Barbaggery
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Saturday, March 26, 2011
Your Saturday Chinese Menu Tatt
You never know when Suzannah might want to order Beef Chow Fun in native Mandarin.
Your humble narrator just drank a flat leftover Mr. Pibb, ate two string cheese thingys, and tortured myself by watching two straight hours of VH1 programming. It’s a form of masochism. I occasionally like to engage in acts of self punishment for transgressions of the past. And, lets face it, that’s what VH1 is for.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011Asswipes in Affliction Shirts With White Belts
Still out there.
Still forcing women to pose in pseudo-erotic positions in public places to deal with the massive insecurity of a fractured and insecure psyche of a semi-working peen.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011Scrappy Sneaks In Through the Out Door
The title of this post has a number of meanings.
One of them involves sneaking in through the back door of the club because even if the girls of Minsk aren’t Hollywood Hott quality, Club Vedanya still has standards.
The other meaning involves gophers, a jar of Crisco, Julie Delpy’s sister and a small migrant dock worker from Bolivia with colitis.
Friday, February 11, 2011Angry Ernie and Daisy Mae
Angry Ernie, the spiritual twin to Angry Bert (aka Tendon Ted), does not like you either. He’s wanted in twelve precincts.
And the force is strong with his orange pecs.
Daisy Mae is a tiny little ball of perpetual giggle and vague ambitions to design clothes for her own store. And for that, we buy her free drinks and tell her she’s very talented.
Thursday, February 3, 2011Bob Is Not Actually a Maori Tribal Elder
But he fooled Judith into a half hour of giggling before she excused herself to get another cosmo and Bob hit on the waitress by showing her his headtatt.
The whole thing ended in disaster when the cheese fries they ordered at the bar were way too salty and Bob’s bro, Kevin, was, like, totally pissed at his girlfriend for forgetting his birthday.
And then, like they started playing Usher. Like, c’mon.
And then Kevin was all, “Yo, I gotta splits!” So Bob was like, “Bro! Hang a little longer!” And Kevin was all, “Where’d that chick go?” And Bob was all, “Forget her, she didn’t get on the Bob Train, she’s outtie!” So then Bob and Kevin all left and were kinda pissed off about the night on the drive home.
So while Bob is not actually a Maori Tribal Elder, he does experience tests of ritual passage in his own way.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011The Pouter Puff and Eliza
I’m not sure how much of a ‘bag The Pouter Puff really is.
Sure he’s got that whole “Punk by way of a sale at J.C. Penny” thing going, which is solidly mockworthy. And, of course, the Hitler Chin.
But what’s with the t-shirt of Baby Scarface? Meh, whatever. Here’s your stage-1 and take off, P.P.
Now lets get to the real reason for the post. Glorious Real World Eliza Dushku. I would sympathize with her failing acting career over lattes on Larchmont, while secretly fondling her pocketbook strap with strange tugging motions.
Monday, January 10, 2011Homeless Phil Collins Finishes Up His Set at the Worcester Dew Drop Inn
Hmm… maybe we should change the name to Zombie Phil Collins.
Juanita may have been impressed by the second set from Phil’s Bon Jovi tribute band, Slippery When Dry, performing nightly at the Worcester Dew Drop Inn. But Juanita still has to get up early for her final interview to become a flight attendant for Air Tran Miami.
So as much game as that paisley hat brings you, H.P.C., you’re still going back to the Motel 6 with only your tax lien paperwork to comfort you.
Thursday, January 6, 2011Homeless Phil Collins Gives You Both Fingers
Is this another pic of layabout East Ender douchebag Homeless Phil Collins?
If so, he’s regrown some hair, becoming more of a Homeless Bryan Brown.
But Michelle is quality overpriced First Date hott. And so Asian Bartender Ken tolerates it all, and studies for his transfer to Oxford next semester.
And on an only semi related note, Sussudio defined the worst of mid 80s pop suckage, and if I hear it on the radio again, I will call in and request the only suitable 80s pop antidote.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010Mechachin
Mechachin gives you his knowing stare.
For Mechachin knows that if the Tartar Sisters go above and beyond the duties of their employment and try to kiss each other, Mechachin will be there. To ruin it for the rest of us.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010The Fratbrosephus Bros Celebrate With Arielle
The Fratbrosephus Bros decided to tip their Smirnoff Ass and unbutton their shirts to celebrate Pavel and Steph’s win in the HCwDB of the Week.
Oh who are we kidding?
I ran this pic for one reason: Glorious Arielle. Her sultry stare stems Dutch spigots with ethereal waxing foam. Her pokey boobies sing twelve tone harmonics of mellifluous harmonic boobosity. I’d clutch fondle a lupus addled poodle just for the chance to fly to Jakarta and study Sanskrit at the foot of a sherpa who once hit on her sister at a David Sidaris book signing.
