Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Rusty Grows Up
Into every young boy’s life, there comes a moment of spiritual revelation.
A karmic epiphany as distinctive and unique to each young boy as are the snowflakes that fall uponst a brier patch of dyslexic nuns. Or, as the nuns call them, “flowsnakes.”
For Rusty, as for all boys, this visionary moment of transformation from boy to man will involve boobies, kaleidoscopic bikinis, repetitive dangermous tracks, overpriced bottle service, and a strange series of warts suddenly emerging around the outer base of the penis.
Don’t scratch them, Rusty. That’ll only make them spread.
That last sentence is sound advice for this guy’s entire life.
It’s good to see Britney Spears losing some weight. The outfit and tats are an interesting branding idea, although I fear they’ll increase her standing with half of her core audience (gay guys) at the expense of alienating the other half (13-year-old girls).
Congrats Rusty, your ginger balls finally dropped. Why don’t you get a tattoo to commemorate this momentous event. Your lower left love handle looks pretty ink free. Or you might as well tatt up your face and really stick it to the man.
I have a hard time classifying Rusty as a Douchebag. Granted times change, and definitions must be altered to reflect this change, but I am not sure about including these types under the Douchebag moniker. Scumbag, most definitely. Freakshow, absolutely. ScabBag, indubitably. I’m just sayin’….
Oh, and she is a pig. I wouldn’t fuc her with Bea Arthur’s dick.
His tale of ginger woe in ink displayed to shame his parents in heaven who blew themselves up in the Airstream when the last batch was cooking.
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I have no idea what this video is but is likely makes sense if you are in one of the states of mind I run concurrently at different wavelengths while I sleepwalk with the nightly dream merchants and take notes.
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Spartans
Ok. That is an obscure band from Saskatchetoon. Sweet bass line though.
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My apologies to the youngsters and Yankees.
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Pellopenesians
Man, the ugly is strong here. I think I got an ecstasy contact high just looking at these two worms. That or the combo of my first lipper of Kodiak / cup of coffee.
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These two are perfect for each other. A trailer on a half acre of dirt in Indo is in their future. Then they can hitchhike to the concerts and sell their homemade hemp key fobs that are lettered with “Skateboarding Is Not A Crime”. Or barter them for hashish and vitamins.
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If they foist shorties upon the world, Riverside County will pick up the tab for little “Skylark” , “Beezle” and “WJ Clinton” with a thick monthly envelope of food stamps and free clinic listings. Pre-school will be a never ending attempt at potty training and speech therapy.
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Can we just all chip in to pay the tab for a tube tying and irreversable vasectomy to avoid this awful peek into the future? Set up the Paypal account and it’ll ring like Obama’s 2008 campaign , possibly causing the internet to crash in Taipei.
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LaBeouf
ahhh. young love.
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and massive amounts of MDMA
Where’s the hot chick?
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Him: HEY BABY! LOVE YER TATTS!
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Her: WHAT?
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Him: I SAID I LIKE YOUR TATTS!
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Her: YOU’LL LICK MY WHAT?
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Him: YEAH! EXACTLY!
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Her: OK. BUT I WANT YOUR PICTURE IN CASE YOU KILL ME.
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Him: YOU WANT MY WHAT IN CASE I FILL YOU?
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Her: YOUR PICTURE!
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
Him: SURE BABY – WHATEVER YOU SAY!
UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-UNTSE-
@TROY 9:38 for the win.
Troy Tempest – Human Beatbox.
Oh and Rusty, that’s not your father’s poison ivy.
And to think he actually wears that pair of sunglasses he has so artfully clipped to his waist. Sheesh! Kill me now.
Which one is Rusty and which one has the Trombone?
What the focc haircut is on Stripes Mcgahee on the left? Is it Gary Oldman from The Fifth Element?
Damned Harkonnens.
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That’s clearly Baron Harkonnen’s daughter.
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C’mon people. Clearly this is the part in the Tallahassee Carny Prom where you get your picture taken with your date. It just so happens that Rusty waited until the last minute and had to ask Luvanna who works in the Freak Show tent (the whole one arm and one leg thing) and who happens to be his conjoined twin sister. There’s nuthin’ wrong with that, is there?
the “spiritual revelation” or “transformation” or whatever is not complete until i skewer the living shit out of Rusty’s tatts.
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Patricia’s tatts, however, are great. i’m a hypocrite.
It’s the Burning Sensation Festival
I have to invent ink that explodes.
these are a few of my favorite things. Rain drops may be nice on roses but I sure dont like them running down my legs! I thought cycling precariously along left hand on the handlebars right hand thrusting a bright blue umbrella in front of me like a shield.
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