Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Wallnuts After Dark: I Hope Youse Had a Happy Friggin' 4th of July

You know, some might accuse me a bein’ old fashioned, but to tell you the truth, I am old fashioned. Actually, despite all a the folks who act like they is hip or cool or whatever the Fucc they call it, old fashioned is exactly what they are, and what people want.

That’s why them cable shows an movies about them Mafiosos was so popular. They took them old time Dago mob types and put ’em in modern times wit the modern problems, but they was no different than the old Mustache Pete characters from the 1800s that was the original gangsters. OGs, I says.

They ain’t many shows about these hip-hope musical rapper types because nobody really gives a shit about ’em. Oh sure, the kids buy the music, but when it comes down to it, nobody is hummin’ any kind a rap tune when they’s walkin’ down the street, playin’ a M&M song as the backdrop to a romantic moment or puttin’ that music into any kind a serious movie or play unless it’s about one a them rappers killed by another rapper in a drive by shootin’, or some shit.

So, Happy 4th a July.

Frank used to have huge 4th of July gigs at his place in Palm Springs. Orgies, really. Everyone who was lookin’ to get their nuts off would show up, especially the Finnochs. I remember once walkin’ in on two a these guys goin’ at it hammer and tongs makin’ The Animal Wit 2 Backs in Frank’s cabana. Oofa.

But hey, as my Aunt Ro-Ro used to say, to each his own. She also used to say there’s a top for every pot, but in this case I ain’t never seen no top fit into a pot like that. Na mean?

At another one a these parties I hooked up wit Connie Stevens – or was it Connie Francis? – an took her back to my place for a little shenanigans. She had a great face and primo knockers, but when she took her pants off her legs looked like a couple a undercooked Calzones. Anyways, she was quite a handful in the sack. I forget which was which and when was when but I know it happened wit both of  ’em.

So I put on Jerry Vale’s album, “The Jerry Vale Italian Album.” Frank would a killed me if he knew I had that album, but it got Guinea chicks wetter than a fresh Buratta Mozzarella on a August day in Canarsie. She had the orgasm right as Vale was hittin’ the high note on the song, “Amore, Scusami,” an pulled us right of a the bed. Madon!

To this day, every 4th a July I play that Vale tune whilst me and Mrs Wallnuts is havin’ our intimate moment, and the fireworks really go off, if you catch my drift.

Friday Thoughts and Links

The Donkster.

Still hard.

Now prison hard.

Still with Ukranians who came over here on a crate through the Baltimore docks during a union dispute.

Okay, enough about the Dock. I am way too excited about Sharknado.

Why is Sharknado transcendent genius?

1. The tagline. “Sharknado. Enough said.”

2. It’s sharks in a tornado.

3. Ian Ziering and Tara Reid.

Normally I don’t go for the cheesy post-Corman bad CGI irono-horror films. But Sharknado is no ordinary cheesy schlockathon. Okay, maybe it is.

But there’s poetry there.

Lucid self-aware video installation art. It’s like Laurie Anderson by way of Maureen’s protest in “Rent.”

I’m there. July 11th. And I only wish I was getting paid to promote this. I don’t get paid to promote anything, these days. Hells, alls I do is drink.

Here’s yer links:

Excited about Sharknado? Don’t forget “Attention all hands. This is your captain speaking. We’re getting more reports of this half shark, half octopus creature that’s terrorizing the coast, but please don’t panic. There is a way we can stop this thing. Virgin sacrifices. Yes, the Mexican Fish and Game Commission assures me the only way to appease this beast is to offer it a beautiful virgin, preferably 18 to 25 years old. I repeat, sharktopus wants our virgins.”

Oh no you di’int. Yo’ momma! She got backboobs! These image insults brought to you by fifth grade.

I’ll take awkward perspective for $800, Alex.

Have I mentioned that Twinkies are back? Greenlight this, Hollywood.

In Japan, vegetables purchase you!

I have no clue what’s up with all the hipster “hey!” and “ho!” songs coming out in our post-Mumford moment. Something about reclaiming an analog, human sound in the age of too much digital overwhelm is my guess. Regardless, this is genius.

Okay, this is bad, I agree. But compared to Tebowing? On the one hand, murder. On the other hand, Tim Tebow. My Patriots fandom is being tasted like it’s 1992.

Evan Ferrante does the best Tom Cruise impression I’ve ever seen.

Regretful tattoos. The funniest slideshow of the year. Hands (feet) down.

The great Mother Jones magazine analyzes congress via Hipsters Vs. Bros paradigm. Bachmann for Top 5 Bleeth.

Technoviking in court. If you’re a fan of the Technoviking’s Nordic power, be sure to check out the genius that was Technoviking vs. Vernon Koekemoer, both of whom were douchestars on HCwDB back in the early days.

One of the Seans from internet lore bitches about having his douchey wedding mocked on social media. Suck it, Sean whatevers.

Okay, here it is. You’ve earned it:

Persian Bedspread Pear

And like that, it is the weekend.

Friday Haiku

He’s written a script;

An autobiography

Called “Homey Alone”.

Man cannot live on

Tight abs and great boobs alone

But it’s a good start

— DoucheyWallnuts

Macaulay Culkin

Since the gyroscope was put

In her Monkey Hole

— Rev Chad F’n iPhone

Her tits are furry

His tits are shaven so clean

They scare Culken stick

— The Dude

her look says it all

will finally get Big-O

home alone dildo

— creature

She shaves her llama

Since the gyroscope was put

In her Monkey Hole

— The Reverend Chad Kroeger

Happy July 4th!!

From all of us here at HCwDB.

And by all of us, I mean me, an Adderalled DarkSock, and your Saturday Wallnuts After Dark.

And greasy hair Sleve Tatt Steve and the Milfy Hott Fantasy you had about your best friend’s mom in sixth grade.

They're Number Two!!

Once again I must compliment whomever designed this weird transparent stripeyboob concept in the halls of fashion design.

You are a worthy successor to the inventor of the bikini, fine sir or madam.

I salute you.

With foam fingers.

Wait, what?

Moobs n' Boobs

———-

Dear HCwDB,

Evil Yellow Sunball

—————

Awww, thanks Evil Yellow Sunball!! It’s nice to know you fulfill all ex-pec-tations.

Get it?? Ex-pec?? Ahahah… hah… heh…

Coffee.

Breaking: Someone Was In Public With Someone Else

So this is apparently some “famous” porn star named “Stoya” with a formerly famous 90s alt-rock dude who took his name from iconic pop culture icons of earlier generations as an ironic statement on the very mass culture pablum that he himself now partakes in.

So they were together.

And they walked down the street.

And this is news because famous.

I’m like TMZ, bitches!! Take that, lawyer Harvey Levin!!

I post this pic because I like to keep up with current pop culture baubles in the news.

Actually, no. No I don’t.

I think contemporary TMZ-infused pop culture is a circus of ridiculousness, a reality show without end, point, interest, narrative, conflict, nor cultural resonance.

Not since the Paris Hilton-Lindsey Lohan frenemy war of 2007, which I will grant was rather enjoyable, has any of this idiocy held sway to me.

I enjoy mocking the anonybags and the real world hotts who cohabit in their toxic orbit.

Other than that, Hollywood is a silly place.

Pee Wee Baz Luhrmann

I’d Gatsby her Greats…

I’d Moulin her Rouges…

I’d Romeo and Juliet her Baz Luhrmann’s… wait, that doesn’t work.

I’d Australia.

Ah, screw it. Battleship is on HBO.

Blue Man Poop

It’s like a 1990s alternative theatrical experience mated with a Jerzey club at 2am on a Tuesday and pooped out an existential crisis that could shake even a post-epiphany Raskolnikov.

Yeah. I made a Dostoyevksy reference.

That’s why The Superficial continues to mint money and I sit around on my rug chewing on refried been burritos and sipping a tasty Mr. Pibb.

Remember to Get a Colonoscopy After 40!

The More You Know!