Sunday Frolics
Your humble narrator, The DB1 is suffering what the townies in Boston call a “Wicked hangovah.” Stupid PBRs. Stupid half-drunk actress type working the bar, pretending she likes the patrons for tips. But she was so blonde and boobilicious. I went over 20%.
Wait, what’s that? Lil’ Head wants to say something:
Lil’ Head: Hey Big Head! Remember that joke you used to tell about me doing pushups in a cave until I threw up?
Big Head: Yes Lil’ Head, we used to tell that joke in 3rd grade. Why?
Lil’ Head: That was funny.
How’s your weekend going?
Gimli
You gotta be a serious Lord of the Rings fan to tattoo middle earth on your chest.
Ask DB1: Unclear on the 'Bag Concept
The following spam email came in this morning:
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Do you wholesale your bags? The stores we work with are aggressively looking for bags to sell in their stores this holiday season. If you want to make a push, now’s the time.
We work with buyers from thousands of department stores, specialty shops, large retailers, mail-order catalog companies and Internet shopping sites. We need a larger variety of products they can choose from, hence my email to you.
If you want to sell your bags, visit us at http://www.WiseRep.com. We guarantee sales.
Sincerely,
David Thibos
Director of Merchandising
WiseRep.com
—-
I love spam that uses the word “hence.”
Whither the Wendys?
Another Friday in Los Angeles.
The fog lifts over the mid afternoon traffic like a Peking opera revealing a dancing Chou. The city sweats like a schizophrenic ferret trapped in a dryer. Set on high.
The people, trapped in their cars on the 405, ranting and raving because traffic sucks. I gaze at the smog. And I chuckle.
I sip some semi-flat Mr. Pibb out of a Big Gulp and contemplate the rare Wendys Hold + ‘Bag Hand Gesture that Flippy here is demonstrating for us.
Whither Flippy’s trip to Wendys?, I ask myself.
As he pollutes a sweet, soft ball of soft brown hair and large smile that looks cuddly and playful and a bit scratchy, I can’t help but wonder.
Was the Wendy’s run the pinnacle of the evening? Or an impromptu stop after winning the fuzzy dice at the local fair playing The Whack-a-Mole?
I know not how these formations occur in a society confused by fragment and disjoint. A culture overwashed by odors for sale on every street corner to embody the eros magnified by television and magazine.
But even flat, my Mr. Pibb consoles me.
For it is like Dr. Pepper. Only different.
The Four Horsemen of the Douchepocalypse
From Doucheteronomy 13:25:
Lo! And the Lord commanded it, saying “I am the Lord, your G-D. And I shall give you a sign, that yea, in the day of the wonderfully innocent boobie rise, there shall gather the Four Horsemen of the Douchepocalpyse.”
And, hark! The people listened.
And the Lord spoketh his warning. “They shall ride with stupid faces and loud shirts, towards thy Holy Boobie Hottie. And you shall mock them. For it is My Will, and I command it! As I am thine G-D. And they are very pooey.”
The Ass and I
If Richard Feynman’s theory is correct, that all of matter is created by one electron traveling backwards and forwards through time, then it would stand to follow that I am that ass.
However, the anitmatter on the left is so rank, it couldn’t break down even if it oscillated for a barium half life.
Yup. Incomprehensible physics comments.
It’s all I can make in the presence of a butt moon that sings poetic songs of heroic inspiration.
Friday Haiku
What to post, post “Fung?”
MTV Real World Hottness,
And big hair old choad.
guns and roses choad
appetite for douchestruction
gropes sweet child o bleeth
– bcs
Dude, just give it up
“Chinese Democracy” disc
Is never coming.
— mr. white
Lazy-eye douchepimple
Hand way to close to boobies.
Slash would not approve.
– spaz
Buy Hot Topic shirt
Cut holes in shoulder – comb ‘hawk
But he loves Emo.
– crucial head
Rare clear cup appears!
Designer punk hurts my heart.
Faux hawk claim Bewbeez
— holbrooks douchestershire sauce
Fung
Too much megadouche overload and not enough clearly visible hott give us a highly unbalanced HCwDB pic.
And by unbalanced, I mean AIYYYEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!
Ask DB1: 'Bag Hunting Pride
Fish Slap’s Anal Beads writes in:
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Dear DB1,
I’m in a great relationship, my woman is perfect, the farthest thing from a baggette you could imagine. She’s kind, creative and holds a top tier job in a male dominated profession. Not only that, but one of my favorite aspects of my relationship is that we both hate the same things. Call it odd, but I love that my woman loathes ‘mandals!’ And naturally she’s revolted by douche bags, of course she works with more than a few.
With that said she is aware of your site and enjoys it. But I have a quandary…should I come out as a ‘Bag Hunter?’ I’m freaked out at what she’ll think when she realizes that I frequent the myspace pages of these tacky hotts. It’s not like I’m always doing it, but being on myspace makes it sort of hard to avoid. And yes it’s fun in twisted way.
Enough, should I come out to my girlfriend? Should I share the pride I feel when you publish one of my submissions?
-Fish Slap’s Anal Beads
—-
A true ‘bag hunter admits with pride that he hunts ‘bags for a living, F.S.A.B.
Until you embrace your mission quest, Grasshopper, you have not conquered The ‘Bag Within. Tell her. If she laughs, she is worth keeping. If she complains, she is Bleeth.
Crusty?
Is this… could it be?!
Hall of Scrote legend, The Crustacean?
Still as douchey as ever?
