Thursday, December 27, 2012
Kisseus Vomitorious Cannot Believe He Didn't Win the 2012 Douchebag of the Year
Distant third place runner-up in the 2012 HCwDB of the Year finals, Kisseus Vomitorious, cannot believe his package didn’t place higher.
But such is the fate when going against eventual winners(losers) Sleepy Jerkenstein and Cindy.
The DB1 randomly finds himself in Portland, where rainy pizza is consumed and Powell’s City of Books is visited.
Dinner with The Baron may even await on the horizon.
Alack, my vacation continues.
In the interim, talk amongst yourselves.
Where does the shit stop and the asshole begin with this tool?
Ugh. Well this shines a vaguely new-ish light on things. In particular, that KV doesn’t own clothes. And if girls stop eating, they look like skeletons. The kind where they can be topless and you still won’t see boobs. Pout all you want KV. You didn’t try hard enough.
Good one, Vin.
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These two look like someone puked up late 1968.
KV scores a highly undesirable Ann Coulter nott. Karma is a muthafucka.
She’s got a big head!
She needs some huge implants to make this picture more uncomfortable.
Can I change my vote? KV was robbed. What a f’ing tool. And he needs to buy his anorexic bleeth a sandwich or somethin.
I’d bet that this bleeth’s earrings weigh more than she does.
Anorexic bleeths love anal, so she gets a big thumbs up from me. Plus broads like these are cheap dates, no food and a drink or two MAX, and then I’m stirrin’ her peanut butter. I hope it’s not chunky, I says.
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The Vegas book just made KV an odds on favorite for the 2013 yearly.
I learn so much here every day. Thanks, guys!
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And get over the Yearly. I’m still pissed that Shithouse won, but you don’t hear me sayin’ nothing.
Okay , so your bud’s been telling you about this party Friday night, we gotsta go. This freaky chick from cubicle “A” row “14” decorated with photos of Johnny Depp, black and white movie monsters and Heidi Klum wet bathing suit photos , y’knowthat gal with the nipple stud you can see when the air is full crank, yeah that one, she wears the yoga pants and does NOT cross her legs in the break room, so besides the nip stud he’s seen her seam cleft (and dude swears it was a wee bit moistened/dark one day) and she wears mid-shin do-me boots all the time
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She says she bringing her friend from her bi-curious support group that just broke up with her GF and wants to go back to men for a bit… mmmkay.. even though your radar is saying “Oh FUCK no” your sack is saying “Yay!”
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Yeah so you pull up two streets over and trudge toward the noise.. >> Untz Untz<>Untz Untz<< … some DJ is mumbling in a mic ," mmmemmber to seee HRickkee Hrikk for a bump, know what I'm sayin?" (of course "Know what I' sayin' ?"is crystal clear) .
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So on the lawn there’s a dude that thinks he’s going to be the third singer added to LMFAO and he smells like spilled bong water and mustard, “Ricky Rick”…..you buy what you think will be a nice smooth hit of “E”….
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You stand for a bit killing your walkaround beer then head towards the door….. The “E” kicks in halfway up the flagstones
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Then as you arrive at the door you are greeted by the door man, Kisseus Vomitorious, as pictured above…..
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You scream and run all the way to the emergency room in this ghetto neighborhood and tell them you are OD’ing….
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Two feverish days later, your mother picks you up and you spend two more days in bed alternating between nightmares and dry heaves… finally, you’re healthy enough to go back to work, but your job’s been replaced by the temp they hired when you didn’t show and didn’t call Monday
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Kisseus Vomitorious is a job killer. Job killer, I says
Bodypaint bukkake trainwreck meets the amazing pipecleaner woman. Love at first blight.
I hope someone bought this asshole some clothes for Christmas.
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That skeletal bleeth’s self esteem level is about the same as her body fat percentage.
His boobs are bigger than hers.
Make sure the Baron has his stomach full of fresh organs and blood before you meet.
KV could be in it for the long haul. He may be the modern day Cal Ripken of douchebags.
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Lou Gehrigs
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Is it baseball season yet?
Portland, eh? That’s not too far from my neck of the woods. I might just have to crash that dinner and share my extensive collection of Pogs. Oh the fun we shall have
Frére Jacques, I must say you have excellent taste in horrendously fat chicks. Those are chicks, n’est-ce pas?
Ya know, that ‘bag has a bit of the Pauly Shore thing workin’.
Body Paint Bukkakke (FTW) is the name of my new band.
I’m with DoucheyWallnuts! I think pushin’ y’er package in the front and feelin’ the bulge poppin’ out on her back could turn seaweed to timber!
he’s only 5′ 1″
http://msn.msnbc.com-careers-9.net/jobs/
….pretty sure Iggy could kick his smug lil ass
…oops
re: msn link, my work is like the top 4 worst jobs listed…with screeching harpies
Seriously though, I feel dejected.
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But that’s fine, just fine. You two have fun at your gluten-free gourmet vegan Peruvian restaurant, then go snuggle up together at your 1920’s bungalow just off SE Hawthorne with a couple of tall boys of PBR and watch a Gus Van Sant film.
I have plenty of other things I’d rather be doing.
@ Dude. I didn’t care to take notice. All I see is McDonalds, too much rouge, Walmart lingerie stretched beyond its design limits, and what appears to be a can of Budweiser.
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That’s all I need for a fapping good time.
Dinner with The Baron may even await on the horizon.
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This must be recorded for posterity.
Pizza Oasis? May I recommend the Spinach Stuffed Calzone? It’s an argument for vegetarianism.
yeah, let us know about the conversation at dinner.
last quote about the whore train jumping the slut tracks….well I enjoydit
ROFL that msn link is fake — “msn.msnbc.com-careers-9.net” is on the domain “com-careers-9.net”, not msn or msnbc . . .
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Meanwhile this photo of Kisseus . . . the Cal Ripken of douche indeed. He may have staying power.
I didn’t look at at that web site until you called it out, de.
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Damn good fake, if you’re the type that would fall for a work-at-home scam.
If this had been the first pic of KV posted on this site, no doubt the “ghey leniency” rule would have mistakenly been applied.
If you are going to wear your tighty whiteies in public, which I am not saying anyone should, but if in your meth induced craze you decide to do so, would you think that displaying your embarrassingly small penis is a good idea? I usually wait until she goes home with me before I take the gamble that she will point, laugh and leave or just point, laugh and go through with it because she either feels sorry for me or has nothing better to do. I guess the 12 year old boy next to KV is impressed.
If that chick swallowed a Tic-Tac her pants would split open. Throw her a fuckin cheeseburger for Christ sake.
I get the feeling the guy thinks he’s a lot hotter than his date.
Tattooed faggot hangs out with his post op anorexic tranny boyfriend.
K.V.’s painted princess looks like the singer for my fourth band, except my singer’s got actual cans and can sing like Pat fuccen Benetar. I pine for her, except this is the Casino Band, and Biloxi’s full o’ Casinos and short on bad ass bands, so I shall resist the Fleetwood Mac Impulse and not make this Golden Goose into a Yogurt Rodeo Train Wreck.
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My first band is a two piece that I sometimes step in with a drummer buddy when they get gigs bigger than wine bars and folks wanna dance.
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My second band plays classic rock and shit kicker country to drunks in juke joints. Think “Good Ol’ Blues Brothers Band”, without the luxury of chicken wire. Good times though.
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My third band plays bad ass hard rock from the 70’s thru today; STP, Zepp, Alice In Chains, Metallica…the most fun, the least money…Cretins.
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My fourth band, the Casino Band, plays whatever bitches be dancing to that weekend. Everyone in that band, include my hot as hell female lead singer, our Eddie Van Halen disciple guitar player, the Neil fucen Peart drummer and Yours Truly and bad ass players; all killer, no filler.
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Yep. I’m playing the music douchebags writhe and score hotts with. But as I play I give Stink Eye. So that counts, I’m sure.
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And there’s always that kinda drunk girl still in the bar at the end of the final set that just wants a 6′ tall dude she’s danced to onstage to be a human vibrator to take her home and be nice to her for a couple of hours. And they never believe I’m an architect, so I stopped telling them that and just say I’m in “construction”. But that’s not why I play music in beer joints. That’s how I earn plane ticket cash to see the Little Socks each month; $500 a ticket, more or less, plus a few hundred bucks for play money while I’m there in Sacramento. Because Momma Sock, after 20 years, decided to move back “home” and take the kids with her, as though a zip code will heal her childhood wounds and make her happy. Whatevs. That’s what 2012 was all about. Bummer.
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Child support is a bitch. Sons.
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But playing for douchebags buys my plane tickets each month, and the former Mrs. Sock, who’s fairly cool for an ex, made Daddy Sock his own room in the California House, far far away from Biloxi, and my boys are sleeping with me in a tent on the floor in said room tonight, and tomorrow we’re going into San Francisco to check out some big ass bridge over yonder everyone keeps talking about.
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Ho’s, Ho’s, Ho’s
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May 2013 suck less for EVERYONE. Except our finalists for D’Bag O’ The Year, 2007 thru 2012.
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Sons.
And Mother Fuck Fish Slap.
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I bought the boys, ages 5 and 8, the new All-Stars Battle Royale for PS3, and I was delighted to see that one of the weapons dropped to the various contestants during battle (Drake, Ratchet & Clank, Sly Cooper, etc.) was a BIG FUCKING FISH and when you wield it and slap your opponent(s) it knocks them the FUCK OUT.
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Sure, my sons cry when I defeat them with das Fish Slap, but how else they gonna learn up right from wrong?
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pesce schiaffo, figli
Her ass crack referees backyard Muay Thai matches in East L.A.
Too many tabs open, Vin.
I still have Benzino as our odds on 2013 Douchie favorite, but this semi-naked toilet boat will be stiff competition. And by stiff I mean he will be close enough to pump Benzino’s arse, if its a grower of course. I’m so glad there was a vacancy in the local McDonald’s dumpster so I can use their free wi-fi to unleash my weak mock.
I’m off to the titty bar to see if I can negotiate some desperate crack whore fellatio. God, I hope don’t catch something the soap can’t wash off.
Thanks for sharing, DS. Pee in a horse for me in 2013!
semi-naked toilet boat FTW
Young Marlon Brandouche juices up as Adult Captain America saving nympho Aimee Mann from Belsen. Hush, hush, keep it down, now.
But I can’t.
Raaaaaalph!!!!!