Friday Thoughts and Links
Oh Slavic Europe.
How strangely hilarious your fashion sense is.
At least American Douchebags maintain a consistency of garishness.
Your tiny Nordic Ferrets are techno creeper.
But your Tiny Nordic Hotts, complete with mesh boob reveal, do offer pure suckle thigh. Like “Virgen” Water from Uraguay.
Which isn’t in Europe. Or so they tell me. Yup. Time to start drinking. The DB1 is making no sense whatsoever.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Mole Pick of the Week: Mole!
Ever wonder what airline pilots really talk to each other about during a flight? Answer: “Homosexuals and a granny.”
Most days, I’m deeply and unhealthily obsessed with alpacas. Every so often, I make room for Condescending Llama.
Does winning the Stanley Cup give you permission to douche it up shirtless, standing on a bar, and demonstrating toxic groin shave reveal? No. No it does not. Yup, it’s Hot Chicks with Stanley Cup Douchebags. Even if it’s my hometown Bruins, and I’m proud of ’em, I gotta call a ‘bag a ‘bag.
Oh racist Bugs Bunny. How you tell the real history of this country, even as our collective media memory loves to forget.
Here’s one from the Department of Redundant Polls.
Need a little uber-pumped up creepily European steroid pumping uberdouche to go with your Friday? Of course you do (Warning: Ubergay and Uberdouchey)
But you are not here for ubergay pumped up ubershlort. You are here for quality pear:
Like two perfectly levened matzoh balls of rugaleh chomp.
Go forth and celebrate Friday like it’s Friday in its most Rebeccablackian sense.
Which for me means sitting at home on my dirty-ass rug, drinking Mr. Pibb, burping loudly, watching Tom Baker era Doctor Who DVDs, and scratching myself inappropriately.
Pear Rafaeli has left me rather verklempt…..
I thought I was done having to view “Melki Wears an Emo Scarf in Dusseldorf” I was wrong.
There was a time back in the 80s when a rather enjoyable part of my employment duties involved recruitment. I was situated in a holiday destination environment and on occasions engaged with applicants similar to the above Nordic hott. Such sexual liberation. Such hottness. Such memories.
I’d like to congratulate the pilots for their keen observations. Give Bar Rafaeli my Knish and Matzoball surprise even if she was tainted by the half-fag DiCaprio.
I hate French Canadians most of the time unless they are female and licking my taint in an alley for $25.
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Bugs Bunny was an equal-opportunity rabbit. He dressed in drag. Porky was gay. Daffy was a Jew. Granny was a Tranny. Tweety was gay. Sylvester was a Jew. Foghorn Leghorn was Dark Sock. The skunk was an East Coast elite European bastard. Yosemite Sam was a mid-western and western, commie, nazi, etc.of Anglo descent. Marvin was an alien. Dog was Ralph Kramden or Archie Bunker. The Genies were Arabs. And when you got punched through the planet you ended up in a rice patty with slanted eyes. Can’t we all get along. The Little Rascals has some prime bigotry.
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Buckwheat
At least you didn’t put the link in for “Naked Shower Flex” for European steroid pumping uberdouche
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Never mind what airline pilots really talk to each other about , how about what we say about them?
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Aiy yie, can this little twit even pull a joy stick besides his own?
No way in hell is he fucking that redhead stewardess
If he’s fucking that redheaded stewardess, I’ll take a donkey dick up the ass
If he’s fucking that redheaded stewardess I’m going out the exit at 30,000 feet
Well I can definitely attest to that redundant poll about reality TV making you dumber. I’m almost halfway through Dane Cook’s Tourgasm and my comedic timing is definitely taking a hit. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to religiously watch a show like “The Batchelorette”. If it ever gets that bad, I need you guys to do an intervention, ASAP.
I have also worked with several EuroDouches similar to the flexing cartoon arms in the video. I recall their common though unsurprising behaviour was a sissy-like weakness. Colleagues who were practically skin and bone by comparison worked harder, lifted heavier things and generally were far more grounded and down to Earth than these pumped-up Euro hedonists.
I have also worked with several EuroDouches similar to the flexing cartoon arms in the video. I recall their common though unsurprising behaviour was a sissy-like weakness. Colleagues who in comparison were skin and bone worked harder, lifted heavier things and generally were far more grounded and down to Earth than these pumped-up Euro hedonists.
Ooops!
What pilots also talk about:
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So, like I’m down a stroke on my handicap. I’m doing under 80 now.
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Fuck – my wife totally the Benz last week. Stupid cunt left it neutral with the engine running and her stupid little dog in the car. She went to a strip mall to get something and told me she “just jumped out for a minute” and left the dog in the car, and of course, the stupid fucking dog jumped around yippin and yappin his furry little ass off, knocked the car into gear, and the torque on that 3.5 engine just propelled it down the street and through a stop sign where this guy in a fucking cement mixer plowed right through it. Yeah – through it. Killed the dog. Always hated that fucking dog. So, now her car insurance just fucking doubled. Stupid bitch. Now she wants a new Benz. I think I’ll get her an 89 Tercel. Stupid bitch.
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Check – cross check.
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We’re over Vegas – ever been there? Got me a midget samoan whobag jumpoff once. That little thing could suck the chrome off a boat hitch. What happens in Vegas stays there, wink wink nudge nudge right?
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Hey look – we’re flying over Cleveland. My ex lives there – fucking miserable cunt. Once we pass that highway up there, lets dump the contents of the john. If it doesn’t hit her house, that’s OK, it’ll be close enough. Besides – the fucking city’s a god damn hole.
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Look, I *know* he’s not doing the redhead, cuz I’ve been schtupping her pink little pussy for months. She shaves her cooter into a heart shape, and has kegels that almost snapped my dick in half. She’s awesome.
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So, i got the new Fleetwood Mac record. It sucked. I don’t know why they bother. But I’d schtup Stevie Nicks, even if she is old and fat. She’s got that witchie thing goin’ yeah baby know what I mean?
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I’m bored. Think I’ll put it auto and take a nap – you mind?
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DB1, you found ex-Rep. Weiner’s favorite website. Now it’s not a secret anymore.
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If watching the Shore makes you dumber, what does it make us if we read the blog of the discoverer of the ever-present Snookie?
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Wait, I don’t want to know the answer.
Yay, he posted my God Hates Bags pic! ^_^
Yeah, we’ve come a long way since those racist 40s. Now we just think of blacks as hyper-aggressive maniacs.
Frankly, I’d rather be called slow. At least my mere presence wouldn’t frighten people.
Damn, I always thought of evening gowns and spandex to be two different kinds of turn-ons. Rafaeli manages to synthesize them into a new species of uber-hott. So glad she’s an MOT.
Rafaeli Pear = Hammer Time.
Tis a shame about certain members of my beloved B’s partying D-Bag style however they a get a temporary notta in my book, a very temporary notta. Lose the True Religion button flap jeans Marchand!!!, those are not cool.
I’m with UFO Destroyers…if the research done by Markus Appel has any merit, then I’m concerned about my participation in format…just sayin, boss
meh, I had drain bamage before I got here
Mmmmmmmmm!!!!! Bar Rafaeli and her pear.
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Farina
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Stymie
@Rev
Where can I find some of these French Canadian girls you speak of? but more importantly is that $25 CAD or USD??
More than 10 years ago I bot one of those sum-bitch mole traps. An’ I caught that sum-bitch varmit that was digging up my lawn within 24 hours. But I’m here to say I don’t think that trap would take that mole off of that douche’s face. Know what I’m sayin?
Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd and Yosemite Sam were prophets.
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In the forties and fifties when there were real cartoons like Popeye, with a steady stream of violence and rape sequences, the Sharks and Jets were smooth-skinned and Broadway-gay. They fought with chains, knuckles and switchblade knives, sharpened on rib cage and vertebrae, then sang songs and danced between rumbles. A simpler, happier time when an unplanned pregnancy was rectified at the muzzle of a large-bore shotgun by pride-hurt fathers, trigger fingers twitching spasmodically.
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After the firestorms and nukes had done their job, the shell-shocked and traumatized WWII battle survivors, wounded and randy, returned to the homeland to hordes of nubile, sex-starved bobby-soxers who pleasured themselves with rubber aircraft gaskets and fanaticized about Eleanor Roosevelt. On movie screens and billboards Marilyn Monroe spread her legs wide while Dr. Joyce Brothers applied the flea powder and Vaseline. The two groups bred as heathen rodents, spilling their ample seed onto sidewalks and subway stations, then watching it ooze slowly down staircases and the balcony seats of air-conditioned movie theatres.
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The population erupted , starting on the East coast and spreading it’s infection westward until the vermin were forced to stop at the Pacific Ocean where, like crowded rodents, they fled in terror into bottlenecked killing fields, attempting to go to ground in a panicked frenzy. They wound up fat and sedated, hating themselves in mass-produced housing while their spoiled offspring stared stupidly into black and white television sets.
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Popeye’s explosive forearms fueled by cabbage and turnip greens pummel his opponents jawbones causing a pinkish spray to cover walls and windowpanes. Blasting Mexican vagrants who dared look his way, the hero marches confidently down dangerous and unfamiliar streets, the arrogant, ugly American with his can of spinach, ’57 Chevy Bel Air Hardtop and hidden hypodermic needles filled with whiskey and bile.
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Our current generation, is more enlightened and raised on Barney and Teletubbies. So they simply spread shell casings, gas and flame in schoolyards and post offices, while the death toll rises daily in urban ghettoes and on bridge overpasses as automatic gunfire and explosives rip through alleyways and parking lots. The Public Housing toddlers hunker down in their plastic cribs while Sponge Bob Squarepants drones on in the next room.
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Well, blow me down!
^ ^Olive Oyl is a slut.
Elmo, Barney and Teletubbies are the reason kids are on Prozac.
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But dammit, Hermit, what font do you draw from to flow like this? Pure poetry.
Nice Hermit. Just goes to show that every generation does blame the one before. I can’t wait to have kids! And if this Serbian chick is your muse, you need to keep her around.
These are the cutest twins I seen in a long time
Very nice Hermit. And by nice I mean both erudite and scathingly insane in its aptitude.
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I have always liked spinach but lately only in a salad with warm gently chopped panchetta, shaved asiago, and an herbed balsamic vinagrette. Would Popeye approve.
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Sluts
Mad political correctness shaved the current tv version of this classic to 3 minutes and the kids play Call of Duty. I never jumped into a pigpen or poked anybody in the eye. The fencepost thing may have been done but with a lacrosse stick in dire circumstances.
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http://www.jogyjogy.com/watch.php?id=19829
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Did you notice I didn’t call him Richard?
Right on Hermit!!!!!, right on.
Pilots are douchbags! We need more photos of douches with moles,guaranteed slam dunk of funny.
How does Popeye keep his dick from rusting? He keeps it in Olive Oil.
Good morning! How’s the hangover?
Here’s a video of a barking cat:
I’m not an easy grader when it comes to calling a douche a douche. However, I may – may – give a guy a pass for winning the Stanley Cup, NBA Championship, Olympic Gold, Super Bowl, World Series, etc. Perhaps the guy made a douchebag move, but i’m willing to forget it given the circumstances. This is not just hanging at the Rehab pool bar in Vegas.
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The JuiceBag posing and the Condescending Llama gave me an idea for a new site, DoucheBagsBeingDicks.com. Perhaps a new brand.
Mmmmm….Eleanor Roosevelt.
tha sad thing about our slavic goddess, once you find her on eatern european mailbrides, convince her she won’t be a sex slave, and convince her that being an american nanny, is how all the women she sees in american movies got to be so rich, you know goddamn well she isn’t gonna wanna go to supercuts, like she did their slavic equivalent.
nah, within two weeks she will be begging to go to a nail parlor where they don’t talk funny. of course half of her english will be in spanish, so it won’t sound right.
and while she might be as close to young nastassia kinski as you are going to find without a tennis racket or a mob boyfriend,you are going to be asking yourself , did i really need a hand job that bad?
i hear corey hart is big in estonia. this bag looks like he landed head first like a lawn dart into a big pile of russian bear shit, after the bear had eaten several hundred european otters.
Something we can all enjoy…..no doubt from the safety of our respective parents’ basements.
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Fuccen hatters.
Olive Oyl’s relationship with Popeye took a turn for the worse when his interest in fisting began…
i needed the ubergay and uberdouchey warning, but not the actual uvergay and uberdouchey. um yeah.
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