Reader Mail: Harry Palmerbag Says Goodbye
There’s no douchebag in this email, unless Harry falls into the category. We’ve followed Harry’s sad pursuit of Rockhell. And now it comes to an end. This sad paean to a unrequited love says much about philosoboobies:
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Subject: Jumping The Shark In a Bikini
First of all, it is not her fault. I blame society. I think my nine-year infatuation turned friendship devolved into pathetic obsession has jumped the shark. Rather than go into the sad details of what finally transforming me into a weak puddle of insecurities in a soft shell Kafka Bitch Beetle, I must resign as president of the Rockhelloholics Anonymous. I owe it to Her divinely-inspired Hotness. So that others can enjoy her timeless exquisite proof that God was a man without my mopey ass creepin her out, I must moveon.org and scurry out of her life like a T.S. Eliot crustacean and leave behind my dive bar bikini bartender hott center of my lost in space life.
and maybe take up Yoga.
Yours, (still Her’s)
Harry Palmerbag
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In the eternal dance of men seeking women, there is a fine line between romantic and creepy-stalking.
Dude. Get help. We’re only here to mock.
Yea, whatever. Who is the smoking pear in the red velvet booty shorts over her shoulder? Whatta clam on that babe!
You need drugs Harry! There will always be the one you should have jumped on the first night you met her and then the “friend” thing happens. Never happened to me cause of the legendary weenis, but I hear about these situations from time to time.
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On a related note: Fuck off Sandusky! You’ve either got huge balls or gone total narcissistic psychopath.
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Criminal Minds
There are women I have banged, and women I have not banged yet.
I do not understand this “friendship” thing that Harry is speaking of.
It’s not creepy until there’s a restraining order…
Early morning unintentional candy apple red Ham Dangle™ in the background FTW!!!. I’ll be studying the rest of the picture later as there seems to be some interesting scenarios going on in the background.
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Oh yeah, Harry is a mess.
Ok my studying is done, is it me or is that chick, in the picture right above unintentional early morning candy apple red Ham Dangle™, performing analingus?
I know it’s almost 10 in the morning, but my seven-year-old can write prose better than this cluster-F of an America’s Most Wanted weekly star. I must have lost 10 IQ points reading about his unnatural fixation. And concerning the three pictures: are they of the same girl?
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Hukd on phoniks.
Did Harry think he was on Facebook when he hit submit??
Harry- what bar does she work at?
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Since you’re out of the game, might as well let the rest of us have a chance.
I feel Harry’s pain. I met a woman working a booth at an underground flea market in Younstown, Ohio. I was instantly smitten. She was dressed in purple paisley printed peasant pants and a neon yellow halter top. She lactated a steady stream of profanity from ball valve nipples all over her display of plastic Buddha statues. After a brief conversation, we mounted her tandem bicycle and rode through the ghetto dragging a string of smoked pork chops on a length of kite string. Under a waning moon, we made love in the dusty parking lot behind her Dodge Caravan.
We still exchange Christmas cards.
^ @ Hermit
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Jeez man. When will you stop defiling Harry’s mom already? Isn’t it bad enough that he’s lost his mind over some serious grade C babe-age that he’s about ready to tie his balls to the nearest train trestle and jump? Have a heart man.
The words, “Sober up” were never more profound.
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Time for Harry to find a hobby like Ferrett Husbandry
Harry: Masterbate all over her car windshield in the bar parking lot whilst she’s working. That will make you feel better. Well, at least it does for me.
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RE: Babe in pic above. Cubs fan, so she’s accustom to poor performance, disappointment, and utter futility. Perfect girlfriend.
Call the cops on this prevert.
That fine line is misogyny. Which is also an antidote.
The best way to get a girl–especially one named Rock Hell, is to be a whiny, simpering little ‘soft shell Kafka Bitch Beetle’. Women eat that shit up…at least if what they are looking for is a dude they can talk to about all of the other guys they fucked or plan to fuck. Grow some balls, man, and quit obsessing over a woman who will never do you any good or give you any pussy–wait, that’s redundant.
She’s pretty meh. I’d jam it in her pooper but wouldn’t stick around for the no-doubt shitty blowjob.
Los Douches….. I sense a bit of “sour grapes”? (I can’t get her, so therefore she’s not all that hot). Don’t hate.
Where do you think you are? At the douche psychiatrist office? My report says:
Pathetic. Ball-less.Creep that can’t express himself to a women. You must be watching too much porn and can only relate to blow up dolls.