Friday Thoughts and Links
There is no God.
No God.
There can be no ontological meaning in this nihilist sea of seagull poop.
Not when a choadnut like Sparky scores premium top shelf Golden Globes like the ones on Kyra here.
Nope.
No God.
No God would allow this.
Not even Vishnu.
Here’s yer links:
Your HCwDB buy some shit to pay for this site even though I never update it anymore: Pooooooooooooopie!!!
Chicks with Steve Buscemi eyes.
The Adventures of… Duderman.
File under atrocious Brooklyn herpsterism: A DJ School for Toddlers. I blame Lena Dunham.
This week in some guy’s version of the Jump to Conclusions Mat: Poo-pourri.
The greatest obituary ever written.
For those who’ve seen the very artistic short animated film produced by Chipotle, here’s an excellent behind the scenes interview with the animation team.
“Frog Goes Croak” for the worst video of the year.
Okay, you’ve been good. Here ya go:
And by flux capacitor, I mean bum boingo.
Enjoy the weekend, kids. It’s only 2/7ths of our lives.
Wow……sometimes that’s all you can say as you gaze onto the wonderfulness of such a spectacular rack.
“That girl has notably larger than average breasts.”
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– Captain Obvious
It puts the milk in the basket or it gets the hose. The motorboat hose.
I like turtles.
.
Twin Sternum Turtles…
2 boobs 2 cups
I would dirt ski through a field of marble busts of failed U.S. President Millard Fillmore set amidst a field of frozen dolphin scat whilst being speed-drug behind a rabid nazi-speed-kicked Armenian drug mule using only my radically hyper-extended left testicle as the drag line just for the privilege of slowly poking her left boobicle 4.5 times with the eraser end of an unused clean no. 2 pencil.
Damn. I can’t remember any more of my old aliases.
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Oh, yeah…Crucial Head.
.
wait…
What the fox say?
.
What the fuck, say?
And while I read Freddie McCullough’s obituary with a sad heart, I must assume that Big Tittie Wanda is now free…
Peartothefuture is 90 days from cellulite. I can see it yearning to pop out.
“…… when it came to floor covering, Freddie was the best in the business.”
That’s all the fuck I need to know. RIP Freddie.
Twin Sternum Turtles = the main and best reason I love this place! Thanks, ‘Sock
More pics of her please.
Look out! His hand around her back looks like a dinosaur claw.
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RUN, girl, RUN! Run, fast! Towards the camera! In slow motion! On a beach. In skimpy swimwear!!! Do it! … RuuuuUUuuunnn!
3 boobs, 2 cups.
In the betwixt of that is between the Sultans once spoke of the Beast. The beast was the European “missing link”. Such a shock as to reboot ones head into battle with one chip shy of the optimal memory to spread into the past like a quintet of Hmong onto a neighbour’s lawn with memnonic abilities like those I possess and covet. Skate on young soldiers and avoid the hip.
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The song remains the same Son.
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And I like her young melons. And other shit.
DB1 nailed it. No loving and caring God could allow Kyra to be violated with the taint of such a repulsive bag. We all weep. And beg for more pics of that spectacular rack and innocent yet mischievous smile.
. Enjoy weekend
We down here nominate Kyra for all-time HoH. No bling, no ink, no fuckin’ attitude, no slut pose, just a beautiful smile and a body you would never give up for any pool-side, bottle-service trash. Period.
I grieve twice, once for each Sternum Turtle.
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And by grieve, I mean – well, you know
If I were Mr. Holland, she would be my Opus.
@Douchesdownunder: We up here nominate as well. Ink-free ta-tas of happiness. Into the Hall with you!
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