Friday Thoughts and Links
Cabanabags.
They taste just like chicken.
Like record-setting fist pumping, it leaves a stain on both asphalt and culture.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “A strange man defecated on my sister.”
Remember kids, if ya wanna help support HCwDB and you’re planning on buying stuff on Amazon, click through the Amazon links on the site before navigating to your items and buying them. It don’t cost nuthin’, and it helps pay for the site.
Long time HCwDB nemesis, The Mayerbag, may be growdsing up after all. Nah. He’s still a douche. Now a douche with botoxed vocal cords..
Douchebags at a rave killed two dolphins with a heroin substitute. No, seriously.
Remember in Swingers when Mikey complained that Tarantino bites everything from Scorsese? Turns out, Tarantino also bites things from 1976 Sonny Chiba Films.
Pop culture therapist pens article explaining why hot chicks don’t like nice guys. Unwittingly explains why no one likes pop culture therapists.
The great Bill Hicks explains why your children aren’t special.
Speaking of great 80s comics who died too young: Kinison.
In the land of the internet, the doucheface “Brogrammer” is King.
No, seriously. Brogrammers explained via URC. A whole new subspecies to be mocked as much as possible.
Morgan Spurlock’s new documentary examines the douchebag phenomenon.
Ayn Rand Explained in One Title.
But you are not here to laugh at just how badly libertarians need to pretend they’re intellectuals. You are here for Pear:
Too much? Okay, how’s about
They might not beat Wednesday’s Pear Party, but they’s enough to get us through a Friday.
Pearverload: must be the collection of DarkSock’s Pear posts from his first week subbing for the Boss.
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First day? That may be more accurate.
I think I see Mrs. Wallnuts in the Pearverload montage/collage.
Every time I see a picture of these Vegas bags it gets me thinking back to the good old days. Did I ever tell youse about Tom Jones?
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So around the time Sinatra and the guys started to get tired of the Vegas scene, the mid-to-late 60s, I got hooked up with the new group of show biz cats who were making a name for themselves out there in the desert. Tom Jones was the biggest of the bunch, an English guy with the big voice, open neck shirt and a huge crank that he’d highlight by wearing too-tight trousers. Trousers, I says.
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I became head of Sir Tom’s security detail at the exact time he first performed in Vegas, at the Flamingo in 1967. He had heard some good things about me through the grapevine, and also Skinny D’Amato took Jones’s former head of security up to the observation deck of the Flamingo, held him by one ankle and dangled him over the side of the roof until he decided to resign and name me as his successor. One of the few times Skinny didn’t need to punch a guy in the ass to get the job done. Na mean?
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Anyways, Tom was a huge hit right off the bat in Vegas and took more trips to the Nappy Dugout than Frank and all the guys put together. Nappy Dugout, I says. Jones was a nice guy and could get the finest trim at all times, but he also loved to bugger ugly chicks, as well. There were some broads who I woulda swore was retards they was so ugly, but they weren’t cuz they could dress themselves. Jones also claimed to have invented confetti. He had this thing going with Janis Joplin for years. Go figure, a faccia bruta like that, he couldn’t get enough of. Faccia bruta, I says.
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Not for nothin’, I’ve done my share of Bush Pigs, but this Joplin broad was the worst. A face that could curdle milk, a body like Carmine Basilio past his prime, and she smelled to boot. Like pasta con sarde. Oofa! Tom would come back from one of his all-nighters with Joplin and he would stink like a skid row puttana. Puttana, I says. He needed to do a full body wash with lemon juice, vinegar and hot water to make himself presentable. A douche bath.
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But Jones loved Joplin’s Panty Hamster more than all the Vag he got from the good lookin’ skirts, combined. If you check out the video of them singing “Raise Your Hand,” on the YouTube you will clearly see that they were banging silly. Tom really loved Gardening Uphill, if you catch my drift, and they had been on a week-long Punching the Starfish marathon leading up to the taping of this number on Jones’s show, and were both exhausted by the time they hit the stage. Punching the Starfish, I says. But they were pros and pulled it together for the cameras.
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Jones was really broken up when Joplin went tits up after OD-ing on Horse in 1970, and went on an ugly girl binge. He hooked up with Mama Cass in early 1971 and was giving her the Mutton Dagger right on up until she dropped dead in ’74. A damn shame, as Tom had been Running the Meat so hard that Cass dropped like 40-pounds, and this rapid weight loss was given as the reason for her heart giving out. The rumor was that Cass had choked on a ham sandwich. Trust me, the only thing she could have choked on was Tom’s cock. Or maybe my cock. Imagine that. After this tragic incident Tom swore off ugly dames and stuck with the high end snapper. He never had another broad die on him. So the story has a happy ending. Capice?
Nice guys are fine, just don’t be a doormat and have real self confidence gained from success in your occupation and relationships with close friends and family. It shouldn’t have to come from a bottle of Grey Goose or a hit off of a peace pipe. Women can smell that type of fronting from a mile away. And if she can’t she’s one of the dumb ones so who cares anyways. Mr. Nuttersquirt won me over with his rapist wit, his smoldering blue eyes and his giant dick. All in the span of 4 hours. Actually it was when I first laid eyes on him, but don’t tell him that. If his ego was any bigger he would have to apply for an additional life insurance policy. And we’re trying to save money.
That pull-up pear is outstanding!!! and DW hits another one out of the park. Tom Jones is the man!!!!
The Boss should have a new nickname. Pearholio.
Proof of Doucheywallnuts Tome Jones v Ugly Hacks . Watch as Tom goes like a magnet to the grosso grasso di maiale in the audience:
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@DoucheyWallnuts, I would toss my panties at you sir but my only pair is being laundered at the moment. If only the History Channel was this interesting, I would actually watch it with the Mr. instead of watching porn by myself.
I have eight thingsd to say about FTAL.
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1.Mayerbag looks like Johnny Depp in character.
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2. I was a bad boy and the Mrs. think I still am. But not like these preening new dudes with the facial shit..
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3.Not all kids are special. One of mine has a smashed arm and both have lice. Serious buzzkill.
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4.I don’t know fuck about programming no puters.
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5. Tom Jones has a big unit and used it hard.
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6. I don’t know who Morgan Spurlock is.
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7. I’m fucking drunk and stoned.
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8. I must read DW’s Friday treat.
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9. Nice Pears.
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10. What the fuck happened to Wedgie.
rapist wit?
Also the story goes that Tom Jones banged all six of the dames in “Pan’s People” from “Top Of The Pops”and with the two blondes in the same session
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This is actually very entertaining and not just because it’s Tito’s best bass line ever:br>
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@DW
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Nappy Dugout. That’s funny Son.
Tarantino also bit Sonny Chiba himself.
More genius from Wallnuts. I like to think we write much alike, which is to say we both write in English using nouns, verbs , such.
I have just read the Ayn Rand collection of objectivist, egoistic, individualistic shit. It’s all shit. But the douchebags we watch and take joy in criticizing are not egoists, they are second handers.
It’s a damn shame Nancy Drueche has left us for good. I rather enjoyed her caustic smartassery. She will be sorely missed.
We can only hope a newcomer such as Mrs. Nuttersquirt can somehow fill her shoes.
That story about the dolphins is bull shit. I keep a highly trained and lively stable of gerbils in my basement for entertainment purposes, and have subjected them to various drugs ranging from Lebanese hashish and muscle relaxers to full-body Vaseline® rub downs. I can attest unequivocally that they never once forgot to breathe.
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Don’t let those smiles fool you. Dolphins are nothing more than pre-processed cat food and tuna additive.
Ever see those commercials where that one Mullato (respect) chick is really pissed off about corn gluten in her cat food?
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I’d bang that chick.
The anti Douche: Jacques Brel… NEVER TO BE NEXT!
Naked as sin, an army towel
Covering my belly
Some of us blush, somehow
Knees turning to jelly
Next, next
I was still just a kid
There were a hundred like me
I followed a naked body
A naked body followed me
next, next
I was still just a kid
When my innocence was lost
In a mobile army whorehouse
Gift for the army, free of cost
Next, next
Me, I really would have liked
A little touch of tenderness
Maybe a word, a smile
An hour of happiness
But, next, next
Oh, it wasn’t so tragic
The high heavens did not fall
But how much of that time
I hated being there at all
Next, next
Now I always will recall
The brothel truck, the flying flags
The queer lieutenant who slapped
Our asses as if we were fags
Next, next
I swear on the wet head
Of my first case of gonorrhea
It is his ugly voice
That I forever hear
Next, next
That voice that stinks of whiskey
Of corpses and of mud
It is the voice of nations
It is the thick voice of blood
Next, next
And since the each woman
I have taken to bed
Seems to laugh in my arms
To whisper through my head
Next, next
All the naked and the dead
Should hold each other’s hands
As they watch me scream at night
In a dream no one understands
Next, next
And when I am not screaming
In a voice grown dry and hollow
I stand on endless naked lines
Of the following and the followed
Next, next
One day I’ll cut my legs off
Or burn myself alive
Anything, I’ll do anything
To get out of line to survive
Not ever to be next
Not ever to be next.
Athletic Pear Sucks.
Drunk last night,,,,,
– 16 hour, unemployed fist pumping champions from Akron, Bill Hicks, Dolphins on Heroin and Pearverload – this was a very informative posting DB1.
Pearverload magnified:
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http://www.shrani.si/f/3T/28/4likjZv5/6/asssssw.jpg
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You’re all welcome.
Why the hell did I get banned as “Pooch Spackle?
Welsh,British, same fuckin’ thing.
Did anyone else see Bobby Valentine give the ump the Malliocho that ran him last night . He was pointing and glaring like a hit man.
@Michelle Obama’s Persistent Chin Stubble, I will try my darndest to be entertaining. Kind of an intimidating group to compete with though. Hopefully there are at least a couple of weak sauce posters to make me feel a little superior when it comes to busting chops.
Pan’s People:
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Hot Pants
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Perfect Diversity: 3 Blonds, 3 Brunettes
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Not a one of them groomed much down there
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If they’s still alive, they’re older than your gramaw
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No anorexia
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No tramp stamps
Plus, that Pearverload has a zoom option that really takes you up close & personal.
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Thanks, Wheezer.
Kristen Wiig was given a nice send off on SNL.
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Now that she has all this spare time, that’s probably her that’s been posting as Mrs. NutterCunt.
Ayn Rand had some good ideas. You don’t have to accept everything she said to appreciate some of it. And besides, RUSH likes her (not the fat one, the Canadians).
Did DW say “Mutton Dagger”?