Friday Thoughts and Links – Rare Late Night Edition
Pay no mind to Silly Frames Fanny, or her mangina I’ll call “Dude Who May Or May Not Be Wearing A Shirt With His Own Likeness Emblazoned Uponst It” (DWMOMNBWASWHOLEUI, for short); neigh, I say… let us move on to Friday Thoughts and Links, DarkSock Edition. And by “DarkSock” I mean “Light on Thoughts, and later than Adele’s period).
First, on a somber note, tragic news about the loss of the mother of former regular Plinky; his mom perished in a freak skydiving accident, despite the heroic efforts of her OB/GYN to revive her. I’m just grateful that I had the honor of meating her.
Also, while there is some conjecture as to DB1’s absence this week, allow me to enlighten you as to what he’s really off doing… It just goes to show; everyone in Los Angeles is insane.
In fact, after meeting DB1 in person I suspected he may be suffering from Assburgers Syndrome.
This week’s movie pick: “Donkey Poop…How rare!!!!”.*
*Warning…You will be dumber for having seen this.
Well…time to address the 800 pound gorilla in the room. It really chaps my ass that many of you couch potatoes are only enthused when I helm because I supposedly offer Gratuitous Ass Pear.
Such as, for example, the glorious Gabrielle pics that Vin Douchal shared with me, featuring numerous prurient poses which I would NEVER post to this site, other than for purposes of this eloquent defense of my integrity.
Well, gentle readers, not THIS Dark Sock. I have True Grit.
Besides, even if I did post gratuitious pear, thanks to Title IV I’d be obliged to post something for the female regulars such as Nancy D, such as subliminal peen I happened to pause upon during a pee break during the opening title of last week’s True Blood…you see a show for 4 or 5 years, ya think you’d catch a subliminal orgy right under your nose…
Them’s your Friday Thoughts & Links, post-bed-time-style.
Son.
*whew*
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That was a lot of work. Thank your DB1 next time you read a FT&L; it’s an ass ton of coding, which he does for you. His devotion to the regs is the only reason this site’s still up. Sons. So respect the new wrinkle that’s coming soon.
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Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to get drunk(er).
Thats an assload of pear. I would gently dust the the sand from true grit pear using a guilded Maldavian cockatoo feather duster, before sheathing my red handled Ginsu 2(tm) into that arse like it was a cheap acrylic kitchen counter knife rack.
I’d marry that chick with Assburgers Syndrome. Imagine all the little sliders we would produce?
I don’t know if I’m getting cautious in my old age but some more weird things happened this week. I don’t know if it’s Anthony “Tony Loafers” Rizzo or “Tommy Earlobes” Lobozzo pulling my leg, but the other day Mrs. Wallnuts went out to see what the Postman left us and she found a dead rat was nailed to the side of the mailbox. Both guys live around the way, were caporegimes in the Bonnano Family and knew all about the Ike, JFK, Castro mishegas. Mishegas, I says.
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Oh, I also got a strange phone call from some guy in Nigeria telling me he had money in a bank account and he needed my help getting it out. But that was probably nuthin’. He tol me I’d get 100 large if I fronted him 5. Where do these titsunes get off? Get off, I says.
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Which reminds me of a scam this guy Johnny “Tap Shoes” Capenegro used to pull. He used to collect for the sports book that worked in Queens back in the 50s. That was some big business. He’d hang out at Aqueduct or Belmont where all the degenerate gamblers were and get them to bet on either the Dodgers, Giants or Yankees – or all three – and because these guys were losers, they always lost. “Tap Shoes” had a great gig goin’, like shootin’ stupid fish in a barrel.
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So when these jadrools was into “Tap Shoes” for some serious Fazools, he would look for guys with the same or similar name, but who lived in better neighborhoods, and then wait til the guys were at work then stop by the house and tell the skirts their hubby owed a bookie a lot of cabbage. He would add an extra zero or two to the book ticket depending on the zip code of the mark, for good measure. Ya mean?
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So he’d collect from the mark and then go back and clip the original Momo for what he owed the book. Whatta scam! Sometimes if the rich broad was a looker, he’d offer her a chance to “work-off” the husband’s debt. Even if she wasn’t cute he’d get blowed and then take less Scarole (pronounced, “schca-roll’, I says) than he said was “owed.” There’s nothing quite like getting blowed from a dame who thinks you’re doing her a solid. I pine for the days when things were so much simpler. I says, pine.
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pine? as in a parrot pining for the fjords?
I’m taking a pause from my victory lap to recognize DarkSock for outstanding work this week at the helm. I know he’s saying we haven’t won anything but that just classic Sock being all modest and shit. Also RIP Plinky’s Mom. I suppose I’ll have to pour out six 40’s in her honor. You know, because of her size. Anyway, the subliminal peen pic was sublime. In fact, it will be the inspiration for my MISSION ACCOMPLISHED pic. Which will basically be me with a dude on each side. I will be giving the two thumbs up gesture. And they will each be giving what is known as the peens up gesture. Septia tone of course. Great week everyone.
Teh Gratuitous Pear was a bit……..trannyish, but the True Grit pear was delicious.
Speaking of which – the 2010 remake of True Grit was earthshattering in its fantasticalness.
Oh, and – regarding the pic of the mangina next to the blonde with the goofy frames – that sultry brunette on the far right needs to meet me. Doggy style, that is.
J’aime Le Pear! Thanks for a funny week, DarkSock!
Fuck! Gets me every day! I’m putting up a sticker that says “did you sign in, dummy?”
THANK YOU DARKSOCK
DS – Great pear week.
The readers appreciate your dedication to finding and posting pear.
There’s more going on in this pic than I realized in my happy hour impaired state. Naomi Watts Bleeth is about to churn Desi Diana’s butter while with the other hand she clocks Risky Business Bag (tell me that ain’t as gay as it is kitchy) with an ancient Sumarian bronze fertility chalice.
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Waistless Berthatude in the back cheers them on, in an orange and pink getup that you could use to adjust the tint to your monitor.
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And there’s actual live books in the background… are these democrats or something or are they being ironic? Reading is for fags and ugly chicks with bad skin.
McCrude, those are some fine bleethetails you point out, Dude!
I love couch pear and chaps pear as much as weeble loves donkey and pie.
I don’t post links very often on this site, but I feel that this disturbing image is too important not to share.
It is a most compelling commentary on the declining economic and cultural conditions we face in Amerika, as well as a searing portrayal of an unfolding geopolitical crisis, as we try in vain to feed an ever-expanding population with diminishing resources. The stark expressions on the faces of the subjects coupled with the sidewalk, which stops abruptly, speak to our abject misery as a diverse populace stands on the precipice struggling to find common ground in a brutal world, seemingly without meaning and certainly devoid of hope.are.
Two notes:
The shirt pic is Tom Cruise from Risky Business. His Pac-Man shirt must still be in the laundry.
And a shout-out for the first acknowledgement of “fake glasses with no lenses as a fashion accessory” that I’ve been chirping about for eight months.
Good work Sock, thanks for the pix of Grace Slick guzzling Jack Daniels, that brought back some fond memories.
For all of you who love athletic bleeths.
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http://youtu.be/tMgmYutL9W0
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There is a brief glimpse of video hurdler pear at around the 1:56 mark, and several seconds of female hurdler groin shave reveal, which may be my new favorite thing.
@ Troy^; Yes.
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@doucheywallnuts, have you told that story before or have I seen it somewhere else? I’d swear I’ve read something like it.
That’s all new, all me. No plagos, duplicos here. Perhaps all of my stories are starting to sound alike….
Fucking ridiculous amount of pear,,,,criminal amounts of damage to my psyche this morning.
Again, Hermit with the disturbing pic from hell. “Circa 1950’s MK Ultra projects.”
Congrats Dreuche, it was about time and Sock was looking out for the sistas on this site.
Colorado Bath Salts?
I will also fwapp on the funny – faced brunette with the tight ass in the law library.
That was some great DSFTAL Mr. Sock. I missed it while I was tubing along the mighty St. Lawrence River with the natural beauty of two nations flying by my Michelob Ultra benzodiazapine addled brain.