Pudwack
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Friday, February 25, 2011
Boobies and Stupid Glasses
I’m not sure which clubvelopment of 2011 confuses me more.
The recent development for the Hotts to ditch clothing all together and go with paint/sticker boob reveal, or slotted sunglasses that look like a leftover cucoloris used to light the set of American Gigolo.
The glasses? Standard douchewear.
The boob reveal? Now I am as big a boobal aesthetic appreciator of spectatorship as the guy on the subway who drools on himself and shouts about Castro. But too much reveal, while appreciated on a lizard brain level, also does not establish a contextual eros. Therefore, I must rule: Too much reveal = Bleeth. For there is sensual cleavite reveal. And then there is tape on the nip.
Thursday, February 24, 2011Frobot
Frobot knows quality pear when he sees it. In fact, if it weren’t for the stupid facial pubes, Frobot might even earn a nottadouche.
And that is most certainly quality pear. Plus “Eye of Coitus” bonus in pic #2. I would gnaw. And touch. And weep.
For the Frobot knows all.
As The Frobot will demonstrate when it beats Watson on Jeopardy next week on the Final Jeopardy Question: “This comical fictional hair product was featured in a 1988 comedy directed by John Landis.”
Wednesday, February 23, 2011Skippy and Timmy and Playboy Gangstas
Continuing our theme this morning of wily pudwacks who worm their way into situations well above their puberteric ranking, we find Skippy and Timmy.
Somehow talking Inga and Minka, the hottest exchange students from the local junior college, into posing for “Playboy Night.”
Now granted, Skippy and Timmy blew the last of Aunt Jennie’s 16th Birthday gift money on the ladies for the evening’s dress-up festivities.
But it was worth it.
Wait’ll the bros on Second Life hear about this party!! They’ll be jelly for years to come. Bro.
Monday, February 21, 2011Haylie Gets Fondled In Bryan’s Basement
High School Haylie can’t believe her parents are letting her hang out in Bryan’s basement.
It’s like so cool!!
Bryan’s parents like made a fortune in refrigerator sales, and, like, his basement is the social scene for 11th grade in all of the greater Indianapolis area!
Wait’ll Haylie tell her besties tomorrow! She’ll leave out the part involving awkward groping and douche sandwich crush.
Thursday, February 10, 2011Two Generical Pudwacks Buy Kyra a Molson Golden
Oh Kyra.
Your healthy yoga glow calls to me faintly, like a falsetto zebra from bad 70s-era Disney.
How your poor life choices task me like an arthritic leech hanging atwixt my scrotundae.
The Generical Pudwacks tell bad jokes. Their breath smells like refried onions. And the taller one checks Twitter while you’re in the bathroom.
So it is out of a protective sense of love that I hide out in the bushes in back of your dorm room at Colby.
Tell the campus police to let me go. I just want to go home and enjoy a tasty Malomar.
Friday, February 4, 2011Winged Shirts and Melon Salutations
Timmy’s a pudwack, nothing more. A stage-1 violation for the shirt, which is only an infraction in the state of California (and not a misdemeanor) lets him off easy.
Melanie counters any nihilist dread by offering us hope, sunrises and ice cream sandwich lunch tray gnaw through the proud display of two firm yet supple inspirational counter-arguments to any feelings of dread regarding the inevitable corporeal decay and eventual death we all face.
In the form of gazangagongs.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011The Wank
Some douches hitting on girl-next-door real world tasty Rachel Hotts like Rachel Hott here deserve incisive and elaborate critical deconstruction.
An erudite textual and thematic analysis engaging post-structuralist understandings of the generative modes of consumption read through a Birmingham School audience studies analysis of the meaning significations of their myriad cultural violations.
Others are simply wank.
Like this guy.
Wank.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011Porkuprong Kevin
Kevin was a solid minor league stage-1 doucher, what with the gelled up hair, stupid shirt and Hitler Chin.
But then he had to go for the subtle, yet smug, ass pear fondle of Glorious Hiney Curve Helen.
Which is just wrong.
But as wrong as it is, just be glad I didn’t slap you with Nuclear Kumquat as the main pic so early on this Wednesday. I almost did. But I gotta have some standards around here.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011Arnie The Rayon Shirt Guy
Arnie’s a good guy. He means well.
It’s just he’s had this thing for Sophie from H.R. for the past two years, and he’s so convinced that tonight is the night that he went into three figures to buy that Mark Jacobs shirt on sale at Nordstroms.
And now, sadly, we have to give him a stage-1 Douche tag.
But hang in there, Arnie. Even though it’s a minimal violation, we’re pulling for you.
And Sophie is quality gnaw, as is her B.F.F. from London, Maggie. So we understand the impulse, even if we do not forgive the shirt.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011The Biebpocalypse
New Rule:
Any feature or display of windswept Bieberhair by anyone purporting to be heterosexual in presence of hot chick results in an immediately and irrevocable autodouche.
I don’t care how normal you otherwise seem. Autodouche.
Cassandra and her slightly less hot sister Nicole both make a rustic wood cabin a perfect setting for tree hump and pensive repose.
