Freak
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Friday, July 29, 2011
Dried Alpaca Fecal Matter
That reminds me.
Did I remember to hose out the dried fecal matter from the alpaca pen last night?
Friday, May 27, 2011PETER PUMPIN’HEAD AND MARY MAMMAGEDDON SAY: HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND!
Peter Pumpin’Head and the little Missus want to wish you all a happy Memorial Day weekend, since Baron Von Goolo failed to make mention of it in his FT&L (The Baron is a transplant from the Old Country, after all, and is still catching up to our quaint New World customs).**
It is fitting that these two take us into the Memorial Day festivities, because just as the rituals and celebrations of the holiday remind us of why we as a nation must fight, these two self-tan-slathered raging ids remind us of why we ‘baghunters fight.
Look at them.
LOOK AT THEM.
I mean look at him and her, you perverts.
Self-worshiping peacockery pushed to a hyperbolic extreme, both in taste, hue and physics.
The cost for freedom isn’t free; it’s a buck o’ five.
But throughout the ages, attention sponges such as these have gladly suffered mutilation in order to achieve the rest of society’s assumed collective envy and admiration, and that cost is even more than a buck o’ five. It is higher; much higher. Much much higher. But not as high as the cost of bottle service at the Rehab poolside cabanas.
**EDIT – OK, Baron did mention Memorial Day. I just wanted an excuse to run this picture before my time’s up. Damn you and your crafty ways, Medusa… -D.S.
Friday, May 27, 2011The Smirking Rooster
What do The Smirking Rooster and Scarlet O’Hair have in common, besides an affinity for Lady Clairol “Paint The Town Red #044”?
Why, they both love exotic pet birds of course!
She’d like a cockatiel, and he’d like a cockatoo.
Sorry.
Friday, May 27, 2011Friday Haiku
Dialing in the sounds,
Jen’s pale human boombox has
Rectal subwoofer.
Ahab’s grandaughter,
Pinches nipple of White Whale,
Moby’s Dick gets hard.
– Hermit
We have brotha-bags
Hipster-bags, All kinds of bags
Is this Farmer-bag?
– Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifeit
Chazz Bono’s pool time
Causes others to throw up
“Pool Closed- Ten Minutes”
– Vin Douchal
Albino walrus,
Lets loose with a mighty roar,
Where is my seal club?
– Rockabilly Johnny and the Electric Foreskin Benders
Check out this jukebox
you twist his nipple to play
but it’s all Great White.
– Medusa Oblongata
Peter Pumpin’Head and Mary Mammageddon
Exaggerated ex·ag·ger·at·ed (v) 1. Enlarged or altered beyond normal or due proportions.
Ludicrous lu·di·crous (adj) 1. Amusing or laughable through obvious absurdity, incongruity or exaggeration.
Grotesque gro·tesque (n) 1. A very ugly or comically distorted figure, creature, or image.
Wow. Just Wow.
So…I remember the time as Wee Sock in 1978 in the outskirts of Town when Momma took me to the “California Concept” barber shop. It was a classic late-70’s “butt-cut” hair-do factory (think Bruce Jenner, or Jackson Browne) and I was there to get a “big boy” haircut.
As I sat in the chair I faced the mirror in front of me, which reflected the wall mirror on the cutting station opposite me, I realized that I could see myself stretching on into an infinite reflection between the two grease-sheened surfaces.
I ponder if that’s what’s going on here. Peter Pumpin’Head and Mary Mammageddon: two textbook narcissists, staring into one another, not seeing the other but rather themselves refracted off of the slick glossy sheen of their own ego; their strutting ids run amok, flexing in the funhouse mirrors of each other’s thin magazine-glossy souls.
Peter Pumpin’Head does not see Mary”; nay. Rather he envisions himself strutting into the night club with this uber-candy on his swole-assed arm; all heads turn to look…at Him. Egoasm!
Same for her; bounce into the club with heels high and blouse straining, all heads turning, aaand cue the silicone dome theme song:
My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,
And they’re like –
“It’s better than yours,
Damn right it’s better than yours…”
Ah, but yes.
If you will excuse me now, I must go stick my head into an oven.
A toaster oven.
Do what it is that you do, my comrades. Existentially dissect these specimens for answers. And by “answers” I mean “giggles”.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011A Benny Shaved…
…is a Benny spurned.
In a world where we’ve won the good fight, anyway. Sadly, in this world, Benny Bones Betty, Beverly and Brenda.
Damn you, Benny; may you find out that you’re the only one in this group that’s shaved.
Sunday, May 22, 2011The Ballad of Hal E. Tosis and Jenny Talia
Hal’s poor eye wear choice makes him look like the demented love child of Jimmy Fallon and a bleached KarmaKaze pilot.
Jenny’s poor choice in hook-ups make her look like Mariah I-Don’t-Carey – complete with twins. For her, I would gratefully write out palimony checks while extolling the virtues of vitamin E for her lovely creamy and supple epidermis as I gazed zen-like into her uncaring gum-smacking visage, like a doomed cockroach crooning to the uncaring anthropomorphic face of a vintage 30’s wooden Emerson radio.
Damn, a splash of single-barrel Kentucky bourbon and a teenie-tiny Ambien pill chewed slowly with malice like it was the fiery nipple of Mother Anger, and these after-hours soliloquies just write themselves.
Wait…After Hours…but…it’s the weekend…Ummm….carry on.
Sunday, May 22, 2011‘Bag / Nottabag
Is Kareem here encroaching into stage one ‘baggery? Or does he exceed the height limit for douchebags??
Will he and his woman be forever doomed to 68’ing one another (she does him, and he owes her one) due to incompatible sexual modularities?
Did I run this photo on the flimsiest of excuses just to showcase naughty-sweet Greta, who looks like a young Margot Kidder done right?
You must answer these questions in the comment thread as always. As I type with one hand. If you know what I mean.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011Does This Look Infected? (Medusa Oblongata Editorial)
And now we have a public service message from our very own Bubonic Gorgonic, the loverly Medusa Oblongata:
Douchal infection, we posit here at HCWDB, starts at the very core.
Like a rot, it spreads slowly from the inside, killing all that is good and alive and pure, blackening like a mold, decaying, necrotizing what it intercepts. What happens, then, when this parasitic intruder reaches the surface of its host?
So begins the changes to the exterior, the addition of what are known the adouchetrements. However, mere accessories belie the sinister nature of this malady. For here we see true douche as manifested in lesions of the skin. Huge patches of nonsensical skin irritations that indicate the level to which the internal infection has progressed. In this case, severely. Even across the belly of this beast, we can see the warning that he reeks of cheese.
And woe, to you, Jennifer-Love-Hewitt-in-a-blonde-wig-hott, and your friend Jenny McCarthy hott. For your proximity to this specimen imperils your own bodies. Boobytanheart is already evident, as is excessive hair bleaching. The answer to this scourge is not to pose with these ass clowns, but to get naked, rub one’s self in protective liniments, and arm one’s self with a flame thrower.
The smell will be horriffic, but the salvation of bubble boobie hotts is worth any price. We here at HCWDB are happy to assist any and all succle thigh hotties with training, specifically the part about the rubdowns with protective liniments.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011Mel Gibson’s Androgynous Devil Walks Among the Hotts
Mel Gibson’s androgynous devil figure from his epic 2004 feature, Saw 5: Nobody F@#ks With The Jesus, not only proves that Mel Gibson thinks Jews are Satan’s evildoers, but, apparently, dresses like a pudstomp and hits on hotties in his spare time.
Which makes him a douche. Just like Mel Gibson.
