Comment of the Week: Miler
Okay, it’s not from a thread, but as we approach the 30 year anniversary of one of the greatest philosophical treatises of our time, Repo Man, this Bud’s for Miller:
———–
A lot o’ people don’t realize what’s really going on. They view life as a bunch o’ unconnected incidents ‘n things. They don’t realize that there’s this, like, lattice o’ coincidence that lays on top o’ everything.
Give you an example; show you what I mean: suppose you’re thinkin’ about a plate o’ shrimp. Suddenly someone’ll say, like, plate, or shrimp, or plate o’ shrimp out of the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin’ for one, either.
It’s all part of a cosmic unconciousness.
————
Turkey Thoughts and Links
Captain Douchebag and the So-So Ladies of Amateur Wrestling (SLAW) says “Happy post-Thanksgiving day!”
Party Peen for the pungent putridosity.
Yup.
Got little to nothin’.
The Black Friday orgy of spending is noxious and toxic and reprehensible and all that is wrong with consumer culture.
And yet I drove to Best Buy this morning and bought a Galaxy tablet.
Because hey, when in Rome, spit on the baby Tebus like the Romans do.
Here’s your links:
When the DB1 participates in consumer culture, this is what he buys
Speaking of buying, if you’re buying lotsa stuff on Amazon this holiday season, be sure to click through the HCwDB links to Amazon and help support the site’s operating costs. In the immortal words of Blutarksi, don’t cost nothin’.
The best way to get into the holiday spirit in Miami? You guessed it. Dress douchey as shit.
Genesis of the Bleeth. With a hint of redemption?
Speaking of Florida, douchey-ass Camaro brings out the haterz.
Gilbert Gottfried reads 50 Shades of Gray.
Confused about Pears? Try this handy chart.
Okay, that’s it for links. You want your pear for realz:
And if that ain’t enough:
Don’t ever say I didn’t do nothin’ for ya, no triple negative.
Friday Haiku
Douchebag’s a Loser;
Hanging like a chicken neck
From a Turkey Wing.
O How I’d love to
Pardon her Turkeys; Fly free
Bra-Birdies…GOBBLE.
Ode for my side-part;
this douche has besmirched thy name,
embrace the clippers.
— Colossus of Choads
gobble gobble gak!
another heinous anus
douchebag and bleeth chick
— Troy Tempest
Did she earn those tags?
Yes sir! Works for Army as
Chlamydia sponge
— Charles Nelson Douchely
the ham & turkey
she has stowed away in blouse
have been well basted
— creature
Watch, glasses, D-cups
Everything is Super-Sized
except Juan’s dinky
— Morbo
She has been smiling
Since the gyroscope was put
In her monkey hole.
— Capt. James T. Douche
Her pendulous teats
Cannot distract us from the
Disgusting douchebag
— DoucheyWallnuts
Happy Turkey!
May all your cobblers be juicy! And your stuffing devoid of STDs.
And by STDs, I mean special tasty desserts…
Minigroo Snags Sophia, Wins at the Game of Life
You may now light your genitalia on fire. Reproducing is no longer a worthy endeavor.
Stevetatt McCrotchenfondle Wins the Trophy
The trophy is for Tiniest Leopard Package in Trenton.
Babs McBoobserson jiggles pensively.
Ubiquitous Red Cup left an hour ago for happy hour at the Oyster Shack off I-5.
And it’s T minus-3 until the Russians invade.
Yep.
I’ve ditched that idea about killer gum. I’mma pitch a new film, “Boobs Dawn.” Or maybe “Boobs Hawk Down.” “Boobs Lieutenant?” Okay, lets go with “Breaking Boobs.”
The Most Whitening Man in the World
He doesn’t always something something. But he is a douchebag.
Yeah, got nuthin’.
Things just haven’t been the same since my raccoon got hepatitis.
Rollin' in a Nightclub in Queens on a Saturday
It was all fun and games for Vinnie and Sharilynn. Until one of them reached under the seat and got their hands stuck in… the “gum.”
I’mma pitch a 1980s horror film called “The Gum.” About killer gum. You know, like this masterpiece. Young Paul Sorvino for the win.
Hairwolf
Can anyone here fly a helicopter?
Kelly’s Mayan Eye of Foreplay visualizes group coital globb fondle in glorious and healthy ways. I salute her 80s workout shirt, and thank Vishnu for belly pooch potential. For there is always belly pooch potential. Don’t believe the fascists.
Conceptual Paradox is a Cruel and Ironic She-Bitch
So what if I told you that the Twinkie will likely be saved, but it will now be owned by the icon of herpsterbaggery, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer?
Surely you’re joking Mr. Feynman.
The idea that my once-favorite cheap beer, now coopted by Movember Instagramateurs and rendered fully Beer-Bleeth, could somehow partake in owning my delightful golden vanilla snack cake treat, is a concept too paradoxical to comprehend.
But good news nonetheless, for the Tasty Snack Treat Diet ™ that I’ve patented will likely live on.
Ah, screw it.
Lets get some Lil’ Debbie instead.
