Porschenheit 9-11
As your narrator, The DB1, sits and contemplates the conundrum of the beautiful girl with oranges picked from the douche-tree, the unholy visage of JoeyPorsche comes to me yet again.
I gaze at this pic, and the spectacle of tall club chairs, Long Island scrote and late teen hotness vexes me. How does the 18 year old orange spikey haired choadbag wankdouche form? Is it vegetable? Animal? Mineral? And why does feral hotness go there to feast?
As the Grieco Virus progresses on its rampage of cultural douchosity, should we quarantine? Is there immunization? And do hotties like it when I nuzzle their shoes like a baby panda when they’re not looking?
These are the questions we must ask ourselves. These are the manifestations we must comprehend and confront with every hottie/douchey picture that comes our way.
As you head into your Friday nights, toast a ubiquitous red cup of the ‘Train to another week of examination, contemplation, revelation and douche-nation confrontation. Toast your cup to JoeyPorsche. For he has forced you to confront that deepest, douchiest part of our collective cultural douchosity. And in so doing, JoeyPorsche offers you revelation.
