Friday, April 6, 2012
Friday Thoughts and Links
Greetings from a hot and muggy storm-ravaged Mississippi, my fellow sports-fans.
Still no sign of the DB1; although some alert readers along the Pacific Rim have noted regional news stories of recent llama-related social disturbances. Perhaps he shall return enlightened and share the bounty of his wisdom, with us all arrayed in wonder at his sandaled feet.
Or he may just resume spewing the stellar B.S. we’ve come to know and love.
Until then…here’s your Friday Thoughts and Links:
How your steering wheel can tell you who’s a douchebag.
This just in… Dolphins not so damned intelligent on land, are they?
Oh, please…let’s just stop this charade, shall we? I know what you came here for…
And…CUT!
You needed the Amplified Flatulence Pear photo link before the “And…..CUT!”
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Then again, I’m not sure if that would help illustrate the Jim Gaffigan connection.
Backlit pear FTW.
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Unholy blue triangle with dark blue lady zipper for the cringe.
Dude in red gives the monster that lives under my bed nightmares.
Dude in white demonstrates how to give the shocker to his cousin Ethyl, who has an extra hole following an accident with a garden weasel.
Damien, the demonic Labrador says, Don’t bother looking for eggs this Easter.
http://i96.photobucket.com/albums/l162/harka_1964/Random/Velikanocodpade.jpg
These pears make me want to punch MY llama.
WOW! What a bountiful harvest of Pear this fine spring day!! Think I’ll spend some extra time in a stall….
I don’t think there’s enough pear this week. And after this my first week back in a long time I feel as though I need to seriously swab my eyeballs with jet fuel.
Where for art thou DB1? You have missed a stellar week of mockery, baggery, and sweet fap material! All I can hope is that after accepting your Nobel Peace Prize for helping to rid the world of douchebags that you at least make an appearance again to us lowly peons, and impart a bit more wisdom that we may continue the good fight.
And by “Peace Prize” I mean a giant bottle of Night Train!
Some of those links gave me a clicking sound and a lightning bolt on the screen. Or I may have just had my weekly stroke. And while on the topic of stroke I have 20 shiny CDN$ that says the Senators surprise the hockey world with a dominant win with a bitch slapping of Boston in game one AND Fred Couples hip holds out for the old school win and the Green Jacket in that old cabin where white men speak only in cliches. Catching their breath with veiled hatred for the average person. Those who will never get to smell the glory of the magnolias and cypress pines in the springtime while sipping on goblets of greed and eating hors d’ouvres baked on the back of broken unions and shame.
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Y’all
Dolphins are still quite intelligent on land, just not very mobile.
Self-portrait pear gives me a trouser snuggie.
Self-peartrait.
This picture reminds me of this Ciroc vodka commercial I just saw, and I gotta say The Chairman of the Board and the rest of the gang are rolling over in their graves. Elevating the douchebag and hipster cultures to the level of The Rat Pack is a crime against humanity, and a shonda, to boot. Sean “Poop Daddy,” or “Queef Diddy,” or whatever the fuck he’s called has been a Pack Bag Sniffer for years, and hanging out with a bunch of poseurs and hipster douches in Vegas with “Luck Be a Lady” serving as soundtrack doesn’t make cool, it makes douche. Even if you have Frank Vincent in the commercial. Billy Bats my ass.
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In the old days the Gambinos would put the word out on the street that a guy was a rat or a finnoc and the guy was done, but today it takes the Google picking up on phrases like, Ciroc Vodka is for douchebags, to get the job done. Ciroc Vodka is for douchebags, I says. Search engine optimization and key word searches: Ya mean? Viral, I says.
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It got me thinking how this new breed of Hollywood entertainers are, and I don’t mean to be indelicato, pussies. George Clooney, Tom Hanks, Mel Gibson, Robert Pattinson, Johnny Depp, Ryan Gosling, and the half a fag who played that Green Lantern, whatever his fuckin’ name is, among others, couldn’t hold a candle to the guys from back in the day. As I’ve said before, Frank had chunks of guys like that in his stool. Maybe Bruce Willis, Matt Damon and that Pitt character married to the skinny dame with the tits and the lips could cut it, but the rest of these guys? Fuggedaboutit!
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People think Cary Grant was a homo, but he’d knock Clooney’s dick in the dirt and pound the shit out of Depp, and when I say “pound” I don’t mean “pound” as “in the ass.” Go guy for guy in the remake of “Ocean’s Eleven,” and the new group would catch a beating from the guys from the original. Even Normy Fell would kick some of these new guy’s asses. You don’t know tough unless you’ve seen Henry Silva punch a guy in the duodenum/jejunum complex. And by now you all know about Skinny D’Amato. Can you say, “Ass Punch?” Sure, I knew you could.
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Even guys who couldn’t cut it in the old group would be too tough for today’s jamokes. Rickles with his stub dick, Jerry Lewis, Andy Williams, Jerry Vale and even Mel Torme would kick the shit out these so-called leading men, like Ben Affleck, Charlie Sheen, and the others. The shellack Lewis put in his hair would bring any of these new guys to their knees. Hell, Steve and Edye would be a fuckin’ force to be reckoned with. One look at Edye packin’ her strap on and wearing her high heels would scare the crap out of these types. Am I right when I say that?
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Red Buttons was a friggin’ terror and had made guys from the Persico family quaking in their boots. Carson would rip Leno’s anus out and make Conan piss in his pants just by looking at him. And the rock stars of today couldn’t go punch for punch with our guys. Booze makes you strong, drugs make you pussy. Sure some of these Brits are tough, but who cares. They’re bit players, supporting roles. Jason Statham, I says.
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For Chrissakes the broads back then were tougher than today’s guys. Rose Marie was actually a guy – had a joint and everything – so he/she don’t count. But Angie Dickenson, Raquel, Ann-Margaret (it was my idea to give her the hyphen. Hyphen, I says.), Mary Tyler Moore. And the big starlets like Grace Kelly, Ava, Lana and Ms Bacall would fuck guys like Clooney and Gibson and then laugh at them and say, “Is that it?” Totie Fields once crushed a teamster’s larynx between her thumb and forefinger during a commercial break on the Mike Douglass show because the guy spilled water on her. You don’t think she could kick Sheen’s dick in, a drug addled coglione?
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And the vodka was always for skirts, anyways. If you were sitting at a table with Frank, Sam Giancana, Fat Tony Salerno, Crackers Mendino, Ava Gardner, Angie Dickenson and Lauren Bacall you better be ordering one of the big three or you’d get a slap in the mush. The mush, I says. One night while shooting “High Society,” Grace Kelly threw down 7 or 8 gin martinis at a little get-together we had, knocked out Bing Crosby with one punch after he grabbed her ass, and gave Frank, and 4 of his Jersey goons, head. Kelly was a head monster and everyone knew she gave great skull. Then she went and married that testa di merda prince from that pissant country and we never saw her again. She totally dropped out of the scene.
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In one of those weird twists of fate I wound up working as an assistant to the cultural attaché for the board of tourism in Monte Carlo and the co-supervisor of the floor staff at the casinos. And when I say working as an assistant to the cultural attaché for the board of tourism in Monte Carlo and the co-supervisor of the floor staff at the casinos, I mean I made sure the local cab and bus drivers paid their weekly protection dues, was in charge of the professional girls who got guys to buy them watered down drinks on the casino floor and hotel bar, managed the pit boss skims and made sure certain packages went through customs without being inspected.
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Anyways, while in Monte Carlo I knew the princess was up to her old game. There was plenty of high end dick for her to suck in the royal palace, especially since she was married to that half a finnoc prince.
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The Big Three were bourbon, scotch and gin. Rye and any whiskey was also good. If you were a Sinatra suck up you drank Jack and Coke. I myself, never liked Jack. I think it’s because one night I was getting a blow job from Rita Hayworth and she puked on me in mid-act after she drank one too many J&Cs. But that’s another story for another time…
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But the point is, if you ask me, Ciroc Vodka is for douchebags.
I was going thank dark sock for the extra ass pear but now I have to thank DouchyWalnuts for another visit inside the world of Frankie S.
Ummm, a bum-per crop of pear today. Thanks for the booty-ful selection, DarkSock.
Well said, Doucheywallnuts. Whenever I see a table full of punks laying $250 down for designer bottle of booze, AND THEN to add insult to injury start mixing it pitchers of fountain poured soda, I want to run out to the Unimog and fetch my flame thrower.
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Not that I have a flame thrower that I’m admitting to. I’m not. I don’t have a Unimog either, so when you see me in it, stay the fucc away because it’s not me and that’s not me aiming a flame thrower at your gas tank.
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Incendiary vices
back lit pear has a stink wallet citing!
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. btw, on an unrelated note, if it comes up in polite conversation, what does one call an ass queef???
a ‘ploof’?
…just askin’
^Ploof is correct. And I have never seen nor heard of a bottle serviced Ciroc vodka. The only bottle service I get is around noon if I’m too drunk to drive and getting low on pills and beer and I start getting nervous that the wife might ass punch me if I ask her to pick up a case on her way home, cause there’s no beer store on the way home and she don’t like the liquor on account of the troubles seven years back.. So I call the local delivery service run by Ryan Gosling’s cousin (true story no respect for Gosling, he’s half a finoc as we have learned above and went to my high school while I was in university doing my thing) who sends one of his drivers to get me a 26 oz bottle of Smirnoff 50% delivered in an unmarked car in a plain paper bag he uses just for me so as to make it look like I ordered a submarine sangwich with assorted gabagool and shit so the neighbours don’t think I’m a lush, except when they see me cut the lawn crooked like. Manly discreet bottle service for a $4 premium and $2 tip cause I’m not a fucking cheapskate and these delivery guys work hard for their money. So these fuckers order vodka at a two hundred dollar premium and they have to go get it at the club. The Reverend is smarter than he sounds some times cause Clooney and those dwarfs and wannabees pay 20 times the cost of my Bottle Service (respect for Ryan Gosling’s cousin and my liver).
And I have a party going on in my mind all the time. Lots of anal visions of Dakota Fanning going lez with Selena Gomes when I’m bent, and sometimes
Hey fellow bag hunters just briefly checking in, I’m in the belly of the beast deep behind enemy lines posting from my fortified suite at the Venetian in Las Vegas. Seen a good deal of Bleethery going down here but the douche factor is pretty muted for some odd reason but I forget we are only at the head of the weekend. So far I nearly was puked on by a Bleeth drunk at 3 pm in an elevator and witnessed alcohol poisoning of a Bleeth in situ coming out of TAO as she face planted when her ankles gave out from having more booze in her blood than blood. Well have a good one brought Cap. Sr. with me the old boy has been having some health issues and I thought the desert air and smoke filled casinos would therapeutic for him. Well stay frosty out there fellow bag hunters hopefully I make it back from this hot zone of Grieco virus relatively unscathed.
‘so, this gal walks outta the executive washroom & she ploofs…an I says, “honey, ya dropped somphin”
@Rev,
I’ll take that bet regarding the B’s.
@Capt. James T. Douche (1:53 p.m.) –
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Thanks for the update, and I hope all goes well. Mock long and prosper!
Unimogs are cool, seriously I knew a guy who had one in Idaho or was Montana? either way very cool.
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I don’t know about the rest of you but the weather in my parts has been as outstanding as the pear that has been served up this. Throw in the return of Hermit and his prose along with DW reminiscences and it’s promises to be a great weekend.
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To Capt. James T. Douche Run Silent, Run Deep and by Run Silent, Run Deep I mean we need to see pictures or it didn’t happen.
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I rarely drink anymore and when I do it’s usually a couple of beers but if I was ever to come out of retirement and start boozing old school I would definitely try to make it north of the border to party with the Rev and hopefully he has Lenny The Box on speed dial.
Can anyone verify if DarSock has relatives in the Navy in particular the Virginia Beach area? Just Sayin.
Et Tu (2:34 p.m.), are there a plethora of speedboat crashes happening there?
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Otherwise, just a short drive up U.S. Highway 13 from Virginia Beach, one may find himself in Chincoteague. DarkSock’s favorite childhood book, allegedly, was this tome, and he may very well have lived there at one time. You may need to confirm this with him, however.
Clooney, et al might be a bunch of pussies, but they really don’t seem like douchebags.
As to designer booze, if booze is pricier because of excellent quality, I say that ain’t autodouche. $250 for Goose or whatever it is Puffy Diddle and his crew are hawking at some trendy club is Otto McDouche.
And, Ciroc Vodka is for douchebags.
@Wheezer
I was referring to the Navy plane crash, and yes I’m sure he’d be overwhelmed if he found himself in Chincoteague.
Great week Socky. And the hits just keep on coming. Too bad this can’t be your full time gig. Oh well, you’ve got like a life and shit so I understand. I hope everyone’s Easter Sundays are crammed with ham and minimal interactions with religious types. And if someone annoys the shit outta you just go by a different name until they realize how retarded they are. It see to work pretty good for me. Love you scrags. Don’t change a thing, except your underwear.
The pears are awesome, but really, who uses a Blackberry anymore. Talk about a boner kill.
If it wasn’t for the dudes in black and white shirts, I’d have given a “notta” and “goinpeace”.
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However, it’s good to know that the “nottas” in the picture are with the hottas. That rhymes.
I know what self-portrait pear is all about.
Now that Darksock is a big-time web site administrator young babes are sending him sexually explicit texts and nekkid pitchers and shit.
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I’d shave my balls and kneecaps with a dull, rusty lawnmower blade for a shot at a brief dry hunch with the dirty lightswitch pictured in that photo behind her.
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Dammit
amplified flatulence pear is somewhat like the fart mask
…but more attractive!
@Et tu
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So no PGA action? OK. Sens gonna bruise those thugs with balls. Freddie Couples hip gonna go out as quick as Oprah inhales grits at a po’ girls sanctuary while Gale King drags her pussy slowly in a dirge wagon nice and gently for the anticipated face-sitting session they had planned for o’ those long Southern lesbian years ago in the sunset of an Alabama hazy summer’s eve affection. Nancy Sinatra says “A for fucking Christ don’t do it on this night when Ron Hubbard is king and Tom Cruise the seed in his meatloins. Onward to seven Totaluayr Captain.”
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And there it started! The symbiotism of apes, falcons, and humans which make this place a desired stoner destination. I’ll handle the stoners man. Keep a handle on the chicks. Fuck off stoners. Wow man I’m stoned dudes got to go to bed. Wow! Can you see the polarized chickens.
@Rev, Sharks all the way. Hit the octobong six more times and then get on board with it.
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What can I say, its a gift.
Congrats to ‘Sock for a great week. My favorite part was the “alternate doucherverse” where the photos I sent had my original tag lines. Douche McDingle was sent as “Douchehole Dickehole” and photo above was “The Pinscher” along with “Artsy Window Pear”, “See Through Pear” and “Jimmies Pear” which turned into Sprinkles Pear.
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Begs the question, “Are they called sprinkles or jimmies”?
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Townies
The Texas Rangers Six Shooters Kaime and Liddy (FTW Hotties) discuss giant hot dog
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Video: FOX Sports Southwest Girls: Hot dog challenge
Hot Chicks With Douche Chimps
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@Rev
I’ll take some Masters action too, Freddie will wilt although I hope he wins cause he’s old school, he likes to garden and detail his vintage autos plus he puffs or so they say.
So it’s on re: Bruins beeyatch slapping the Seneators (No Respect). Oh on another note Watch the Flyer’s v Pen’s tomorrow. Should be nice and testy and by nice and testy I mean I loves me some brawls.
Uncle DarkSock kicks ass!!!!
That chimps got the right idea.
Could I just add a little bit of this liquid to your punch? Um,it’s alcohol…die of shitpox.
It’s worth losing a beer playing pool with Shanelle Loraine
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More Here
Shanelle second try:
Anna Semenovich almost makes figure skating worth watching. Almost , I says
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MMA chick Gina Carano would kick your ass and take your wallet and ain’t a goddamn thing you could do about it
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Wow it has been a great week and one could say I’ve been a Cheeseburger in Pearadise these past few days.
Unreal selection of Pear,,,fucking outstanding.
Punching Llamas, not a cool band name.
Insert lame pool stick joke about Shanelle here.
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Also, love the Russian broad with Semen in her name. I’d love my semen in her hair.
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Am I right when I say that?
I would jab Carano’s speed bags.
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I’d pound her heavy bag.
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I’d enter her ring.
Let’s face it. Sometimes on a rainy afternoon you are flipping through the channels and next thing you realize you have watched 3 hours of ladies pool. Nothing wrong with that.
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I prefer Jeanette Lee: http://ecstaticfreshness.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/jeanette-lee.jpg
Vin’s pictures have thickened my fuck hammer and are making me crave she-meat for lunch.
Anna Semenovich was forced to retire from skating due to injury, eh? It must have been the growth of those glorious boobies straining her back muscles or something. Holy mackerel…..
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And I would happily surrender my wallet to Gina Carano and let her lock me between her legs.
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– Wheezer, AKA “Captain Obvious #65243”
i peed in a buffet once.
i peed in jimmy buffet twice.
geezers.
Self-Portrait Pear: Playboy Playmate and known douchebag dater Jaclyn Swedberg
The creep in red is obviously retarded. Definitely something wrong upstairs going on with this idiot as evidenced by the fuckup’s stupid grin. He shits his pants a lot. The babes are average, run of the mill nobodies well suited for hanging out with these douchebags.