Sunday, March 8, 2015
Your Sunday Douchekiss
As Party Girl Ryan kisses His ‘roided beef-cheek with the tenderest of shallow affections, Beefer Sutherland is currently having the following thought:
A) “Unhhgghhhh.”
B) “Mmmm… grahhhhhwwwoooo.”
C) “Fwee…. fwee… fwee… fwee…”
D) “Eternal inflation, string theory and even Hugh Everett’s ‘many worlds’ interpretation of quantum mechanics all suggest a vast number of universes, and conditions have to be bolted onto each of the theories to get the number of universes down to one. Therefore Jager is the shit.”
Answer now!
I’ll take ~Guys I Want to Electrocute~ for $400, Alex.
Answer: he thinks he’s too sexy for his shirt.
Question: what is the matter with Party Girls these days?
E. Is it wrong that I get a boner on for our Fatherless Mooslem President while I take a tip from a young natural flower?
F. Is that Reverend Chad hiding his Jesus-size cock from me on the other side of the stage?
G. This job is great! Why are all these girls here?
D. He looks Roman – but likes it Greek.
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John Baldman stares at the band, and sizes up his options to stage dive.
A. “Is that the new 1978 Ford Thunderbird? Jesus?
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E) “Was this murse a good idea?”
F “Maybe she’ll peg me”
H) Tomorrow morning: Delts. Wednesday: Quads…. and Bench Press. I hope Mario is there to spot me. None of the other bros spot like Mario. Sometimes I look at Mario’s aesthetic… I want to tell him to work on his abs,… his abs could be SO TIGHT if he’d let me work ’em….
I) This chick is a pain ……I’m doing ass kegels and she keeps interrupting by kissing me and grabbing my sack
j) Is it time for a protein bar from my satchel?
K) I ordered a bottle of water and that Stackhouse dude bartender called me a “Jump off” then charged me $12 for a Michelob Ultra
L) WOW, my teeth hurt. Maybe I shouldn’t use those white strips 12 hours a day
M) Man, Hot Chicks With Douchebags has become a smut advertiser:
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Try Mobile Sex Dating at Mixxxer
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Nude Celebs
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Soloflesh
Vin D @ 2:50 FTW!!!!, I’m still chuckling.
F) “If Chestbrah could only see me now”
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http://forum.bodybuilding.com/showthread.php?t=164717241
Y)”Hmmm.. Aggressive Doggie? Sure I’ll try anything once. That’s a type of drink, right?”
P. “Is it one or two in my stink?”
X) I wonder what Mom is making for dinner tonight? I could sure use some mac and cheese with little hotdogs in it.
Z) I wonder if the bass player from Porchbeef Queef would take me home if I bought him a drink?
ZZ) Damn! I can’t comment on HCWDB, cause i don’t know how much 14 + 8 is.
ZZZ) I AM SPARTACUS!
N. I’d like to take Brianna Keiler to the U of Oklahoma, sing rape chants, and squeeze anal beads made of fresh spring Vidalia onions and oyster shells up her plump blonde buttocks in a caring, yet reckless manner with the aplomb of an orthopaedic surgeon.
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Frat Bras
https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRNGaXVa34LEFmSziD0oWuUGTWxxbC17z2gKuYuDlP-LarnT4hl
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Coon Gravy
Sir C. Douchewin won the last Fraiku with a pair of great white whale easter eggs…
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/blog/2005/04/fraiku-ye-olde-pyraat-edition/
AA) If all matter has both wave and particle-like properties, why don’t I shimmer when I walk?
X.) O’ mortal coil how thost flees my beating breath. Five sunsets until 50, I feel the necrotizing peniscitis crawling to my lungs from my nethers. No more to breathe the stank air of Miles O’Brien’s dismembered arm, burning
Jordanians, and Clinton apologists.
May the Misses lay me down in clover and shamrock shakes where I may wait to meet the Holy Netanyahu at Har’ Mageddon. May your faces be filled with well-aged poon and beef my Sons. May all your breakfasts be served by swole men named Stackhouse. May ye never marry the same woman twice, Ahum, or smoke too little weed. And may all your chauffeurs be Lenny.
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I bid you farewell my friends as the road less taken ends. Last breaths are painful, but not as painful as prolapse.
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And at the end of my days, the most significant accomplishment of the Modern Age Anno Domini.
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Let us see off Rev’s waning days as a 40-something, as he begins his inevitable slide into the black and e’er-hungry maw of oblivion and porch-beef-grade-poon, with this horrid spectacle from April 12th, 2005. It is a spectacle that requires no further comment…but since y’all here…have at:
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/blog/2005/04/fraiku-andor-caption-this-spectacle/
X) “Do you shave your piss Clam?”
Rev you should be glad you’re about to turn 50. Western Society only has about 30- or so years to go and who wants to be around for a dystopian era where we’ll have to pray 5 times a day to a fictional character whilst living among the squalor and despair brought about by nuclear fallout and chicks wearing burkas?
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Meanwhile, all the music and literature will have been destroyed as the digital era will have been brought to a close thanks to the EMP bomb delivered to us courtesy of the alliance of Russia, China and Iran. Porn and cartoons and electric guitars will be replaced by genital mutilation, reeducation camps and falafel.
@DW
What was it like in the Green Room backstage at the ol’ Johnny Carson show?
I’d like to know if it is true that Tom Jones had a dystopian, burka-wearing cock sack with an EMP. I like the falafel. And Peter Tosh was wrong. The world, and whoever shot cops with a pistol from 140 yards is awesome.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3MNT6QkAxU
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What?
I bet that if Kurt Cobain was alive today and saw all the hipsters wearing Nirvana shirts to be cool, he’d shoot blow himself all over the wall again, shotgun style. Fucking Millenials.
But Rev, if Cobain was alive today, none of the hipsters would be wearing his shirt
So – Et Tu Douche? won the last Fraiku and since I’m feelin’ generous I plied his post with a body-painted Hott, then Twin body-painted Hotts, and finally hott blonde body-painted triplets as his victory Easter Egg Links.
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But I’m sure it’s not worth the trouble to go see for yerself by simply clicking this here link.
Perchance…Los Sad Boy;
Erection Brings Fat Boy Joy
And over-drawn card
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/blog/2005/04/fraiku-6/
To expand on answer “D” – Jaeger is the Bomb
The co-opting gansta rap culture demographic of young and under-educated white men has a new douche du jour to rally around.
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“Stitches” – born Phillip Katsabanis of Miami, FL – is a prancing clown wielding a fake grill, fake AK-47, and pumped up street-cred as a fearless coke dealer (prob just meth) as his image.
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A lack of basic vocabulary and sentence construction skills are yelped loudly and strung into lyrical hooks, repeated ad nauseam. Out of context hood colloquialisms are interspersed seemingly at random, even more at odds with a white, smooth-faced and over privileged family man who strains to sell us on his toughness by rapping about nothing much other than dealing coke and fucking bitches. No doubt his wife doesn’t let him do either. I’m sure she’s perfectly fine with the dumb face tattoos and talking stupid shit as long as he keeps his nose clean and keeps handing over the paycheck at the end of each day.
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^ Damn you! Damn you to hell for making me watch that shit. I need to keep what remaining healthy brain cells I have left.
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I’m glad he could get all his bros together on a Wednesday night at the parking lot in the Econo Lodge. Must’ve been crazy mad yo tryin’ to coordinate schedules and all. The most expensive thing in that “video” was the bottle of Hennesey.
With cases like Stitches’, we should focus on the parents. In this case, on his Mom; IYKWIMAITYD. (from the Miami New Times)
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When I think Rap & Stitches…
@ C.D.
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When I think rap and Stitches I think
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I’d fuck his mom.
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And then send his ass the video. “Here’s how to make love to a real woman, son. Maybe I’ll plant some seeds in that box and correct the mistake yo’ daddy made.”
Vinnie D wins teh interwebz for last week’s Fraiku; check out his well-earned Easter Egg:
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/blog/2005/04/fraiku-6/
This spectacle requires no further comment…but by all means please proceed:
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http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/blog/2015/03/82074/