Monday, May 28, 2012
Happy Memorial Day!
From all of us here at HCwDB. And by all of us, I mean those who like to mock shifty-eyed platinum choadwinks, and are willing to buy their hot chick a drink provided it’s under ten dollars.
May you pensively reflect on those who have gone before us to form this great Nation on this Memorial Day. Or around the world. Unless you live in one of the countries we invaded for no reason. In which case, I apologize that half this country are a bunch of half-baked maroons.
And may you find Spiritual Pear awaiting you as a reward from the Buddha God Head for such spiritual work.
Sad to see what’s happened to French Stewart since 3rd Rock from the Sun was cancelled. Pity.
Why did she take his back brace away from him? Obviously he needs it.
Is that a glowing albino yeti behind her?
Mmmm………. Spiritual Pear
If they mated – Rick Astley and Billy Idol
Did the gerbil just squirm loose?
^Lady Gaga and a scoliotic Gilbert Goddfried had santorum.
He is wearing a leather toolbelt because he is an obvious tool.
I am in the mood for some Spiritual Pear! Happy Pearmorial Day
*removes shark suit* – what was that about? must’ve been dangerous waters
Spiritual Pear ओं मणिपद्मे हूं
French Stewart love child fell into a vat of bleach.
Unfortunately someone dragged him out.
I take offense. At everything.
I believe I will spend the remainder of the holiday masturbating furiously to Spiritual Pear.
bye…
She gotta good booty!
I’m taken aback to Memorial Day 2002 when I lived in Seattle, and any holiday was an excuse for a large selection of the city’s population to go out and get hammered. I went with some friends to our favorite haunt in the Capitol Hill area, and we set about getting shit faced and to hopefully score some poon.
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It was well after my forth or fifth tumbler of Wiser’s Deluxe that I caught sight of a statuesque Vietnamese hotty, just barely clad in a short and tight green one piece. In my inebriated state, I couldn’t help but stare at the perfect ass she had framed by equally perfect long legs and taut torso. I glanced up to take in her smooth beige face and jet black hair, only to realize she was staring right back. Not in disgust or a worrisome please-don’t-talk-to-me state like I’m used to, but a deep emotionless, primal stare. I wasn’t going to pass up on this opportunity. I paused to down a big swig of Canadian courage, and then sauntered on over.
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She was sweet, very soft spoken, flirty, yet seemed nervous. I don’t remember one iota of our conversation, but it wasn’t long before we were sweating on the dance floor, and then exchanging that sweat and some serious saliva in a dark corner. After one of our tonsil hockey rounds she whispered that her apartment was near by. As we headed out the door, my arm around her waist I signaled to my friends with a salute and a shit-eating grin that I’ll be finding my own way home. I vaguely recall the walk to her place, and remember even less making our way up the stairs, through the apartment, and into her bedroom. Our faces were stuck together most of that time. All I know is that I was quickly thrown on the bed and having my pants undone by a heavily panting slim Asian beauty with a face that was bred for money shots. She flipped out my blood slug and began to dispense the most perfect, groan inducing blow job I’ve ever had in my life.
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I mean, this girl was good. REALLY good. Her tongue must have been attached to a swivel joint, because it oscillated around my gash mallet like that’s what its sole purpose in life was for. All the while she fondled my balls and massaged my taint like they were her own. I seriously wondered if she was one of fraternal twins and spent all 9 months in the womb honing her skills on her twin brother. I had to make her stop before it was too late. I wanted nothing more than to find out if she could swallow like a champ too, but I was just itching to shove my gash mallet in her sideways smile and drop my baby napalm deep in that gook’s Da Nang.
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My hand traversed down her heaving cleavage, which I was happily suckling on at the time, towards her black bearded slit to feel the wet steamy jungle that awaited my guerrilla cock. But she grabbed my hand as it started traipsing through her pubic hair and gently guided around to her firm ass cheek. Then with one hand covering her crotch, she turned around and got up on all fours, with the other hand spreading her cheeks wide, offering me her brown puckered starfish. Okay, I guess that’s cool. Maybe she was really afraid of getting prego. Or has some crazy VD or something. I suppose I could oblige her and pummel that anus, but I was really looking forward to getting all Full Metal Jacket on that vag.
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As I started rubbing the tip of my dick with all the precome on her sphincter, prepping the patient for surgery, I quickly slid my hand beneath hers to get a finger in the slot. Get some extra lube for a quick entry, and maybe some convincing while I’m at it. That’s when my middle finger jabbed into foreskin.
.
Hermaphrodite, she’s gotta be a hermaphrodite. In that instance I was desperately trying to convince myself she, er…it, had both sets of parts, because I could roll with that. Actually, that might be kind of cool. Give a chick a reach-around hand job while my mushroom headed mayonnaise canon is plunging her fishy abyss. I flung her hand away and went in with the other to hopefully, no…praying to fucking God, find a tight wet hole. Nope. Balls.
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Realizing this wasn’t going to progress any further, we both sat there for a moment, staring down at the bed where we were seconds ago writhing in exquisite debauchery.
SheHe, with a justifiably worried look, probably wondering what I was going to do next and if it would be violent. I was not thinking about what to do next, and instead started thinking about how the most enjoyable blow job I had ever had the pleasure to receive was given to me by a guy. Granted, I didn’t know it was a guy at the time, so it can immediately be discounted as a gay blow job. Well…at least on MY end of things, it wasn’t a gay blow job..
But then, I began to wonder, would it be gay to have
herhim finish the job? I had already been given half a blow job from a guy, and it wasn’t gay for me, so getting the other half still wouldn’t be gay of me. Right? Then I started justifying it with mathematics: Okay, half a blow job = zero gay. So half a blow job x 2 = full blow job, and zero gay times two still equals zero gay, yeah? But before I could come to any later-regretful decision based on ill gotten drunk/horny math for which I’d blame Archimedes in the morning,shehe started crying and scampered off to the bathroom. Uncircumcised penis and balls flopping around under those perfect tits and ass all the way. Time to bounce and find my way home..
The next day my friends asked me how it went with the insanely hot Vietnamese chick I left the bar with. Phew! At least THEY couldn’t tell it was a guy. “I was too drunk to remember,” I spit out without trying to look too ashamed, and hoped they would never bring it up, ever again.
.
That’s what I think about as we remember the brave veterans who laid down their lives for us. Semper Fidelis.
That was a beautiful ladyboy love story. If you would have let it finish the job you never would have known. Son. Stoned.
@Jacques, when your Mom reads this she’s gonna be pissed at her 3/4 gay son.
Rickastleybag?
She’s giving some version of a coital eye.
Spiritual pear,,,,great pic.
That guy has gorgeous hair.
Morepearial Day.
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Said.
Kettlehead and Billy Idol mated and produced a bastard son midwifed by Schneider the maintenance man.
Pompy looks like a toddler dropping a loaf in his diaper….or maybe he’s just thinking real hard?
I peed in a gash mallet once…
Gash Mallet is my new band name.
I think what I learned today is if you find someone who gives an amazing blowjob you hold on to them and you hold on tight. And if she happens to be an actual woman, jack fucking pot, my friends. Jack. Fucking. Pot.
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Blowies for a Better Tommorow
@Jacques I read your tome on an empty stomach and I am ill. I just threw up in my pants.
Looks like he has a peen burning sensation.
@Jacques, was the chick with a dick named Stephanie? Just curious.
Seems to be some dude and his twin tranny. Nothing in that mailbag purse is going to explain tranny-brother-insest man-sex.
I bet the douche in this photo has a voice like Wallace Wimple.
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Fibbers.