Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Undersexed World of Jacques Doucheteau

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Today I got full on blindsided by the flu, WHAM! And it seems to be centered around my colon. Yes, I have the usual eye splitting headache like a nasally ex-girlfriend who’s way into cosmetics and Real Housewives, feverish chills, crawling skin, and body aches coupled with the general grossness of feeling like I just got compacted in the back of a garbage truck…but the evil, evil things it’s creating in my ass is unequivocally other-worldly in its appearance, sound, and stench.

It started off innocently enough this morning with some gas and a normal-consistency poo that was so grand in its stature and voluminousness, that I had to raise my chair a notch after sitting back down at my desk afterwards. I was even forced to give the sucker a preventative breaking apart with the plunger to make sure it flushed all down without issue. The farting continued however, becoming increasingly noxious and violent, until it reached a fevered pitch and crescendo when I s#!t my pants. Before I could waddle back to the restroom, the fever set in, and I excused myself from work to go home and take a shower.

That shower has done me a whole hell of a lot of NO GOOD AT ALL, as I’ve been blowing chunky brown urine out my puckered starfish every fifteen minutes for the past five or six hours. Personal hygiene will have to take a backseat so that proper hydration can keep me from dying.

And so I hunched over my laptop with a cup of peppermint tea and a fist full of Imodium, and perused the interwebs in search of a picture with which to appropriately convey my sad, desperate physical state. This silly little Heineken-fueled suaré in the Lagoon of Caustic Ships seems appropriate enough, though it’s hard to tell through my blurred vision and the wrenching gut pain. Judging by the trees in the background, this floating get-together is taking place in a subtropical climate, no doubt on some swampy pollutant and microbe infested lake, half of which was spewed out my ass early this afternoon. Though bouncy-boobled gigging Tammy’s concave tummy is definitely worthy of some light paddling and a spackle rub-down, I have not the energy nor gastrointestinal stability to dedicate towards a well focused lusting.

I also can’t find it in me to initiate a sound mocking of Big-Shouldered Dave and his pancake nipples as they slowly engulf his persistently sagging moobs. Even Crawdad Dan there just isn’t inspiring me with enough disgust and scorn to make proper fun of his Sarah Palin sunglasses, complete lack of nipples, untanned belly crease and oh my GOD IN HEAVEN WHAT THE F@%K IS HE WEARING FOR SHORTS!?!?!?!?!?!

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this guy that he would wear $5 board shorts sold at the airbrush booth in the mall? If given no other alternative, I would rather wear the boxers I completely destroyed this morning on the outside of my pants while on a date with Julie Banderas than let anyone I know ever wear shorts like that.

————-

# posted by heywtf
3:26 pm January, 17 DarkSock said...

Corn-fed heifers is nice.

.

Jacques = a human Mr. Coffee machine. Time to trot out the olde Olestra Haiku once more.

.

Bad Rex ate my chips

Now tries to escape his ass

Circling endlessly

%%

Gym class in minutes

Olestra chips at lunchtime

Deep knee bends are out

%%

The Tidy Bowl man

Mourns in silence for days past

Free of oily goo

%%

Office party hell

I laugh and slip a small fart

What’s that in my shoe?

%%

Constipation? No!

With friends such as olestra

Who needs enemas?

%%

Get back into life

with Depends is the mantra

of olestra zen

%%

Methane tornado

my bowels explode into

stinky brown mudslide

%%

Daily I eat chips

thinner, thinner, I crave it

my poop flies like birds

%%

Olean Warrior

Strode quickly and mightily

Bee-line to the john

%%

Americans love

Yes, we eat the fat demon

Sell our fat for poop

%%

Paying the fare with

olestra chips I ride the

Porcelain Trolley

4:31 pm January, 17 Vin Douchal said...

I would take bath in a year’s worth of Pete Rose’s tobacco spit with a honey bager’s teeth clamped on my taint while listening to Richard Simmons sing along to the soundtrack of “Annie” through a 1978 desktop 8-track player with a blown speaker just to have the homeless drifter that picks Julie Banderas’ garbage man’s truck wring out a three day old menses soaked tampon in my nostrils

4:35 pm January, 17 Vin Douchal said...

Forum with Julie Banderas photos and a YouTube of her in the Librarian Hott Look

5:22 pm January, 17 Scooby Douche said...

Can’t get on that Banderas bandwagon. Not when we in L.A. have these to watch every night:

http://www.pubclub.com/LosAngeles/weathergirls.htm

5:37 pm January, 17 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

Oh, Jillian Barberie. My cock stands on guard for thee.

And Jacques must be delirious with his focus on male nipple size.

5:39 pm January, 17 Steve said...

Blonde on the left is pulling in her stomach.

5:47 pm January, 17 The Dude said...

Candy Cane boobie hott on the left has first dibs on my Can-do cane.

.

Pauvre Jacques! Pauvre Jacques!

Douchez-vous? Douchez vous?

What about the douchebags? What about the douchebags?

Fermez-la! Fermwz-la!

.

I didn’t spell check my improvised French…nor should you

5:52 pm January, 17 Et Tu Douche? said...

Candy Cane boobie hott, sucking her gut in, is a big girl and I bet exuberant in the sack. Me likey.

6:42 pm January, 17 Charles Douchewin said...

Behold: Broseph and the amazing technicolor dreamshorts!

.

That look like a technicolor yawn.

7:07 pm January, 17 DoucheyWallnuts said...

Jacques possess the unique gift of being able to chronicle and relate to the masses the details of a horrendous gastric experience complete with total intestinal failure and replete with fecal repugnance. Replete, I says.

7:11 pm January, 17 Jacques Doucheteau said...

I do tend to obsess on male nipples (as opposed to ABSCESS on male nipples) too often. But why not? Men baring their nipples callously and without regard for modesty is worth of our mocking.

.

If women are expected to cover up their nipples from public display, then so too should the men!

.

Now if women are allowed, nay, encouraged to gallantly let the world bear witness to their succulent missile tips, then I suppose men can also be permitted to expose their gross little hairy flickers. I’m willing to take some bad along with that which is overwhelmingly good.

11:55 am January, 18 Troy Tempest said...

Doucheteau does have GI problems, an I wish him a speedy recovery. It could be worse, he could have an anal fissure, and name it Bob.

http://www.anus.com/etc/anal-fissure-bob/

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