Wednesday, April 25, 2012
White Suit Wally Brings His A-Game
Ya know, normally pencil-thin facial pubes would be enough to mark ‘bag, but I’m feeling happy for White Suit Wally. It’s not everyone who has the courage to ask out Shy Sue from H.R. to the office party.
Good on you, WSW.
Have a nottadouche and a straight razor to clean up before work on Monday.
I believe that is an admonition to lose the lame ass chin strap there, WSW.
I’m normally not that attracted to blotchy brunettes with man hands but this one is really quite cute.
Qny pretenses that Wally had towards douchery have been wiped out by his eighties-schoolchild hairdo. Damn, get another stylist, son.
Shy Sue from H.R. might give of the “shy” vibe but I’ll bet the $20 CDN, that I’m gonna win from The Rev tonight when the Rangers advance, that she has a night stand full of toys & lube, screams a lot and enjoys the occasional 3 way. WSW can only wish he can handle her enthusiastic bedroom gymnastics.
He looks like a young Robert Dinero. She’s actually kind of cute which isn’t bad either.
WSW’s chick is i super hot. She reminds me of a young Mary Tyler Moore crossed with Eva Longoria crossed with my mother in the early 60’s and this hot chick. Mother?
.
.
Shy Sue is giving the Mayan Eye(s) of Draining your 401K
As a well known wearer of white suits, I hafta give WSW a notta for that, and excuse the chin strap, BUT also deduct points for the black pocket square….when a splash of color would’ve been a much bolder statement.
.
..
.Lagerfelds
Leisure Suit Larry here better hurry up and find batteries for Passionate Patti’s vibrator. I think if he can bribe the office manager, Randy Mandy, with the video of the mail room clerks going at it, he can get into the storage closet and find the batteries FTW.
Smug = douche. That rule must not be broken, and by broken I mean I’d wear a white suit if it brought me within a whiff of … what’s her name?
Shy Sue should re-draw those eyebrows with a little arch to them next time for more of a Mayan eye effect.
It’s the shy ones that are the best! I’m bet’n Dollars to Doughnuts that Sue is wilder than a March Hare in the boudoir.
.
ASvB
Shy Sue looks like a young Mitzi McCall who used to appear on Tattletales hosted by Burt Convey, with her husband Marty Brill. WSW is a dick, not a douche.
Latino Edward Norton… I bet 85 internet cents that he has white shoes, no socks. It may not be douchey, but it sure smells like olive oil and drakkar.
I’ve seen Choad The Douche Sprocket on TV here in Canada on some SoCal/LV channel and he does in fact wear white suits. He is the paler haberdashed west coast Tom Wolfe of the gastronomic literati. And speaking of SoCal where is my new longboard? Fucking customs always holds my shit up!
.
Bonfire of the Vanities
She looks like Bethenny Whomever from the Real ZZZZZ’s of Snore We Suck TV. She of the worst “celebrity sex tape” ever, Fat Blubbercunt (© Stackhouse Enterprises Limited) Kim Kardashian, Kendra Skank and Amy BAM Fisher included. Cunts all of them, cunts I says
What Vin sez
Def Latino Edward Norton. But the only warehouse this dude is fighting in is when The Men’s Warehouse has a sale and he’s got to wrestle this suit from a the World’s Most Unsuccessful Pimp.
^That’s some old school Nancy Dreuche mock, before her two front battle against creature and tall guy. Or was it a DP? I forget.
@ Dude McCrude, it was definitely a battle royale and I definetly kicked some old guy ass. Either that or it was like a virtual threeway with crankier angrier versions of the Bartles and James guys. Bleh.
I look eerily very much like this dude, but don’t recall any blackouts where I was wearing a white suit.
.
I guess that’s why they call them black outs.
.
After looking at Sexy Sue long enough, I am wearing white now though- maybe she can use some to clear that blotchy face
Mayan eye of Bat Mitzvah.
That’s not a Mayan eye of anything. That’s the Sideways Glance of “Get Your Fuccen Hand Off Me Before I Rip It Off and Shove It So Far Up Your Ass That You’ll Be Able to Comb Your Hair Through Your Ears” eye (GYFHOMBIRIOSIFUYATYBACYHTYE eye). I know, I’ve gotten that look before.
Shy Sue met WSW, and thought he was kind of cute. He was awkward, seemed nice, dressed OK.
Of course, she’s fairly new in the office. Didn’t know better. If she’d asked any of the 15 other women in the office WSW has hit on — and been shot down by — in the last six months, she’d have found out he’s a creepy dork.
.
Before leaving for this party, WSW splashed on his best imitation designer cologne and got all gussied up for his “hot date tonight!” He picked out the white suit specially for this night, when he was certain he’d get laid for the first time since he got that drunken handjob from the chubby chick he met on karaoke night at Shenanigan’s.
That was the last time he’d worn the white suit. It still held the stain, hidden in the folds of the pants like a fond memory.
These were his Sexin’ Clothes.
So WSW put on his magic suit, tucked the kerchief in the pocket and a ribbed sheepskin in his wallet, and hit the town feeling invincible.
.
Sue was excited. She’d just moved here from Chicago and didn’t really know anyone. At the very least, tonight would be a chance to mingle and make some friends.
Around 7 she heard what sounded like a loud lawnmower drawing closer. She peeked out the curtains and couldn’t — didn’t want to — believe what she was seeing.
It was a 2002 Tercel, faded black in color and apparently with a hole in the muffler.
Sue got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Wally stepped out of the Tercel in all his white-splendored glory. He confidently strolled to the front door and rang the bell.
Inside, Sue panicked for a moment. Could she pretend she wasn’t home? No, he called a while ago and the car was in the driveway. Could she fake an illness? Say her grandmother died?
Too transparent. She’d have to go through with this.
Sue quickly sent off a text to her friend Mary, more to let someone know where she was going than anything. She slowly opened the door and Wally smiled that dorky smile, the one she had thought was sort of cute when he asked her out last Thursday. Now it was just awful. This whole night was now awful.
She looked at her watch. It was 7:04. She quickly whipped up a story in her head about having to help Mary with a garage sale early tomorrow and vowed to leave the party by 10.
.
The door opened, and Wally’s right eyebrow raised up. He’d been practicing that move for years, perfecting it by watching WWE matches of The Rock. It was the move that made him look cool, that said, “Yeah baby, I think you’re hot. Let’s practice makin’ babies later.”
Wally could feel his proto-boner growing and shifted his weight a little so it wouldn’t show.
“So, Sue … you look nice,” Wally said in as cool a way as possible.
“Thanks,” Sue answered back, trying hard not to burst out laughing at the Scarface-wannabe standing in front of her. “So do you. Great suit. Where’d you get it?”
Wally knew she was on the hook now. Time to reel her in.
“Got it at Penney’s. Great deal on it, too. You wouldn’t think of JC Penney’s for suits, but there it was,” he said.
An awkward pause followed. Sue contemplated running in the house and locking the door. Wally wondered if she was about to let him in.
Finally, Wally decided he’d be a gentlemen and asked if she was ready. Hell, if things kept going this well they’d be back here in a couple hours anyway.
She said sure, locked the door behind her and they headed down the front walk to the Tercel. Halfway to the car, Sue glanced over her shoulder at the house, half-certain it was the last time she’d ever see it. She calmed down, then reminded herself of the garage sale plan and that if things worked out they’d be back here in a couple hours anyway.
.
The ride to the party was uneventful. The car was cleaner inside than Sue thought it would be — the lingering smell of burning oil notwithstanding — and they made some non-threatening small talk.
Arriving at the party, Wally threw the car in park and ran around to the passenger’s side to get the door. He tried to make it look like a romantic gesture, but the truth was the door only opened from the outside.
Sue said thanks, and they walked in together. Or close together. Sue tried to stay a step or two ahead of Wally, so as to give the impression they weren’t a couple.
As the night wore on, though, it got harder and harder to shake Wally. Despite Sue’s veil of indifference, he didn’t seem to take the hints. He asked more and more probing questions, which he hoped would help him … well, probe her later on.
“What’s your cat’s name?” Wally asked.
“I don’t have a cat. I’m allergic,” Sue answered.
“Oh,” Wally said glumly. “You really seem like a cat person.”
A long pause followed, as each took a sip of their drinks.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Green,” Sue answered, while thinking, “Blue, you jackass. My car is blue, my house is blue. It’s blue!”
“Mine too!” Wally blurted out.
“Sure it is, stud,” Sue thought to herself, before mustering up her best fake enthusiasm to say, “Wow! What a coincidence!”
Sue dutifully dropped a few reminders of her garage sale responsibilities throughout the night, and made it a point to check her watch every 15 minutes.
At 9:15, someone snapped a picture of the two of them. Sue thought the photographer was kind of cute, but was suddenly alarmed as Wally’s hand draped over her shoulder. Before she could clear his claw from around her neck, the shutter snapped closed and the moment was enshrined forever.
“Great. Just great,” Sue thought. “That’s probably going to end up on some website somewhere.”
.
At exactly 10 p.m., after three hours of evasive answers that convinced her she could survive a CIA interrogation, Sue reminded Wally of her early morning and said it was time to go.
She might just escape this yet, she thought.
Wally, looking at his watch, figured it was time to get down to business.
They gathered up their things and left, Wally sure to make sure they were seen leaving together.
The ride home was uneventful. They made some more small talk and pulled up to the house at 10:20, according to the Tercel’s glowing green digital clock, which was situated just above the radio blasting away some house beat with no words.
Sue thanked Wally for a nice time and went to open the door, almost before the car stopped. The door wouldn’t open, and Sue suddenly became alarmed.
So did Wally. His chance of getting laid was quickly slipping away.
He raced out of the car, opened the door and let her out, apologizing profusely with some excuse about it getting stuck from time to time.
Sue said it was OK, and started fumbling for her keys as she headed toward the house. She also felt a can of mace, and started playing out scenarios in her head.
“40 steps … 37 steps … 33 steps to freedom,” she thought.
Wally awkwardly followed behind, like a stray dog seeking a home.
“Well … thanks for a fun time,” he said. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Maybe,” Sue thought, while thinking, “Really!? Really!?”
“Well, I guess I’ll call you,” Wally said, suddenly realizing his Sexin’ Clothes had failed him.
“That’d be fine. I had fun too. I’ll see you around,” Sue said, turning for the door.
Wally turned around and started back to the Tercel. Sue entered the house and locked the deadbolt. She breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled and said to himself, “That’s fine. Playing shy.”
Wally went home and rubbed one out, thinking about the moment Sue stopped short to avoid colliding with someone, and he brushed up against her ass.
Several miles away, Sue thought of the same thing and shuddered at the thought of feeling his erection jab into her back.
Wally called, a dozen times, but there was never a second date. Sue accidentally picked up the phone and talked to him a few times, but was able to remain noncommittal.
Sue’s friends in the office occasionally made fun of the date from hell. She took it in stride and came out OK in the long run. She did indeed make a few friends out of the whole affair, who saw a cool and fun side to her.
Wally got a copy of the picture and posted it to a website.
Damn Morbo, probably a pretty accurate depiction of the night. Sexin’ Clothes FTW/L.
“Penny’s”.
OT Et Tu.
Somebody get me the number to his peach fuzz stylist.
Sue’s not digging Wally,and she looks like a angry biotch. And the themed disco night isn’t going too well.
She has that scared “what the fuck did I get myself into” look