ab-baggery
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Saturday, June 8, 2019
H.R. Giger Pufnstuf Hawks Jenni-Lynn
Retch-worthy ab overdevelopment fungal growth presented in arrogant post-chodal crotch pose strikes the harpsichord of wankosity like a feral Jerry Lewis on paint thinner.
And yes, that sentence makes perfect sense.
Read backwards in the mirror, Jenni-Lynn’s tatts are Swahili for komboucha.
Monday, November 4, 2013Toungled Up in Blue
Early one morning the douche was scroting
I was clubbin’ in bed,
Wond’ring if she’d changed it all
If her butt bobble was still red
Her folks they said our bottle service together
Sure was gonna be Grey Goose,
They never did like Mama’s homemade drugs
Papa’s shlongwater wasn’t big enough
And the DJ was standing on the side of the road
Spittle falling on my Vans
Heading out for the velvet rope
Lord knows I’ve fondled some butts getting through
Toungled up in blue.
That’s right, beyoch. Bob Dylan references. Cuz I’m totally in sync with the zeitgeist, yo! Like a postmodern Bieber.
Monday, January 21, 2013Monday Crisis. And AbaCrab.
DarkSock here at the helm again, with ominous news.
Our hairless leader, DB1, aka Jay Louis, lies in a coma.
He was found late last night surrounded by a halo of empty Night Train bottles and what appeared to be an empty footlocker once filled with hoarded Hostess™ treats such as Ho-Hos and Twinkies. His shiftless mass was buried under a translucent shroud of shucked snack food wrappers.
He now lies in state in a Los Angeles hospital in a diabetic coma. It is not clear if this was a drunken binge or an attempt to end the crushing despair following the collapse of the corn syrup giant that until recently spewed forth such tasty treats. Given that he posted the news of the downfall of Hostess as “The End Of Joy”, he is now on suicide watch.
Until we know more, we must carry on, wayward sons. With Mock.
Take for example the dongle in the adjacent photograph, whom I’ve named “AbaCrab”.
Six pound watch, gratuitous display of his torso, which has been shorn more hairless than a fetal pig’s belly, and of course the dangerously over-siliconed girlfriend exacting endless revenge on Daddy, who cared more for SportsCenter™ than her.
What say you, faithful readers? Dissect this crass display, as always, in the comments section. In the meantime I shall endeavor to tirelessly comb DB1’s filthy apartment in the hopes for some sort of sign, some tiny clue, as to where he has stashed his Vicodin™.
Oh…almost forgot…Gratuitous Pear.
Monday, May 16, 2005Self Worship Fraiku
Sky-Bro is so hawt
He just came in his own dick;
“Am I gay?”, he asks…
