Friday Thoughts and Links
Ab Reveal in Presence of SluttyHott.
Still out there.
Still taking a ferret dump on the collected works of Shakespeare.
Happy Post-4th to all the ‘bag hunters who made it with me through the bumpy site upgrades. This place has always been held together with spit, twine, and bodyspray, so bear with.
Lucky Punkass is almost active, and that’ll give me a place to rant about other things beyond the hottie/douchey mock. But otherwise, HCwDB is HCwDB. Let us carry onward until dawn with a 1/2 a HoHo for sustenance.
Here’s your links:
In honor of the once-great-now-exploited Comicon, of which the DB1 will most assuredly not be attending, here’s your HCwDB Nerd Toy of the Week: “Well, you can’t rule the world in hiding.You’ve got to come out onto the balcony sometimes and wave a tentacle, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
Tentatively, the site seems to be working again. Cross your fingers, and have some champagne.
And some Champagne Katie. Even if she is still dating the oldbags.
I’m not normally attracted to Nordic Blonde Hotts, but when I am she’s Patsy Kensit in 1990. And Liz Hurley ain’t so bad neither.
Bro V. Douchebag at the Major League Baseball All-Star Game. I wish I’d come up with this joke first. Oh wait, I did.
Semitic Hottie Bar Rafaeli is now a hottie ‘bag hunter. When the models turn, so does the battle. What’s she mocking? This clown.
But you are not hear for soccer clown. You are here for Pear.
Pear submissions have been unusually high lately, and I’m not sure why. Summer Pear Fever? Anyways, here’s a tri-sampling of the latest:
For the melonious lovers among us:
And for the Star Wars geeks, the greatness that is…
Awwww yeeee. Thass what I’se talkin’ about, yo! (said in my best Lucas voice) Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.
Yummmm….droid pear
Ahem…I’ve been hating on hair gel publicly for a gold solid two years now. Pear is the love? Oh I get it, since I’m not a supermodel it doesn’t count. Tier 1 Hotts stealing my thunder again! Grrrr. I’m gonna go bate angrily in someone’s basement.
Cycle pear is an anti-boner. All I can think of is her clenching those boulders together and my dork popping off. If you can get CK to hold a champagne glass like champagne pear, DB1, I would nominate you for godhood.
Gotta love the tri-pear! That’s how ya kick off a weekend, natch.
Also Champagne Katie for HOH. I won’t read your other gay ass er lucky ass blog until she gets in DB1.
Cycle Pear bears a resemblence to Charlie, BJ artist of mid-90s porn. Anyone else agree?
SFW link:
http://here-look.com/pictor/GM068/images/IMG0076.jpg
@ Nancy
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Sing it sister. I have no idea why Champagne Katie isn’t in the HOH. And if you’re gonna angrily ‘bate in someone’s basement, well, I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’ll knock so I don’t scare or interrupt you.
At first I was horrified, and then a little bit ill, but now that I have calmed down I hope that CK is dating that smarm bag. That would make me a rocket powered slam dunk from orbit into the Great Blue Hole of Belize.
@ DB1
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Those aren’t pears, they’re pumpkins. Pears are firm, fleshy, and will fit in your hand. Those beasts are huge, look unusually hard, and will remove appendages if they get too close. Please linger in the produce section a bit longer before posting. Thanks.
I’ll take my chances with cycle pear. It’s be like concrete clenching around rebar.
Oh and you’re welcome for that pear. And spandex pear. What can I say, I’ve had a good week. 🙂
Hey, look what I just found!
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No, I can’t embed cuz I’m not one of the chosen, but trust me and have a look. SFW.
@Lawrence, I know. She’s featured here enough. She’s hotter than half of the skrags in there. DB1 can’t still be mad about her take down request. Half the chicks in there would do the same if they had knowledge of their pics being displayed here. I don’t know, it just seems like he’s still butt hurt that she hasn’t accepted his request for a date that he’s denying her entrance into the shallowed halls.
I’ll take an order of 3 pears, and a side of Bar Rafaeli. Let’s go, chop-chop!
Christiano Ronaldo is a major tool, douchebag etc; Bar nailed it when all the other players on both teams looked like they should look after 90+ minutes of sport this A-Hole’s hair was still perfect. He’s a whiny beeyatch and yes Lionel Messi is better.
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http://jeffsclutteredmind.blogspot.com/2008/09/why-manchester-united-sucks.html
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Here he is with his shorts pulled up WTF? after Spain dispatched Portugal a few weeks ago.
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http://articles.nydailynews.com/2012-06-27/news/32444943_1_penalty-kick-cristiano-ronaldo-andres-iniesta
Hmmm………… Cycle pair and what with the Tour heading into the mountains starting tomorrow it should make for a great weekend.
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Mr Biggs is alright in my book so cut him a break about his hair and his rain gear. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.
@McCrudeshoes, just wave a little cash, buy her ten drinks promise her the cover of Stuff magazine and you’re in with CK. C’Mon bro you got this and whatever disease that oldbag has after you bang her.
I originally missed the “Champagne” pic, If you look really closely you’ll notice an ever so slight Ham Dangle. I’d slurp the finest Bollinger as it dribbled betwixt said Ham Dangle.
In the main pic: same choad, different shirt?
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I think so…..
Hot dry weather makes the pear firmer and sweeter.
Agricultural fact.
I think I’ll spend the weekend on a taste test.
I’d bang all those pears if Mr. Biggs let’s me borrow his raincoat and walking cast. And I had some pizza and a few doobies. And more likely if they were passed out. Son.
Ham Dangler? That’s poetry, Son.
@RevChad, you’ve been outta the game too long broheim. Noone should have to stoop to such pathetic levels. Even you. I’m sure you can do it without exchanging goods for services. Outside your immediate family though could be a tall order though. Play on playa.
Bike Pear is good in general. That particular bike pear isn’t. Her glutes laugh like a hyena. What is cool about bike pear is the muscles – She just sits on your cocck and then jerks you off with her pussy. Doesn’t have to grind. Just plops on top and grip grip grip grip grip – next thing you know you’re filling her pussy with baby batter.
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Bike pear is good pear.
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But THAT bike pear looks like her boob job dropped into her butt.
Empire Strikes Pear FTW! hehee Princess Lay-ya!
Greased up spikey hair is the latest trend at the gay bar this asshole hangs out in. The slut looks like she gives good head.
Hey, finally got the site back up I see.
Preoccupado por tu boner? Preoccupado, digo.
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Also, don’t get all worked up every time you see CK in a photo with some dude. What do you expect from someone who is a paid escort? Discretion?
So, after last week’s post I laid low. I let Mrs. Wallnuts start my car and open the mail. She also tasted my food when we went out to eat. And aside from the usual odd phone calls, which I can screen thanks to the Caller ID, I didn’t get any heat from the beginning of my big reveal.
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Like I was sayin’, the mob had all kinds of movies and pictures of Eisenhower doing all kinds of things to all kinds of broads. Ike was bored as hell being stuck with all the egg heads at a hoity toity place like Columbia University, so he expanded his horizons in ways not commonly expanded by males who populated the realm in the late 1940s early 1950s. Ike moved on from the run of the mill deviencies and entered the rarified air where only a literal handful of guys had ever been. Midgets, amputees, retards and Quakers, Ass-to-mouth, Scat Storms and Golden Showers for starters. Made guys who had done the worst of the worst were disgusted by Ike’s antics.
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And besides Sinatra was bangin’ Ike’s wife Mamie, who was a real schivosa. Looked like a guy. But Old Blue Eyes had a thing for women in powerful positions, politically or otherwise. He chased after Eleanor Roosevelt for years before he got it that she was a dike, and his boffin’ Jackie O got him in trouble with the Kennedys and the rest of that whole crew. Meanwhiles…
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Forget what you read in books about the popular movement to have Eisenhower run for president and Truman hisself reaching out to get Ike to run as a Democrat; it was the mob, plain and simple. The history books are bullshit; they have been written by putzes. Putzes, I says. A St. Louis goon, “Three Fingers” Caleca, had the goods on Mr. The Buck Stops Here and, on behalf of all of the families, told Truman to take a powder.
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See, Truman had some “proclivities” himself. Proclivities, I says. And the St Louie mob had them all cataloged and recorded for posterity’s sake. For starters, Harry loved to wear a blonde wig and get banged in the keister whist listening to Sinatra’s recording of “You Do Something to Me.” That info – and one helluva movie of him doing so – was enough for the mob to convince Harry to not only step out of the race, but step out late enough so that the Democrats had no choice but to offer up a stiff who would run against Ike the Republican. What was it with these big shot politicians getting canned by dames? Oofa!
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“I Like Ike,” wasn’t a slogan whipped up by some hot shot political muckety muck who ran campaigns, but was a saying used by one of Ike’s New York City pucchiachas, “Big Tits” Tessie Fatangoolo, and taken off one of the tapes the mob used to blackmail (or extort) Eisenhower. When he was getting banged Ike’d yell, “Who do you like?!? Who do you like!?!” And Big Tits Tessie would yell back,”I like Ike! I like Ike!” We used to howl when we’d hear that shit on tape! Madon!
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The mob, at the height of its power in the history of the country, decided that Ike’s campaign would use this phrase for no other reason than they wanted to show the guys who thought they were in power, who really had the power. In the end it really didn’t matter, as the election was a foregone conclusion, thanks to the work the mob did well before the day people voted. Pucchiacha, look that one up, I says.
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Eisenhower not only won in a landslide, but had everything going for him as the House and Senate also went Republican. Ike could do anything he wanted, which really meant the mob could do what THEY wanted. Trust me, they did. For all of his expertise as a general, Ike fucked up the Korea war real good. It took two mob guys, Joey “Pancakes” Parisi and Frankie “Three Fingers” Coppolla, to make the best of a bad situation. You see, the mob ran the war machine in those days and controlled the largest munitions companies in the world, and they knew their shit. So while the war was considered a draw by most folks, the mob worked it out so they got a big taste from the profits and the US made plenty of dough, as well. Don’t buy that malarkey that we lost that war.
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Meanwhile, a young up-and-comer from Massachusetts that the mob had their eyes – and cameras – on won a Senate seat in 1952 when Ike won his landslide. Thanks to their successes with Ike and Truman, the mob actively looked for politicians who were whore mongers and set them up with their own puttanas in front of their own cameras to further their own interests. Even these mob goons realized it was easier to break a guy’s will with pictures and movies than by breaking his bones. From the time the Boston mob got a picture of JFK doing the “Fruit Salad,” they knew they had another politico on the hook and had found another pawn they could use to do their bidding.
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Next up; the mob squeezes their marks and the Whore Train keeps delivering the goods.
My Yogurt Pump pines (PINES, I says) for the buttock trifecta that Boss has gifted us.
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*PISS-BOY…BRING FORTH MINE LOTION!!!*
I like Sluttyhot.
What’s up with the triple Kardashian Stunt Pear? That shit ain’t right.