SnowBaggery
-
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Shaun White Dresses Like A Sirloin Choadsteak
I realize that something called the Olympics are taking place.
I also realize that this important relic of cold war myopia continue to occupy a place of nostalgia in the heart of Baby Boomers. Sad.
Such an antiquated notion of border crossings through sportsmanship. In the age of the internet it just seems silly.
even if they do have sexy curling.
I also object on the grounds that winter and summer are celebrated with Olympics while spring and fall are treated like step-gingers. Discrimination, I tells ya. It’s not right.
That being said.
Not sure who he is.
Am sure he dresses like a Sirloin Choadsteak.
Now how do I get out of this snowstorm? Someone send Jameson, stat!
Monday, December 26, 2011Post Christmas Tree Poo
For those of you who celebrate the season, I hope you didn’t find a douchewank under your tree. But I hope you did find Blonde Giggle Ashley. For she is pouty paid-to-pose. But might pose without pay if you buy her a Mai Tai.
For those who don’t celebrate the season, I hope your Chinese Food dinner was tasty and MSG free.
Gearin’ up here at the ole’ homestead. Lots of great pics came in during the 2011 Douchies (thanks to all of you who submitted), so we are well stocked for the mock to continue in the New Year.
But this week, your humble narrator chills with the semi-mock. Which is like bear hunting while reclining on a Segway.
Because that’s how I proverbially roll. Pun intended. And a stinky pun at that.
Mock on’, fellow hunters and huntresses. The game is on.
Monday, May 23, 2011Rocky Mountin’ High (Glasses)
The very sight of this pairing would have been enough to send John Denver into a tail-spin.
Tasha is the quintessential Snow Bunny that awakens my Bi-Polar Bear. Not a metaphysical one, but rather the one in my pants.
Her legs are longer than a Rotary Club speech, and they go all the way up to her soft downy fur…coat. What warm toasty treats are bundled within?
Well, how would the Snow Douche know? His glasses are higher than Reverend Chad’s last night before rehab.
His glasses are higher than Charlie Sheen’s monthly street pharmaceutical bill.
They are higher than Chef Paul Prudhomme’s blood pressure.
You get the picture.
This was all foreseen in the epic song-story “Bite Her and the Snow-Douche”.
Yeah, I just made an obscure Rush reference. Deal with it.
