Friday thoughts and links
As I author this week’s Thoughts and Links from my thinking loft at Sock Manor, it appears to me that Pointy Pointdexter here either is trying to literally make a point, or he’s waiting for that booger to dry up and flake off. Either way, Terri Tautness stands by his side, giddy with glee and oblivious to this sentient poo that aims to brown her supple loins with his ruddy baggery.
This is why we fight. Tune in for the Saturday edition for another reason why we fight.
Here’s your Friday Links, Son:
Mid-Century illustrator Art Frahm, who toiled away in obscurity in the 50’s, knew only two things: drawing dames with great gams, and the destructive effects of celery on the elastic waistbands of female panties. Even super-heroine’s squirrel covers.
I am lobbying DB1 for space in his forthcoming 2023 Guggenheim exhibit for some of my own work. I mounted a horse once.
Sure, you all knew that your daily visits to this site gives you 100% of the USDA recommended levels of revulsion and Renob…but did you know this site could help you live an additional 4 years via staring longingly at boobies? Just don’t stare at jogging boobies or you’ll wind up like this guy.
Here’s the perfect gift for that Broheim in your life who has less chest hair than a fetal pig: Now he can instantly look like real men. Or Ron Jeremy. Especially if you ever rip it…
Speaking of Furry Things, did you ever want to process your own unicorn meat? Well now you can. First, you loosen the bung. It’s not as easy as it looks. Ummm…this is kind of harsh; boy that escalated quickly.
Forget all that. You’re not here for Furries and Unicorn meat (except possibly Goolo); you’re here for Pear. Very well:
You Really Have To Hand It To Her Pear
Them’s your links. Tune in this weekend for gratuitous pear; enough to extend your life 8 years.
Does Pear staring extend your life too?
Oh precious Katie Holmes’s younger, fresher sister. I would stick my arm in Tom Cruise’s ass up to the elbow to help him re-experience painful past life events, while his stimulated prostate causes him to shoot a load into John Travolta’s willing mouth as Kirsty Alley and Leah Remini ride a double ended dildo teeter totter across the corpse of L. Ron Hubbard, just for the chance to play a space opera on your trim tummy with my turgid twat tickler.
Props to the Sock for serving up such HoH worthy delicacies all week long. The Boss is getting lazy.
The blue font is terrible!
I’m Sofa King horny.
@Dude
It definitely extends something.
Pear was so awesome. Didn’t notice if D.S. included any links?
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yoga pants
I’ve been staring at and getting completely arroused by Celery Supergirl.
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She’s got that next door, loudmouth broad that waters the lawn in a belly teeshirt with little rips near the nips and really short cut-offs (so short the front pockets are completely exposed) that “accidentally” sprays the front of her top while yelling at her toddler to ” Stay in the fucking yard! ” and looks over and mouths Sorry that I caught her as her areolae poke to the sky, then she decides it’s a good time to bend over and pull some non-existent weeds since I just saw her old man pay through the nose for a re-sod a month ago giving me a good shot at whatever can stick out around her thong…..
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Suburbia has it’s benefits
I humped a love seat once
Here’s some naked pictures of me below.
I spent the afternoon in an MRI run by a very perky nurse.
Here you can see my upper spinal cord, impinged upon by several discs so that it looks like a kid’s bike’s handlebar grips:
Here you see my lower spinal cord; the dark spots near the bottom are where another disc bulge is about to pinch my lower spine in half like a nerve turd. They wanted to scan lower but my cockk was too large to allow me to go into the machine any further.
Lesser men, such as yourselves, would already be writhing in pain and riding wal-mart scooters. I, however, will go lift weights tonight as usual. I am the Last of the Full-Grown Men and I shrug off pain with my testosterone.
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And by testosterone I mean fistfuls of codeine and oxycontin.
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I am going to direct the neurosurgeon to simply amputate my neck. If I learned anything from this site, it’s that silicone-teat bleethes will auto-fuck any man without a neck.
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Humpers.
I had the discectomy at L-4/L-5 in 2001. Went from non-stop crying on the floor in the fetal position with agonizing pain down the sciatic nerves through both legs to where it felt like some asshole jammed knives in the bottom of my feet to instantly, completely painless for over 11 years .
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It was like a miracle. Miracle I says. I told them it still hurt so I got like 3 years worth of vicodin out of them …. suckers
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Fix that shit, Sock. It’s as easy as getting a filling at the dentist nowadays. And don’t let them talk you into any of that laser bullshit… You can sell that left over Oxy at the high school when the pain stops
Oh, I intend to come out of surgery wailing “Dear Jeebus it hurts WORSE, gimme a bucket o’ pills”
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I will sell them to the ex and thusly pay for the surgery.
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In the interim I can get relief on lower back stress through cockk reduction surgery; I reckon cut it back to 11″, and shave it back to 8″ circumference; maybe cut off the foreskin; that’ll get 80 pounds of weight off the lumbar right there. And I can start fucking human women instead of Clydesdales.
Well done, ‘sock.
Deep thought of the day:
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If men had dicks on their feet there’d be a lot more ass-kickings in the world.
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High Steppers.
Had two surgeries, the last in ’96. Worked for about five years but one game of basketball and I was all fucked up again. There have been times when I literally had to lower myself from the bed and crawl to the bathroom. Last MRI showed two inoperable crushed discs. I eat ibuprofin by the handfull and snort powdered Celebrex through stainless steel surgical tubing. They injected cortisone and bootleg Chinese stem cells into my spine but it played hell with my central nervous system causing me to experience wild, homoerotic dreams featuring Slim Pickens and the Ohio State men’s volleyball team.
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Next step will be spinal fusion. Unless I can find a mule fetus spine implant donor.
I broke this here wrist in 5th grade. Now when a storms up and a brewing it hurts like a sum bitch. I have to take 10 Benydrl and 18 Midol just to bring it down to a gentle stabbing pain.
I got some home-grown hospital cryovac female stem cells for sale. Type-Bitchy. 10 years old.
mule fetus spine implant = awesome death metal band name
somebody really loves deformed asses on this site
Rifftype…
I noticed this really great post today….