Friday Thoughts and Links
Of all the herpsters you want to slap in the uvula with a flyswatter, this is the most fly swatter uvula slapping deserving herpster of all.
The previous sentence brought to you by your third grade grammar teacher’s worst nightmare.
But Skinny Katherine offers quality hott-sweet real-world sexiness, unBleethed by the impurities in our water supply. And so there is hope after all.
Your humb narrs has new projects a’brewin’ again in the long slog world we call the H’wood grind machine. If you still hate me for Snooki, penance will be forthcoming. Either that, or Snooki 2.0.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Book Pick of the Week: “Downtown, a dress for Meg – I do it every time I kill a man.”
If you have children, no matter what you think, they are not as awesome as this child.
Talented Asian child? Yao, Please!
And to counter the stench of Wiggaz, the genius that is New Sifl and Olly Episode #1.
Riff Raff was employed by my former employer.
Ever wonder what haunts the deepest, darkest, perverted recesses of your humble narrator’s secret bondage fantasies? Now you know.
A new developing in the Bleething of America: Feather Hair.
Quadruplets identified by ‘bag head shaving. No sign of Snooki Baby.
But you are not here for Snooki Baby. You are here for Pear. Of all the submissions this week, none were more chompworthy than:
Like your grandma’s living room. Only with pear.
Caption pic chick looks like Paz de la Huerta.
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That’s all I got. Long day, here come de weekend.
Doily Pear – thanks, Boss! Glad you liked my idea (and the Pear, of course, but that wasn’t tough to guess).
Caption picture couple look like retards. Please do better next time. They are neither hot chicks nor douchebags. Please discuss amongst yourselves. And there is something disturbing about her left elbow.
If that’s real world sexiness, I just became impotent. Still, she deserves better than a pudgy, retarded ginger. Everyone does.
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I’ll pass on Snooki 2, thanks.
This cock faced dicknut reminds me of the sad day Lenny Pickett left Tower of Power for glory , fame and a high paid gig as the greatest sax player on TV for Saturday Night Live. Fuccen hair-standing-on-end altissimo riffs…..
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So the T.O.P.boys from Oakland will be at the L.A. Country Fair tonight as I watch from my box seat perch, beer and stogie in hand, pouring one out for Lenny.
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The Oakland Stroke
Check out Lenny at 2:20 in that ^ video. Mad man
Special guest star Average White Band
I’ve seen the TOP/AWB card on numerous occasions. Good shit, I says.
Is Lenny the Father of the Frolic?!?!
Skinny Katherine iz ZACHARY what I go for. I would bathe her with my tongue. SLURPAGE!
@Vin
AWB get’s down as does TOP, have fun.
Anyone else wonder if that was Sharthouse driving the get away vehicle in the “Real American Hero.” vid?. Isn’t that where he went to school?.
Mmmmm……….Doily Pear that and for some reason I feel like having tea & scrumpets, scrumpets I say.
I read that as Dolly pear. MEaning that it would either be Dolly Parton’s pear, or a woman who sneaked into a warehouse after work hours to pose on a dolly cart.
Doily pear still works though.
TOP cover song , Loveland , from their cd Great American Soulbook ,
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Featuring Sam Moore, Sir Tom Jones, big dick Huey Lewis and Joss Stone
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I find Skinny Katherine to be a compelling young lady, which worsens my opinion of whatever that thing is next to her. By *compelling* I mean I’d love to find out if she gives toothy blowjobs, and by *worsens* I mean it’d be fun to shave off half of his mustache and slap him with it taped to a baseball bat.
Short bus striped shirt begs to be arrested and thrown into real life jail where gingers are for trading cigarettes.
Holy shit! I want to pull each individual hair follicle out of that stupid fucking moustache with a pair of tweezers. However, I feel this may be a violation of the Geneva Convention. Fuck it, i dont care.
Good FTAL DB1! And by good I mean I hate Chinese prodigies.
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While we’re talking about geopolitics, do any of you realize that this violent shit going on in the east is an orchestrated manouvre to push Obama into a hawkish stance. The Machine at work is a gloriously torrid thing to watch. Am I right Hermit and DW.
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David Ickes
I don’t like to talk politics but I do feel better that the White House spokesperson said that the sodomizing and murder of a US ambassador and two other embassy personnel and the pillaging of our embassies, as well as the protests and flag burnings are NOT protests aimed at the US but outrage over a YouTube video that the administration themselves called attention to, and that nobody has seen, and according to reports from a journalist on the scene the pillagers themselves admit to not even knowing about.
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Which also makes me feel better about the president being able to go to sleep as all of this was happening, since they are telling us this isn’t about the US but outrage over a movie yet to be seen. The burning effigies of the US president certainly aren’t indications that the “Muslim Street” is dissatisfied with the US or the president himself, because the White House is telling us this is so.
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Certainly, it is a coincidence that all of this occurred on 9/11 and that marines at the embassies were told not to carry live ammo, because who would think our embassies in the middle east would be targets on 9/11? I mean the world, especially the Muslim world, LOVES the American president. He has told us so many times, so again this must be true.
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Makes total sense to me. But then again, I don’t like to talk politics. Na mean?
Very interesting and intriguing with what’s going on and I’d love to hear what Hermits feeling are on all this is. C’mon Hermit gives us the juice, we needs it.
It’s friday and Skippy here got a weekend pass out of the group home for good behavior.
What I don’t get about herpsters is that they seem to think they individualists beating to the beat of their own drum yet to mine eyes they seem like sheep dressing and behaving in the same matter whether it’s in Lawrenceville, PA, Williamsburg, NY or any other forgotten neighborhood they infiltrate. There is nothing unique about this guy.
I think DB1 is gay for them wigga cretin twins.
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Yes, there’s plenty wrong with that.
Ya know, before all this politicking I was thinking about the music biz and a story came back to me…
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The voice on the other side of the phone says, “You need to talk to so-and-so about this-and-that,” which meant I had to talk to one of the Gambino bosses about a job. So I calls my contact Frankie “Sausages” Rizzolo and he tells me he got word from someone in the Persico crew that I was needed out on the West Coast. So I booked me a flight and headed out to Tinseltown.
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When I get there the head of the crew meets me at Los Alamitos race track and tells me that I need to go see one of the bosses and take care of something havin to do with the music biz, bein that was my area of expertise. By the time I actually talk to the guy in charge the story has been run through a “Who’s Who” of fuckin LA wise guys. Stunada heads, all. The LA mob has always been a joke. Guys more worried about their tans and Goomadas than with earning. Na mean?
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Turns out the job was doin dirty work for the half-a-fag jewboy music producer named Don Kirschner. This Kirschner was a real hump. Hump, I says. He loved to drink his own urine, by the way. A real schevotz. So he has this pop group called the Monkees, which was a rip off of The Beatles. Everyone wanted to have the next Beatles back in those days. Now me, I was a Jimmy Rosselli, Sinatra, Ella and Louie kinda guy, and didn’t go for all that long-haired rock and roll stuff.
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So these Monkees had a few hits and a TV show, but the thing was they wasn’t playing their music and got all full of themselves and wanted to have more say in their fake career. My job was to convince the boys to get back to work and to fulfill their obligations to the record company. And by convince the boys to get back to work and to fulfill their obligations to the record company, I mean I told those hippy fucks that if they didn’t get back to work and make money for the Gambinos they would all be put into 65-gallon drums of acid, alive, and be sealed up in them before they was all dumped into the ocean off Catalina Island. We had four other Mo-mos all lined up as their replacements.
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The little British guy pissed his pants and started to cry; the wise guy with the woolen hat gave me some lip before I hit him in the mush with a sockful of nicklels and shrieked, cried and then bled; the blonde hippy with the chick’s haircut turned and ran and locked himself in a bathroom. This left me alone with the drummer, so I walk up to him and says, “So what’s it gonna be funnyman?” He turns and walks over to the drum set and starts playing and weeping uncontrollably. I didn’t even need Skinny D’Amato and the threat of an ass punch. A real sin.
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What a far cry from the day when Sam Giancana sent Dominic “Buffalo Head” Bucola to tell Tommy Dorsey that he had to let Sinatra leave the band. At least Dorsey was man enough to take a swing at Buffalo Head before Buffalo Head shoved Dorsey’s scrotum up his own ass. The original, “Dogs in the Bathtub,” maneuver. Dogs in the Bathtub, I says.
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Through the glass to the control room Kirschner smiled, gave me a big thumbs up and then took a big swig of his own piss outta a coffee mug whilst the fake Monkees got back to makin music. They saw my face, and they was believers.
I wonder where I saw this herpster before. Then I remember I saw him on HERE.
It’s really remarkable the display he’s making. Like a combination of aggression and retardation will ward off any suitors for his mate. It’s like what they say about not wrestling with pigs, because the pigs like it. Or that nagging fear that if you fight a guy with Down’s Syndrome, those extra chromosomes might wear off on you.
Mitt Romney is a fan if Snooki. Google it. That pretty much sums it up for me.
Well done, Wallnuts.
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Religious asshatery pisses me right the fuck off. And so does playing to religious asshats for political gain. Not a good week for civilization, and I find myself once again watching the sky in hopes of an asteroid.
Skinny Katherine looks like the kind of chick that wants to be a freaky good lay, but then is so awkward and ungraceful in the sack she ends up poking you in the eye with her big toe. Given a choice, pick the spinner every time.
Some exotic pear in the spirit of greater tolerance:
http://sajha.com/sajha/html/images/biz/4f9e0b60-fc9f-4d54-8426-f8582fb1cb92/0191.JPG
Young Mao’tzart there is dragging his right hand a bit too much. Better cut his rice ration until he tightens up his form and gets it right.
gee boss, seen Henry Winkler waterskiing cross your front lawn in leather jacket recently?
good news, if yes, Hollywood success may be just around the bend
Fuccen Garibaldi. No human should be able to do the things that dude can do sitting at a drum kit
Wallnuts, please run for Prezzie, or some kind of – well, I really enjoy your stories! That reminds me of the time when these two leggy blondes (and I mean leggy!) had the chairman cornered in a booth at the Stardust. DW was there, he can tell you first person…
DW, never question authority. If a juvenile, presidential mouthpiece tells us that all the Middle East problems are caused by a video no one saw, we should lap up the swill like a timid puppy drinks the urine of its litter mate.
Our beloved Naked Emperor took his Nobel Peace Prize, and used it to light the fuse of a predator drone missile killing a dozen Pakistani delivery boys. Then he went all gangsta’ and throttled Bin Laden with his bare hands and had his posse pronounce Jerusalem the capitol of the Middle East. The Muslim Brotherhood promptly canceled his lifetime membership and started lighting up the embassies.
We were told that by now hope and change and peace and love was to prevail, but like other fairy tales such as “millions and millions of green jobs,” and a new era of non- partisanship, it drifts away like the smoke from a thousand Utopian pipe dreams. The Machine treads hope and love beneath its feet, crushing it, like delusional grapes, into the bitter wine of reality. It welcomes violence into its parlor then rattles the cages of The Dogs of War before releasing them to devour the weak and piss on Jay Carney’s cute little nerd glasses.
Vote in November if you wish, but The Machine has the outcome predetermined. Romney is a diapered, centrist boy-child, positioned slightly to the left of Bubba and George W. trotted out by The Machine like a nervous school boy. He can no more stop the bleeding than he can stop the bubbling menstrual fluid emanating from his seven wives.
The Naked Emperor desperately tries to cling on for a second act, but second acts never go well. Nixon; resigns. Regan; senile. Clinton; impeached. Lincoln; assassinated. If re-elected, Amërikä’s economic blood will gush freely into the leaf-strewn gutters while middle-class useful idiots light paper dollars to warm their cold and crumbling hovels.
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The Machine laughs drunkenly as the walls of Zion tremble. Alone and backed onto a corner, The Twelve Tribe Leaders will sharpen their ghastly spearheads and prepare them for launch.
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BTW Carney may be right about that video. After viewing Justin Bieber on YouTube just once I burned down a Dunkin’ Donuts.
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Loves me some Hermit
he’s clenhcing a rectally inserted Coke bottle
Seriously, why are people even discussing politics on here? Nevermind that DB1 is a raging communist by most of y’all’s standards. How can you think of politics when Johnny Short Bus here had his nurse glue on a hipster ‘stache and is acting like he wants to pick a fight? Can we please stick to the topic at hand?
Seriously, if you wanna talk apocalyptic politics, go jerk off Matt Drudge or something. Don’t pollute yet another corner of the Internet. We’re anti-pollution here, at least the cultural kind. Ya dig?
I agree with Mr. Biggs.
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Besides, you Canadian fucks oughtta be out ice fishing or peeing in mooses, or some shit.
the Machine is still laughing…
I dunno, Biggs – some of the political mumbo jumbo ’round here is pretty funny. As long as we all assume none of that shit is as important as the Mock.
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For instance none of the sidetracking has fracked my reaction to Short Bus Johnny and Skinny Kimmie up there in that pic.
I’m not one for political discussions usually unless its clowning on how stupid Sarah Palin is and making fun of John McCain’s weird cheek thing. That being said I don’t think politics should necessarily be banned from discussion here. I mean politicians are some of the biggest douchebags out there. Stealing our hotts, taking pictures of their peens, getting their dicks sucked at work by the help… I mean c’mon.
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Nice one Hermit. How long has it been since you’ve touched a woman? Judging by your in depth analysis, too long.
I agree. Politics should never be discussed in this forum.
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@ Teabagger . You’d be surprised. I’ve had women become moist with passion when I lay a little geopolitical Machine rap on them while standing in the checkout line at the local grocery store.
Do dead women count?
@Hermit, only if you fucked her to death. Okay, picture how you feel now, then go have super amazing sex and then picture how it would feel when that person tells you that they can’t have any more super amazing sex…now get ready for this one because its a doozy…because all the cool kids are masterbating. And while you’re picturing that, I’ll picture you macking on a lady with the opening line, “So, how about that Machine, huh?” followed by one of your rants.
hermit: you are my hero.
Someone send me an email once this place returns to its mocking senses and stops being a retarded version of Free Republic.
The douche in the photo thinks he’s a bunny. He even poops hard little pellets. And Skinny Kimmie? She’s 5ft 10in of awkward joy. She’s a little clumsy, but she’s big enough that she can take it up the ass with little trouble, and her long neck means lots of room for deep oral. Then, just as you’re about to unleash a torrent of baby batter, she falls off the bed, her elbow hits the tray full of champagne and glasses, and she waps the side of her head on the wall and yelps “owie ow ow ow”. You help her up, lick all the champagne off her, and then fuck her silly. Of course, next morning she’s got a shiner and everyone thinks you beat her up. And as you leave the office of the No Tell Motel, the checkout clerk just gives you this nasty look and mutters something like “god damn asshole wife beater dick wad…”
So you take her to breakfast at the Denny’s by the interstate and she puts on her sunglasses, which makes her look like a bleeth indoors. Nobody wins, the coffee is so weak it surrenders to the ice water which is cloudy with whatever they put in it to keep you from dying of dysentery, the eggs are flavourless and greasy, the hash browns are room temperature and as you gaze into her sunglasses, she touches your hand, because she thinks you’re all kinds of awesome for not laughing at her when she fell out of bed and made such a mess, and you smile back at her, because even though she has all the grace and finesse of a blind mule hopped up on Red Bull, you know she’s basically a sweetie pie, and is more than capable and happy to do all those things the little 5ft 2in spinner you dated last year couldn’t and wouldn’t do for love or money.