Ned Drinks from the Pitcher
Sleeve Tatts do not not a boring-ass fratboy unmake.
Years later, while working in corporate accounting, driving a minivan, and raising three ungrateful boys, Mindy would reflect back on senior year and sigh.
HCwDB After Dark
It may only be June, but Santa Claus always has time for Pear.
Up late?
Pull up a chair. Hang out with me.
Grab a tasty chocolate cruller from the catered spread over on the alpaca lanai.
Enjoy a lapsong souchong latte.
And join me for a game Champagne Katie Chess Pear.
Pawn star jokes? Perhaps.
But first, I make my move. Bishop to Glute 3. Czech mate.
A Whole Pile of Disturbing Creepiness
I just hosed off my crotch with bleach spray shot out of a water cannon. I advise you to do the same.
Site Upgrading Continues…
In case you’ve noticed the site’s been a big buggy lately, sometimes going off-line, sometimes talking to me in a deep yet soothing monotone about playing a game of chess, I’mma updating the android sex slave robotics ’round here.
Gonna give this thing the Ferrari engine that powered Hoops to victory in One Crazy Summer.
Also gonna add a new personal blog where your humble narrator can rant about all things life and boobie hottie suckle thigh unrelated to douche mocking.
So hang in there.
And read the t-shirts.
For they explain all.
Orange Mike Doggie 'Bags Meghan
Gotta get a little classic HCwDB all up in this place after witnessing my childhood hero, Mr. Ford, morph from a wisecracking movie star into an old curmudgeon in less than thirty years.
That’s okay, Harrison. We’ll always have 1977-1982.
Trent Assholio
Shhh!!
You hear that??!?
It’s Trent Assholio.
He’s on the move.
The make.
The Mack Daddy springboard sexin’ bodysprayin’ move.
Can you dig it?
I said, can you dig it?
Luscious Larissa burps angels covered in lilacs. I would traipse through a barbed wire covered field of rubber boing boings just for the chance to drool and lick upon her discarded spa treatment skin peel.
EDIT: Site’s BUGGY as heck today as I’m upgrading everything, so bear with…
Harrison Ford Runs with the Goose
And the DB1’s entire world view implodes with the force of a thousand suns…
Vinnie's 30th Birthday Party in Passaic New Jersey was a Staid and Somber Affair
There was no joy in mudville last night.
But it was kinda funny when Tommy did six lemon shooters in a row and then sang the lyrics to “Here I go Again” by Whitesnake.
Where's Smugbag?
Somewhere in this lineup of fantastic top-shelf quality leg shooters, I’ve carefully hidden an itchy smugbag.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
