Tuesday, March 8, 2011
When Pears Go Bad
Ya know, I woke up all groggy this morning. Those two Trader Joes microwave burritos I had for dinner while watching Eastbound and Down on DVD just sat like lumps in my gut all night.
Then I rolled out of bed all groggy at 4:15am.
I watered the Vuvuzela tree, cleaned off the water frogs, dusted around the Tralfamadorian tree feeder and spitshined the alpacas.
When the household chores were done, I fired up the trusty ole’ laptop, and this is what I see.
Pear gone bad.
Sure it may still look tasty and firm on the outside. But it’s rotten. Gone bleethy. And surrounded by douche fungi to prove it.
There’s only one cure for this: Blood Orange Soda
Did everyone else sleep in today?
Echo….echo…..echo.
Is there such a thing as bad pear? Not so sure myself….self…..self.
Notice that not one guy in this photo is checking the bleeth-pear out. I pose that she is encountering the worst fear of the Bleeth: every guy at the party has “been there, done that”. And therefore she must wait until their blood alcohol levels pass the legal limit before she hears the douche mating cry: “Yo baby, you lookin’ fine tonight”.
All I see is a picture of epic social failure.
The outside looks to be quite tasty. I’l take on for the team and explore the pear from the inside. I’m a giver, what can I say?
Where did the entry with the girl from Budapest in the blue bikini go? I wasn’t finished.
Was a premature publication, UFOD. I hate it when that happens. Will be up @9. Where is everyone? I’mma going back to bed. Stupid microwave burritos.
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– management
In my youth, I bit into a pear that had a worm in it. I had bitten the worm in half and could feel it wiggle around in my mouth. Three things came of this. I don’t put things that wiggle into my mouth and I closely inspect pears before bitting them.
Snookie is not as fat as I thought she would be.
Nice kankle bracelets butt munch.
I see decay on both the inside and outside of this Bleeth. I see evidence that her pear and her thighs are merging together. I give it 5 years before they grow and fuse together until they look like two 30-lb sacks of potting soil stuck to her ass. Covered in extra-large “PINK” sweatpants, of course. With the requisite gravy stains.
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And I don’t mean man gravy.
And, @Mr. White, those pink sweat pants will have 90 font size letters spelling the word “HOTTIE” on the ass, but you’ll only be able to see the “HO–IE” since the T’s will be swallowed by her cheeks. Alas, sad to see a pear go Bleeth. I mourn.
All I can focus on is the douchebag with the giant cankles. Seriously dude, you could watch Oprah with those things.
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Microwave burritos are the best. Microwave tacitos on the other hand are foul. Dos centos de mio.
@Taint, nice image. Thanks.
When I was but a young Bunsen I worked in a grocery store for a couple summers in order to pay for college. It was a small mom and pop store where I was kind of in charge of everything at night except for the money (of course). When I would walk in I would be handed a list of what needed to be done that night so the store would be ready for tomorrow’s opening and it would often included “sprucing up” the produce. I would have to look over all of it and pull out the bad stuff and replace it with good stuff. I t was always easy to tell when all the little old blue hairs were taking their Geritol because all the tomatoes would be squished to hell and back and bruises would cover everything else. I always felt bad for the pears. They could look alright from a distance but you never knew until you picked it up if it was OK or not. The shape could be spectacular but the inside could be like applesauce. You ALWAYS had to feel them and it was always disappointing to have to chuck the bad ones but chuck them you must…
@Power Though It, I apologize if my imagery has given you heart burn. For me, my heartburn comes from seeing hotts go Bleeth. And, admittedly, I do drown almost every meal, including microwaveable tacitoes, in Sriracha hot sauce (aka-Red Hot Cock Sauce). Still, I beg of thee to accept my apology for thine heartburn (if necessary).
I see and can almost smell the cottage cheese that soon will be the texture of her molding pear.
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Lack of sleep seems to be a theme these days and I can relate to those who are going through this. It piss’s me off that the doc’s give you stuff that really does work and then when you need more they tell you no that you should try relaxation techniques, deep breathing, counting backwards etc; I would kill for a solid 8 hrs of interrupted sleep heck even 6 would work for me.
The girl on the right has one tremendous ass-banging ass if she has a flat stomach. She’ll be OK.
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The disturbing thing with this photo is that wigga has a serious health problem. His feet are turning blue, which will be followed by yellow and gangrenous, which combined with the serious edema in his legs leads this doctor to believe that he has a severe case of undiagnosed junenile diabeetus. His liver is working overtime. Kidneys are failing and the bile is going right to his feet and eyes. If he doesn’t get to a clinic soon he will develop more severe circulatory problems, diabetic neuropathy, and require dialysis or transplant.
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The Reverend Chad is not licensed to practice medicine in hepatic, renal, neurlogic, or cardiovascular cases in the contiguous territories of North America, only Mexico at the Kroeger Institute of Hepatic,
Renal, Neurologic, or Cardiovascular Clinic. This guy won’t be posing HARD when he has no feet. I read a lot about medicine when I’m stoned. Son.
@Et Tu
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I hear ya brother. Was up for five days last week. Need some smoke? I have lots.
@Rev, 9:45 a.m. –
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Have you read about this type of (ahem) “medicine”?
@ Rev, thanks for the offer but the ganj and I haven’t crossed paths in years and it’s a shame cause we used to get along ohh so well.
Well call me R. Crumb but I like her caboose.
This makes me sad.
Someone needs to beat the extra chromosomes out of that pathetic wigga on the right.
My god, I hate wiggas with the burning intensity of a million suns. They’re even worse than televangelists, hipsters, and male cheerleaders.
^ Amen, MDWL 421.
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I had trouble sleeping for a long time recently. I cut way back on coffee. I didn’t have trouble falling asleep on the stuff, but I had trouble staying asleep. A drastic reduction in caffeine equaled a nice long sleep. Exercise, too. Seriously. I started up working out again after almost a year and now I’m sleeping like a damn baby. And I have a good, serious whack off right before bed. Yeah, I’m serious. Sorry for the info overload, but that puts me right into a coma. Hooray for in-house wi-fi, I have porn aplenty streamed right to my nightstand, aw yeah.
“And I have a good, serious whack off right before bed.”
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Medusa, I doubt you’re alone in that…..at least in this community.
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Yeah right, like none of you guys have stained a tube sock!
@Wheezer I have heard of that venom. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I have a generous prescription for Cialis Pro. As a result of my numerous addictions and psychoses I have been reduced to four natural erections a day and was driven to seek help. The Mrs. has mentioned how she appreciates the extra 3 inches in girth and 6 ounce ejaculations. Fucking messy sheets though.
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@EtTu
Let me know if you return to the dark side.
@Taint, no worries. Mine heartburn hath subsided. I was actually giving you props for a good comment. I guess my compliments can be a little backhanded sometimes. Please don’t pert yourself on my account either.
@RevChad, I request two kilometers of you finest Downtown Julie Brown. Throw in a parcel of Siamese Twin Thai Stick and you’ve got yourself a goddamn deal. Son. Please. Can you Fed Ex that stuff or should I just Google you my address using a hyperlink?
do i have to look at this pic while Medusa talks about porn and whacking off?
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no. i guess i don’t have too. there is hope in life after all.
i guess i don’t have TO.
i once prided myself in never confusing their with they’re. but now i pride is broken.
MY pride is broken.
fuck.
Steve L. grammatically unraveling before our eyes is like music tom my ears. Its okah dude, you’re human. Spellcheck can suck a fuck,
It’s such a shame to see her D’Anjous and/or Bartletts go to such a rotten state, but there’s always the compost pile to re-cycle them.
Wait, that’s the compost pile to the right…holding up his skirt before he dare step into the mucky-muck.
Any produce, including fresh herbs, will go bad finally, even in the refrigerator. If the dill is dried, then it can be stored much longer in a tightly sealed container.
Three things came of this. I don’t put things that wiggle in to my mouth and I closely inspect pears before bitting them.
Wigga on right = “Brendan McGillicutty”” from the ‘burbs.
Boy he looks intimidating.
5 years ago, I bet her pearness was just epic. She passed her pear prime at least a year ago. The cottage cheese is visible from 30 paces now. So sad. 5 years ago, I bet the visage of her in that bikini would have split the atom.
Maybe a giant belly flop wave will wash them all into the pool.