Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Where’s Brothabag Edgar?
Somewhere in this pic of extremely award winning quality sapphic collegiate experimentation between BFFs after finals week is over, I’ve carefully hidden HCwDB of the Month winning douchebag Brothabag Edgar.
Look closely. Can you find him contemplating life?
Maybe this is why I’ve never had a 3-some. It makes sense to me now though, hang out in a completely empty room where there is absolutely nothing else to do, the chicks get bored and start making out.
I find myself strangely jealous of a Brothabag, for the first time in my life. Jealous because he is in the room, but strangely distant from the action. You would have to pry me off of them with a crowbar.
Edgar has down graded. Josslyn is better than these two frumpy looking youngsters. Ladies, its all down hill from here.
All that money he wastes on manscaping products could buy him a nice living room set.
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Or at least a futon. Come on Edgar, get with it, bro!
I wonder if that’s an AXO shirt she’s wearing. I always liked the A Chi O’s at STDSU.
^^Nahhhhh, it’s more like “Alpha Chi Epsilon.”
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And it smells awful.
Thimbledick has two wimmen kissing in front of him and all he can do is tell us what HE wants? (Take a step or two back from your monitor baghunters and huntresses. Get back just far enough that Edgar becomes a shape in the background. Doesn’t it look like he’s spelling out B O Y?)
Edgar anxiously awaits a call from Vivid Video for his latest production “Horny Bitches in Empty Fuccen Rooms”. Edgar estimates that he may get $1 or $2 from this one.
Maybe it’s just me, but I’d rather watch two young ladies make out than just about anything else. Well, ok, watch them make out with my johnson would probably top that, but otherwise, fuggetaboudit.
Edgar is a weenie; thimbledick just about covers it, Doc B.
by those hand signals i believe he is indicating the status of the current gerbel race in his colon
They let him in the room to recharge his cell phone. As soon as he gets one bar they’re tossing him into the barf bush outside.
I just looked at that “contemplating life” pic…
Is he actually shaving his forehead so his hair goes across his forehead horizontally? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot….
Her right arm reminds me of Christmas. My mom always serves a ham
Brotha is contemplating how many old coocks he succked to make that kidney stone necklace.
The Dove commercial shoot came to a harshed standstill when the camera panned past the models and accidently caught the janitor behind them, patiently waiting for his vibrating butt plug to recharge.
Matronly arms on young things indeed. Close your eyes Edgar and maybe they’ll finger your stink puccker.
No Edgar, you charge the phone by sticking your tonque in the wall.
Stunt double Edgar nervously practices his lines on the set of “One Broom, Two Hamsters”. No one told him it was a non-speaking role.
Brothabag Edgar is contemplating the three egg omlette or the Belgian Waffle because at 2:00 AM at Denny’s on a school night, these sorts of decisions just shouldn’t be rushed.
L
O
L
Wonder if he caters to weddings.
Chicks making out can actually add 3 to their rating. A 5 making out with another chick is an 8, a 6 becomes a 9, etc.
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It’s true. I’ve done studies.
Yeah, they’re a little sloppy for my tastes. But I’d look at that all day before I’d glance for one second at a photo of BBE.
Snooki ate the furniture the fat stumpy ditch pig.
As a lifelong dream of defecating on a DeSanto carpet came true, Edgar syncronized his sphincter contractions to the gentle tongue rhythms Amanda and Kelly displayed right before his very eyes.
They appear to be semi-hambeast, although my suspicions re. Edgar’s rampant homosexuality are only sustained. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that). Inescapable fact #1: Edgar would make Charles Darwin roll in his grave.
Lesbiticus 10:69
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Seek ye not table, chair and ottoman, but furnish thou dwellingplace with chubby, macking maidservants
Edgar thinks “it’s getting hot in here, yo!”
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But it was just the two-bar electric heater to his right.
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….’Edgar thinks’…pffft!
Is Edgar in that lose your virginity movie that is sponsoring this site or something? Enough already.
True story: Brothabag Edgar tried to fuck a bottle cap and couldn’t hit the back of it.
@ The Rev K 12:56
Speaking of Snooki, I saw on a magazine cover at the supermarket that she once battled with Bulimia and Anorexia. Well, Snooki, I’d say you won that battle hands-down.
After the girls stood up, everyone was shocked to see an image in the wet spot on the carpet that clearly depicted Willie Nelson eating a live Rabbi’s badger, whole and piecemeal.
FTW^^^
Where’s Edgar? Looks like he’s been asked to stand aside at the airport,and set against the wall like a good boy.
I would ignore Brothabag and kiss those gir”s feet.
@ Medusa
.
And then collapsed in on itself.
I’m not entirely convinced that Brothabag Edgar is even a Brotha. More likely: he has tanned himself into racial confusion. Black, brown, white and yellow should and must be united against this diabolical display of douchebaggery. He’s been on the site for a few weeks now, and it’s driving me nuts! If this wanktaint isn’t struck down by lightning soon, I will take it as solemn and irrevocable proof that there is no such thing as a “higher power.”
Brothabag Edgar sure knows where to find those small home-based yoga classes.
Maybe it’s the whimsy of the Moons Over My Hammy omelet…the artery cloggin gravy on the Country Fried Steak…or the sheer weight of a prime rib breakfast skillet…I too, like B-bag Edgar, often contemplate life while groovin’ at Denny’s.
This would fit very well in the same wing as Still Life with Coors Light at the Guggenheim. I’d call the wing “douchebag as meditation.”
This sapphic moment ruined for you by…. Brutha bag and his porcupine-do
BrothaBag Edgar commits two sins. Photobombing an otherwise beautiful girl-on-girl make out session and desecrating the memory of Ronnie James Dio by giving the ‘horns’. May a huge demon chain him up and cast him into the raging sea.
Brothabag Edgar signals “One, Two, Three, it’s so elementary” in the Situation Room:
He sits,
You ate’chin’, ladies.
I disagree with you Captain. Nothing can ruin a sapphic moment, not Edgar, nor the girth of said participants, not even if they are from Las Vegas.
Indeed, nothing can ruin it. You simply must redefine your parameters, my avian friend. And then, all will be nectar.