Tuesday, March 26, 2013
"Love and Body Spray"
I hereby deem thee an artistic amalgam of all that is smelly in greater Long Island, and hereby bequeath this image to my show at the Guggenheim in 2023.
I hereby deem thee an artistic amalgam of all that is smelly in greater Long Island, and hereby bequeath this image to my show at the Guggenheim in 2023.
Advertise on HCwDB!
Email to learn more
Advertise on HCwDB! Email to learn more
Links:
Copyright © 2010-2012 HCwDB Entertainment, Inc.
Los Angeles Website Design by ST8 Creative Los Angeles WordPress development by Frosty Web Designs
That smell is three week old socks, a hamper full of them.
In this weeks episode of Suburban Fairy Tales the part of Prince Charming will be played by a roided Douchebag with a large watch. Cinderella’s pumpkin is actually a ’92 Dodge.
If you severed his torso below the navel and committed him to 6 months of hard training, involving positive reinforcement through bacon strips, I’ll bet that motherfucker could hand-run faster than Usain Bolt.
.
Uphill.
.
Handymen.
This dame reminds me of a Yenta from Scarsdale that I used to schtupp during the summer of 1961 up at Grosingers in the Catskills. She hung out backstage hoping to get a glimpse of Corbett Monica, Morty Gunty or Jerry Vale, but instead got a glimpse of my schvantz thrice daily. She had a bush on her like the hair on Larry Fine’s head, but smelled like macaroons and tsimmis, and rather than smoke after sex would eat an entire serving of kreplach. Her name was Ethel something-or-other…Ah, the good old days…
where dat azz
Don’t go after that one, xoffender – she’s bleethed.
Mmmmm, kreplach,…
I’d fiddle on her roof.
.
Schvantzes
I’d make her Governor, Chris Christie, write my doo-doo a letter. Child.
.
10 points to Griffindor for whomever can verify the source of that quote. Without Googling. Honour System, with the Limey spelling. Son.
.
Callipygians.
I’m drunk. And off to my ‘bation station.
.
And shit.
.
Son.
If your watch is as big as your woman’s “enhanced” titties…you might be a douchebag.
If your biceps are larger than your big-booty woman’s upper thighs…you might be a douchebag.
If your Jersey Blow-Out is taller than your front yard hedges…You might be a douchebag.
.
.
.
The gauntlet has been thrown.
.
Sons.
Choadscrote H.S. (NJ) Class of ’03 is having its 10-year class reunion/Prom this summah, and dis couple is gettin’ ready ta make a splash dere.
.
“Yeah, dis is wut I’m wearin’, ya fags! What of it? Don’t my girl look fuccen hot? Every fuccen guy dere’s gonna wanna fuck her, and dey all did back in da day, and I fucked all dere bitches, too!”
.
Ah, memories.
Yeah, Wheezer, but here’s the down-side of fuccen Jersey Goils:
The stench of hair gel and old gym sweat ooze from this poignant work of post modern art. Notable is the distance between the lips of the subjects, signifying Western Man’s increasing lack of meaningful intimacy and his ever-widening psychological disconnect.
This gap can be measured, physically in inches, but represents a chasm whose ethereal void contains narcissm and Valtrex®.