Comment of the Week
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Saturday, July 27, 2013
Comment of the Week: Troy Tempest
For sheer creative genius, lets get a Comment of the Week award to the great Troy Tempest for this rant in The Smirkonomous Looks Forward to seeing “Carlos Danger” thread:
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I swear that photo is from 1986. He’s got the greasy post-glam brylcream Rick Astley joins a boy goth band look to him. I can see him sneering there. She’s drunk and thinks that if she can stare at the camera hard enough (she took her contacts out and forgot her glasses) she might make it to the lens. To cover the fact she can’t see a damn thing because she’s (a) myopic and (b) f@##in’ hammered as a couple of Jersey Shore pile driven beach pylons, she figures she’ll pull some magic distraction and practice a vampy over the shoulder look so as to distract the camera from noticing that she has no idea where the camera is. Of course when the flash went off all she could see was Neptune every time she closed her eyes, because Neptune is close to Uranus.
And he’s so completely preoccupied with unknown unknowns that he wants to move to East Berlin and tend his goats, Chuggie, Max, and Doorlock. That’s what the brylcream does to you – it turns you into a kooky grease dump wailing, “PARANOIA! Sing to the Ducks! PANIC! Nothing left for you! “CRUST!”
And when you finally wake up in the WIFI haze of a day well spent and no one wants to talk to you except animal Jesus and his tra la la machine. It’s not so bad when the buzzards don’t act up, but they’re young and dumb and that’s what they’ll do – then, They Spill The Beans.
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This is the deal: there is no future that is not already in the present – it is our recognition of our world as it has succumbed to the thought virus of property: pull the plug boys, he’s done. And what did you tell me? What did you say? That it’s just a language game _ yes and it is the language games that threaten us today. Retreat! Before it’s too late!
Don’t listen to truth statements – they lie. Speak of the inutterable Dogma of Madness.
The ignorance of madness is the highest and hardest ignorance, because it is the most ‘concrete’ of brutalisms. The significance of that ‘absolute’ commandment, ignore thyself — whether we look at it in itself or under the historical circumstances of its first utterance — is not to promote mere self-ignorance in respect of the particular capacities, character, propensities, and foibles of the single self. The ignorance it commands means that humanity’s genuine illusion — of what is essentially and ultimately curious and imaginary — of madness, is the curious and essential being. Equally insignificant is the purport of crazy dogma to teach what is called the ignorance of people — the ignorance whose aim is to ignore the peculiarities, passions, and foibles of other people, and lay bare what are called the recesses of the human heart. Information of this kind is, for one thing, meaningless, unless on the assumption that we ignore the universal; humanity as humanity, and, as it always must be, as madness. And for another, being only engaged with casual, insignificant and uncurious aspects of a crazy life, it fails to reach the underlying essence of them all — Madness itself.
So don’t talk to ME about your dialectics! Your world is an affective nightmare of missed scents and missing senses. I challenge you – I challenge you all to talk it like you mean it and walk it like you seen it.Because BUTTERLFIES!
Memory is an addiction.
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Saturday, July 20, 2013Comment of the Week: Dude McCrudeshoes
HCwDB’s own Doucheywallnuts went on a bender last night with Frank and the boys, so we’ll take the time to hand out one of the coveted HCwDB Comments of the Week awards.
This week’s award goes to Dude McCrudeshoes for the following, written in the Hackeysack Dave ‘Bag/Nottabag thread:
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The last Diehard was an abomination, J.
Reminds me that I’m looking forward to Pacific Rim. No not that one. The monster movie. I’m pretty sure Del Toro is hip enough to get the double entendre and I dig him for sticking with the title.
Way back before the days of skipping second period to get baked in my buddies car. Even before the days I had to masturbate furiously for hours to the image of a single, silky brown pube poking out from the side of my girlfriend’s bikini bottoms… I remember being a boy of about 6. Rainy afternoons I’d sometimes pull out a container of cheap “made in Taiwan” plastic monsters and dinosaurs that I’d collected a dime at time from coin-op vending machines. Drop in a coin, twist the dial, and get a plastic egg shaped container with a critter inside.
What do plastic monsters and dinosaurs like to do? Team up and fight to the death for new good reason. That’s what. Dialog was mostly triumphant roars and the whimpers of the mortally wounded waiting for their death blows. And after the pink and yellow colored dudes, and silly looking dudes with lobster claws, or the dudes that got broken and were fighting injured went to the great monster bin in the sky, some righteous blue colored dragon or tyrannosaurus would be the ultimate monster fighting champion. And he’d be entitled to a victory stomp on the corpses of the vanquished.
I’d go back to those days in a second. Even if it meant mom would still in the next room drunk on boxed wine and ready to explode. I’d go back. So bring on Pacific Rim, I don’t care if it is geared toward 10 year old retards. I’m gonna watch it.
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Saturday, June 1, 2013Comment of the Week: Tits McGee
We haven’t done a lot of Comments of the Week around here lately, mainly due to the fact that I’m lazy as hell. And while I read all the comments and enjoy the continuing genius of the long time ‘bag hunters, I always feel kinda bad about selecting just one comment to win the week.
But hells, since Walnuts After Dark never showed up this week, this trophy goes to Tits McGee for making me feel good about HCwDB Year 7 in the “Game of Barstools” thread:
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I’m pretty sure this broad ranks her Friday night plans on a scale from Maserati to Maybach. The human cud around whom she is wrapped in this picture would probably pay his hypothetical friends to compliment him while they stare at his bare chest.
This picture made me unjustifiably angry on a day which was supposed to be a joyous romp filled with Vicodin and Four Loko.
And yet I check this site more religiously than most religious people check their moral superiority.
Tithe.
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Saturday, January 5, 2013Comment of the Week: Aristotle
“Anybody can become angry – that is easy. But to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy. Especially when the Sharkbag is macking on Tiny Mayan-Eye-of-Coitus Giggle Booble Fondles.”
– Aristotle
Saturday, December 8, 2012Comment of the Week: Mr. Scrotato Head
Like a younger and more innocent pre-face-tatt Mack the Nozzle, Mr. Head brings the verbal smackdown in the My Daily Checklist thread and and wins the coveted HCwDB of the Week:
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Why the Hell do they need watches? You need a watch to maintain a schedule. To get to work on time. To be there for someone when they need you to help move furniture, or paint a bedroom. Knowing the time contributes to a well lived life.
You don’t need a watch to pick up your welfare check; you just check the mail-box every time you run out of Cup-O-Noodles. You don’t need a watch to know when the club opens; you just wait until its dark and your thirst for liquor is running rampant. You don’t need a watch to have sex because anyone can count ten seconds, even middle school drop outs. You might need a watch to buy a tattoo, but only a stolen watch so you can pawn it to pay for the tattoo.
You know when you’ll see a douchebag look at the satellite dish on his wrist and proclaim, “Drat, sorry chaps but I must be going. The touring display of pre-Scankophile vagina castings is opening tonight at the ‘Met and I simply can’t be late as they’ve asked me to say a few words and pose for some photos.”
That’s right. Never.
If you’re really really lucky you might see one look down at his watch with furrowed browl, call his bro over and complain, “I forget, does I get beer when the little hand is on the loopy number or on the one number what makes the sex joke when you put it with the other number?”
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Saturday, December 1, 2012Comment of the Week: Vin Douchal
V.D. breaks down the Asshole McAssholewitz pairing and wins the coveted HCwDB Comment of the Week:
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These two are great. An Inland Empire love story
Soon, Karyn, the Slots Area waitress at Fitzgeralds, will decide that her eggs ain’t getting any stronger, what with the meth use, bad nutrition and long list of questionable sex partners and realize that maybe she’s ready to snare a mate.
She’ll have her IUD secretly taken out and McAssholewitz becomes “The Choice”. She loves the feel of sitting behind him on his Yamaha 240 He’s got a job, well sorta, as he is the bar back at the big strip club. He takes home well over $30 a night in shared tips on top of his minimum wage salary and at least there’s a health insurance plan (although the $5000 yearly deductible seems like Mt Everest).
She realizes after six months that she should be pregnant by now so at the free clinic she signs up for an experimental fertility treatment touted as “Las Vegas’ Most Discreet Planned Parenthood Office”. BOOM!, the treatment works and twins are on the way
The happy day arrives as McAssholewitz, awful tattoos sprouting out around the delivery room scrub shirt, sees his two spawn for the first time, both girls to his dismay
They name them “Hashtag” and Retweet” . His dispair knows no bounds as the screaming is multiplied exponentialy with every smelly diaper, spit up incident and 4:00 A.M. feeding
He leaves her, moving back with his buddies in Rubidoux. Her four month old poo and wailing machines drive her to the point of exhaustion until finally she is forced to move back home with her dissapointed mother, a school cafeteria worker in the Jurupa School District. She weighs 84 pounds
The D.A. of Riverside County spends the next 17 years and 8 months chasing McAssholewitz for child support payments and suspends his drivers license every other month.
McAssholewitz, now a spent, talentless, terribly ugly, friendless, unemployable middle aged lump of his former self signs the back of his $223 welfare check then says “Screw it” and eats the barrel of a .45 in his 400 square foot basement apartment in Moreno Valley. The M.E. team jokes about ” a helluva wall splatter.
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Saturday, November 24, 2012Comment of the Week: Miler
Okay, it’s not from a thread, but as we approach the 30 year anniversary of one of the greatest philosophical treatises of our time, Repo Man, this Bud’s for Miller:
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A lot o’ people don’t realize what’s really going on. They view life as a bunch o’ unconnected incidents ‘n things. They don’t realize that there’s this, like, lattice o’ coincidence that lays on top o’ everything.
Give you an example; show you what I mean: suppose you’re thinkin’ about a plate o’ shrimp. Suddenly someone’ll say, like, plate, or shrimp, or plate o’ shrimp out of the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin’ for one, either.
It’s all part of a cosmic unconciousness.
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Saturday, November 17, 2012Comment of the Week: Jonezy
The great Jonezy describes the paradox of the real world crazy stalker chick in the Virtues of Shelfishness thread and wins the coveted Comment of the Week:
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She has the Eye of Crazy Stalker chick that says “I hate drama” and “my last boyfriend was psycho” before she tries to trap you with fake pregnancies, STD scares, and myriad unanswered texts where she hates you, loves you, hates you again, just wants us to be together because we’re perfect for each other, without nary a response, and then you have to change your number and perhaps even your address, and then she still contacts your family, all while she’s out banging some d-bags at the club every night to fill the void you’ve left… eyes.
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Not that it’s ever happened to me or anything.
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Saturday, November 10, 2012Comment of the Week: The Reverend Chad Kroeger
Drunken Canadian layabout and verbal thespian, The Reverend Chad Kroeger, muses on the voting proccess in the Boaty Bobby Voted… thread and wins the coveted HCwDB of the Week:
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DB1 has done his civic duty. And by civic duty I mean 10 beautious gluteus maximii. Fuck I wish I could get drunk and go pull one of them fancy handles youse got in your voting booths. All we got is a post-it note paper check box system, but it works. Almost.
Democrats
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Saturday, November 3, 2012Comment of the Week: Ich verstehe sie ist heiß
The Germanic ‘bag hunter Ich verstehe sie ist heiß wins the coveted Comment of the Week with this short, but to-the-point, observation after observing the collection of disgrace in the Tatts, Trash, and Pensivity thread:
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This is going to be the worst bukakke video ever.
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Yes.
Yes it is.
