Thursday, May 20, 2010
When Ed Hardy Kills The Hottness
Here’s a great example where the Hardpocalypse pollution, and an aging rocker schroad, are simply too much for a potential hottie to survive.
This is what we define as “Bleeth.” The moment at which hot chick’s exposure to douchebaggery is so intense, she collapses into a sneering, gum snapping facade of hand gestures, attitude and wasted quality boobage.
So sad. But at least we have Stackhouse poetry coming up.
Noooooooooooooooo!
Brett Micheals is looking great after his hospital stay. I’m glad to see he has insurance to pay for nursing care.
What might ordinarily be mistaken for a “butterface” in this situation is actually a “butterbrain.” Unfortunately, stupid always trumps hott in the end.
Is she wearing spandex? That should be noted as well. Bad cloths and hat can be cured by some Tommy the Trouser Trout Throat Therapy. It’s the only cure for the douche flu.
I am ready for Stackoetry on this fine Thursday morning.
@mr.reeve: “Tommy the Trouser Trout Throat Therapy”
BAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously, dude, I was going to say something pithy about her fantastic knockers, and how I would make it my life’s goal to pull her back from the brink. But I can’t, because I’m literally still laughing at that. Kudos, sir!
She appears to have no ass, and has hips like a boy’s.
Hmmmmm.
What lies under?
I suspect there may be something donglike lurking beneath the spandex shorts.
Wow she’s cool.
I wish I could save her from herself.
Wow, Carrot Top really let himself go. Still an uber tool though.
Axl Rose, now over the depression from his pitiful Chinese Democracy album. looks to be his old self again. A douchebag. I would like to sprinkle her ever so furiously with my sweet November Rain. Fuck off AXE L.
STACKHOUSE, STACKHOUSE, STACKHOUSE, STACKHOUSE, STACKHOUSE, STACKHOUSE,
etc, etc, etc.
This picture has helped me realize what I absolutely hate most about the “lifestyle.”
.
.
It’s the kissylips.
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My mind has yet to get around the idea that these people see their own pictures and think – “I look SO good in this picture. I am sexy…” How is this possible?
.
I mean really – they wake up and put on clothing which has been trashed with mid-talent graffiti by some ass-hat Euro who’ll slap his garbage on any product possible. They douse themselves in scented masking agents, create a protective helmet of hair product and then spend 45 minutes practicing what “look” is best for the day. Ultimately – that time ends when they choose “kissylips” as the look which they know, in their minds, just looks “money.”
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Here’s some advice kissylippers. It’s free, so no need to thank me.
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Walk out of your apartment & look around.
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It’s never going to get any better. So keep douching it up and giving us something to laugh about.
Brett Michaels, wishing to continue his run on reality television shows, meets with Cheryl Burke for a chance to Dance with the Stars.
Bandana,check.
choad shirt.check.
pouty mouth.check.
retarded hand sign.check.
ball cushion under the lips.check.
Welcome to doucheland my boy!
When you see a bleeth like this it’s kinda like the first time you realized Santa Claus (and just about every fuccen thing else) was a lie. You see the hott chick and your initial reaction is “Daaaayyum, she’s fine!” You may even be a little bit intimidated by her good looks. You know you at least want to occupy the same breathing space as her so you make sure you have a pair and then start heading towards her. Someway between halfway and almost there you see her put on that ludicrous hat and then the image fades away and stark reality sets in. By this time you’re within feet of her but you just keep going and order a shot and a beer from the bar. At least they are real and give you exactly what you were looking for from them. And then the radar pricks up again and the same process happens again and again and again. Thankfully I’m so fuccen shy and stoopid around women that my friends had to tell me when a woman was flirting with me. Literal hammers were nearly applied to my head to indicate this to me. At least I had the good sense to know when Mrs. DBHD was interested and I’ve been happy ever since.
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WTF is all this introspection shit from me today? Sorry for rant #2.
Unhand my 17th most favored wife you douche. She is now unclean and needs to be put aflame for touching a filthy infidel. Death to America.
Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche
Prepare to die.
Amen db1. Amen indeed.
Oh, and I always like to bring up this:
poetry.rotten.com/spiral
Tragic, because that is one tight PoA. But a bleeth is a bleeth, and she’s definitely a bleeth.
Is that one time 70s sensation and Tiger Beat poster boy Leif Garrett? He must be getting Botox injections.
.
(blorf)
SHE CAN BE SAVED!
Just FUCK YOU Bret Michaels!
The kissy lips is worse than than the Ed Hardy hat…IMHO…
i see brett let her wear his cap for the picture, that was very nice of him.
hey is it Guy Fawkes Night in Britain yet? an effigy is in dire need of a good burning.
Sadly not until November. But for these two I am sure we could bring it forwards…
hey is it Guy Fawkes Night in Britain yet? an effigy is in dire need of a good burning.