Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Manuel’s Chin Fung Ruins My Morning
I woke up this morning feeling pretty good.
I had my morning cup of iced Gaelic Coffee, which I drink out of a polished bronze boot I once stole off a French dock worker.
I went out back by the reflecting pools, sheared the shetlands, and donated the hides to a young Maori returning from walkabout.
Then I walked through the poppy fields down to the lodge, where I changed the filtration system in the humidor to move the azaleas to the lunar cycle.
Yup. All in all, a good morning.
And then I saw Manuel’s Chin Fung. And the five Vegas Trampy Hotts infiltrated by its alien-like tendrils.
And the whole morning just seemed like so much wasted piffle.
Yellow skank is about to remove the Douche’s heart with her bare hands.
Boss: There are only four hots. Please don’t grope the one in the middle.
Not Hotts- Skanks-And the death grip on Manuel’s one pack will leave a mark
Wait- could this be proof of the urban legand that you think you are hooking up with a hottie only to wake up in a tub of ice and your liver is removed? She taking his liver!!! My god, who would want hep c from Manuel’s liver?
Yeah, Manny’s chin fung needs a delousing.
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Here’s just the tool for the job.
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It’s the only way to be sure.
I’ve always kinda wanted to go to Vegas, and my dad has always encouraged me to get married there so he doesn’t have to pay for a wedding, but seeing all these pictures has me worried the Grieco Virus becomes airborn there and that there is no escape. Anyone been to Vegas, is it really as bad as it seems or are these chin fung people just the scum of the visitors?
“Sick Boy” indeed…. that ghetto box on his collar looks like a Sanyo.
I’d like to add some white polka dots to that bikini.
I say, old bean, it does sound like he ruined your morning. Dirty pool, that.
Yellow skank is about to remove the Douche’s heart with her bare hands.
Nah, one of his kidneys. Hey, he’s got two, and I bet she could get a decent enough price on his to buy some decent clothes, maybe a boob job.
hopefully they do a pegging train on his dopesick ass,
from left to right i would give them the following implants
250cc’s, 150 cc’s, 40lb sledgehammer, 550cc’s, 350 cc’s
The creature in yellow that is attempting to rip out Manuel’s appendix has a bikini bottom that looks like it’s concealing a full diaper.
Boatbutter beat me to the ghettobox tat. My guess is he’s also got a tattoo of an electrical outlet on his anus.
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“SICKBOY” indeed. More like “Sackboy”, as in lunch.
Black bikini bleeth needs to sue her plastic surgeon. He put her left nipple way in the wrong place. Where’s the other one? Under her foot?
My first ‘bag tag. I’m so honored. Thanks DB1!
@ dicy
You will be bleethed. You can feel the raunch coming off the plane.
@Dicy
I’ve been to Vegas, and I found it to be a trifecta of suck: the douche, the constant assault of neon advertising, and the hoardes of wandering Midwesterners that don’t really understand how probability works. I lived in NYC at the time, so I thought I’d be immune to overstimulus, but after a few days there, I would have preferred to be locked in a box with several feral cats and nothing but Ke$ha songs played on endless repeat.
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That said, I will go to Vegas to marry you, if that’s what you really want.
As a side note, the mass of yellow bikini’s dumper has to be measured in metric tons.
“Sick Boy” (see tatt) awaiting right-most hott to administer cherry-slurpee enema (once other three hotts leave).
Nice tag Dr. BH. Did you throw the camera away afterwards and then dip yourself in a vat of hydrogen peroxide?
@Bag Margera
Haha, duely noted!
@ Mr. Scrotato Head
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I find that a solution of aqua regia or piranha solution works well under these conditions. They tell me I should get all my sense back within a few weeks of leaving the ICU. *crosses fingers*
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@ Mr White
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You can only marry Dicy in Mr. Scrotato Head’s neck of the woods, right? I mean I know you and Medusa are open-minded and all but you gotta think about the legalities and such.
@Mr. White
Awesome, I’m booking a flight now.
I’m amazed that a New Yorker would find Las Vegas over stimulating. The Times Ive been to NYC I was so overwhelmed. It was fun but I dont see how anyone could figure out that subway system!
Re: pic
I REALLY hope that this fuckface didn’t read “Trainspotting” and decided that having a “sick boy” tatt on his chest would make him cool. I’ll have to call Irvine Welsh and let him know that the next time he comes over here that he should hunt this hippopatamic land mass down and give him a bloody eagle.
@Dicy
Before you go, if you’ve go a couple hours to burn, jump in your car and head on down a local freeway until you come to one of those travel plazas, you know the kind, with the 500 gas pumps, the restaurant promoting $5.99 New York Strip, with the attached mega convenience store and the shower station for truck drivers.
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Before you go in, stroll over to one of the outside concrete ashtray fountains, take a handfull of butts, and rub them all over your clothes, then run your fingers through your hair.
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Once you’re inside, spend about half an hour standing in line behind morbidly obese truck drivers who don’t change their underwear and stressed out fathers who should never have suggested driving the family to DisneWorld. Only don’t buy anything, just keep getting out of line and then back in again, until you’re ready to pull your hair out. Then buy some chicken strips and a couple burritos from the counter deli for $20.00 from the clerk who gives you the stink eye just for being alive and making her work.
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Now, wait for a blue haired old lady to push her walker down down the cheap souvenier aisle and into the lady’s restroom. Follow her in and take the stall next to her. Now, close your eyes, and imagine the sound of clanging bells, nickels tumbling from slot machines, and really bad 80’s music keeping time to her emphysemic hacking and spitting.
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Welcome to Vegas, baby.
Prior to marrying Mrs. EBLT, my Father-in-law offered to write me a check for the total dollar amount he would spend on a “traditional wedding” if we went to Vegas and eloped.
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This pic is the exact reason we didn’t take him up on the offer.
I have “Sick Boy” tattooed across my upper back.
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There, I said it. I was a senior in high school, worshipped Mike Ness, and was a big rockabilly douche. I got lots of tattoos in those days. I acted like a big douche in those days. And then I found DB1, and he washed all my sins away, and I look forward to His imminent return – when he will schlep us all away to that Hall of Hott in the sky.
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“’Lizabeth, I’m comin’ home.”
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Ahhh. Confessional Tuesday.
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I feel better already.
From the look on her face, I will bet Manuel’s chin fung smells like the girl in the yellow bikini.
I just got my USRDA of skeeze for like, the next week and a half.
I’ve seen this before. Except one of the girls had 6 tits, another was blue with a huge scalp tentacle instead of hair and tthe small chested one with the big dumpster had on a gold bikin.
@ Dicy
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Fuck these guys. You have to know how to do Vegas.
First of all, yes there’s a lot of smoking and you’re going to smell like it from the nano-second you get there until your 27th shower back home but to offset that there’s gambling and free booze. If that doesn’t equal out for you , don’t go.
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Secondly, have a reason to go. Good examples: A concert , a bachelorette party, a friend’s 21st birthday or because you want to pile quarters into a machine until you win $123,000 while doing 37 shots of tequila.
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Or go see Steve Wynn’s awe inspiring art gallery
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There are places to go where the Douchebag/Bleeth content is low. These are usually the classier casino/hotels such as Caeser’s Palace, The Belaggio or Treasure Island. Know for it’s gay-friendly atmosphere, TI is the fussiest/cleanest hotel on the planet earth and a good place to play and stay.
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The Hard Rock is way off the strip and easy to avoid. The Tropicana corner has the misfortune of the sharing the MGM , home of the douche soup pool and the horrible New York New York casino. Again it’s way down the south side and avoidable.
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In summary, stay towards the middle of the strip or if you can handle a LOT of white haired , slow moving folks go downtown. It’s also good to bring someone that knows there way around a little.
Spelling ^ Get some
@Vin Douchal
Did you say free booze? Why, then Las Vegas is heaven, and not a stinky cigarette infested center of Bleeths and Douches. Why has no one told me before about the free booze? It’s truly amazing.
I’d unpack yella bikini’s trunk, then proceed to black bikini before finishing off w/2 on the right… all the while eating handfuls of Cialus & washing it down with copius amts of wiskey while Chin Fung stands guard at the cabana entrance…get some!
What really bugs me is that in the course of my day-to-day existence I never – NEVER! – see women in bikinis. That might be a reason to go to Vegas and hang around a pool
that would cost me, what, a coupla grand… right?
are we sure that tatt doesn’t say “Sick Buy”?
Wow, ugly tats? Check. Moronic expression? Check. Greasy gelled hair that looks like it came from an anime cartoon? Check. White sunglasses? Check. This guy is a certified bag.
This guy looks like Josh Beckett’s little brother, Slosh Beckett
@ Croosh 8:36
Thank you for sharing. Honesty is the only way to growth. We love you and we’re proud of you *group hug* Keep coming back! I’m debating a tattoo of a hot dog. Apparently, I’m still a stupid fucking retard.
@ Dicy–just come over and I’ll twirl on a pole in my trailer trash apartment and then we’ll go eat at the buffet down the street and buy some scratch-off tickets. Same thing.
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This guy looks like a cross between Dennis Rodman and Ogre from Revenge Of The Nerds. Just sayin’.
@Medusa^
A hot dog? Fooltong? Ballpark frank? Bratt? Vienna Sausage? Old fashioned Chicago Dog? The mind spins when I think of where you’d place it.
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And by mind I mean my penis and by spins I mean SPURPLL!
@ Medusa
why a tattoo of a hot dog…. I can give you the imprint of the real thing
Where most sailors have swallows tattooed on opposite sides of their chest, I’ve got corn dogs. And a belly tat of a big bologna loaf below that.
Not to detract from the worthwhile pursuit of douchal mock, but I must illustrate the mixed-ethnic metaphor.
Maori do not go on walk about, Australian Aborignals do.
Other than that, scrot sac.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, did Medusa just invite me to watch her pole dance!?! I’d turn gay for Medusa faster than it takes a three legged prostitute to get the plague in the 1300s!
Hott in black bikini is a swimmer, possibly a lifeguard, just look at her shoulders.
So why isn’t there some sort of rescue going on here?
Sorry, I just cannot stop laughing at this douchebag. It isn’t enough that his entire head ensemble and necklace tatt are ultime-douche, he has to go and show off his pouchy little moobs.
Which begs the question: why isn’t butt-load yellow bikini-babe massaging his nips instead of his stoma?