventing me from cuttin my lawn under spotlights this early. But sometimes it’s good to know you are going to see the sun come up. You all know how it is. Wake up a little cranky cause you’re still jonesing for oxy and xanax two months after the chemical detox and you have heartburn from eating five big bratwursts at your father in laws BBQ he cooked for you because you went into the forest behind your house and picked flowers which are not to be picked for him, and by flowers I mean trilliums, and by heartburn I mean to much French’s and sauerkraut. All the fucking Zantac is gone so you have to mix your whiskey you use to calm your nerves at times like these with milk. And you sit down for a sausage crap but the only thing that comes out is a tiny queef taunting you for your gluttony. And who cares If Indira Bhatnagar’s husband is the space walk specialist on Endeavour right now. Fucking family gotsa get a life and keep themselves out of the fucking local rag that has nothing else to print. So she married a dude who trained in an outfit in a damn swimming pool for ten years to float around and turn a fucking wrench in space. Who friggin cares. Every day, Andrew Faustel married to native daughter is up in freaking space.
I’ve fucking had enough, I think I need to get stoned so I can see straight as daybreak comes on this crisp morning and I load up with some .22 shorts to shoot the grackels and crows killing my sweet robins and woodpeckers before I bring the girls to there grandparents so I can open the garden and plant the fucking pool that the girls will be screaming in all summer and get my gaga off with the old lady. And by old I mean National Geographic tits she can sweep the floor with. Son. Fuck I’m in a miserable mood. I wonder if Hermit ever dreams that the machine has head chopping buzz saws chasing him around like in that stupid Will Smith western. That guy a few posts back was so white he has more street cred than Jazzy pants. Blades chasing me around while I was on the Enterprise with Prince William and his sister Pippa cruising into the future and I come back and everybody’s all old and shit when I go through the black thing all because a doorbell in my parent’s first house had a short in it and all the songs were from 1972. Long weekend in Ontario, fucking golf courses are all soaked and playing winter rules bullshit. I hate long weekends this time of year they always suck. But I can always hope that the early campers and cottagers have a fucking miserable night like me. At least 5-10 people will drown so I guess it’s not that back being awake with a Lady Gaga boner. Maybe I have time to read Samurai Scrote again.

1:02 am May, 22 Hermit said...

Anyone who’s awake at 3:00- 4:00 am has some serious issues Rev, you need to get some treatment.
I blame most of my lack of sleep on black coffee, pickles and adderol, (and of course a disfunctional childhood.)
I’m told I have problems staying focused, (according to three ex-wives and some doctor.) I’m thinking about changing doctors. I’ve got chronic back pain, gout and a liver disorder but all he’ll give me is ibuprofin and saltpeter.. Maybe the Rev can put in a good word with his Canadian/Hatian voodoo doctor.
I always wanted to move to Canada and live out in the woods with a fat, vulgar Eskimo woman and a pack of sled dog/ wolf hybrids. I’d only come into town to buy salt, flour and meth. I’d feed the sled dogs penguins and seal blubber. If I got tired of the Eskimo woman, I’d feed her to the wolves as well.
Life would be so much simpler.
Ever notice how that when you drink whiskey you fall asleep real quick but wake up a few hours later?

1:15 am May, 22 Hermit said...

The ass pear up top makes me feel a little better, but then I think she’s either puking or lost her contacts and I get all depressed again.
Since I didn’t get ruptured, I’m thinkin I’ll put on my Robert Johnson collection and drink anti-freeze ’til it’s time for breakfast.

2:01 am May, 22 Steve L. said...

i regret i have but one hand to masturbate for HCwDB’s bumper crop of pears.
i might become impotent when DB1 returns, but it’ll be worth it.

2:15 am May, 22 Steve L. said...

way to pick just the right time to go on a 1-week hiatus, Steve. fuckface.

Leave a Reply

What is 10 + 7 ?
Please leave these two fields as-is:
IMPORTANT! To be able to proceed, you need to solve the following simple math (so we know that you are a human) :-)