Reader Mail: Blunderbus in the Ukraine
Reader Purple Punguine writes in with a tale of trolling for Ukranian Hotts on the internet:
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db1,
I was searching through a travel website for people to meet new people for the countries that they will be visiting and I was talking to a girl until I saw this. So the question I have for you is this, its snowing outside the lake is frozen and you have 2 ukrainian hotts with the perfect licking hight, would not looking or even putting hands on them be douche?? Or for that matter would the fact that hes wearing a speedo in the winter at a frozen lake be douche?? I beg of you DB1 please tell me!!!
— Purple Punguine
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This email raises far more questions than it answers. Especially the “I was talking to a girl” part of it. Please do not end up in a bathtub filled with ice and missing a kidney, PP.
As to Ukranian douchebaggery in presence of Ukhottians, hey, they work with whats they got. Sad Christmas trees and an Alien Welcome Matt.
But oh how I lurve the Ukhotts. Especially their polymorphously perverse kneecaps.
HCwDB After Dark: The Smell of Alpaca Poo
Perfect doe-eyed Quartasian Corrie and her three Besties (Ashley, Kelly and Ananda) smell something in presence of D.J. Fargin Icehole.
It’s either bologna. Or flies.
The Voguegina and Furry Amanda Strike a Pose
Strike a pose, there’s nothing to it, Vag!
Thank Tebus for Furry Amanda swollen mamm. An army of CGI rendered infants await suckle.
As to the Voguegina, I haven’t seen doucheface that angularly pudly since Max Headroom was painted by Georges Braque.
Yeah, whaddaya want, Petrarchian love sonnet creativity? It’s a Tuesday.
Joey Brolin Bemoans His Lack of Career with Boobies
Joey Brolin, less famous brother of Josh Brolin, and son of James Brolin, has found one way to bury the depression.
Surgical body parts soothe the pain of existential angst at a premium drink fee rate.
Muscles McEuro Says "Grüüüüü…."
Now is the time when they dance.
Herr Lipptatt takes the uberdouchey neck liptatt from Mister Liptatt to the international stage.
Inge wants to shpank my Semitic bottom with deeply repressed Teutonic rage.
Rick's Head is On Fire
No, the other head. Rick curses antibiotic-resistant mutation.
Laurie aced her finals. Now all she’s gotta do is pretend she likes Rick long enough to keep her bartending job through June. Even though Rick prob doesn’t go for women. No one can really tell. Shaved chest is no longer a determining signifier.
Somewhere in Las Vegas on a Monday…
Kevin forlornly orders a Mai Tai and sighs.
Ashley dances without joy, a vague and disquieting sense of unease about the future pushed into the back of her mind through a hazy mix of alcohol, cigarettes, and regret about last night. She makes a mental note to check with her gyno when getting back home to Phoenix on Wednesday.
A listless D.J. sits on a milk crate and plays Fun’s “We Are Young” for the fifteenth time that afternoon on tinny speakers.
Manuel cleans up the used towels by the jacuzzi and thinks about moving to San Diego to live with his brother.
It’s 2:34pm.
Harvesthead Approves of the HCwDB of the Week
Slutty Sonja offers Professional Mayan Eye of Coitus so she doesn’t have to pay for her drinks.
HCwDB of the Week: Orangudan and Vegas Kim
Last week was an epic week for orangeness.
I’d thought orangebaggery was fading along with distant memories of 2009 such as the odiousOrangina. But I was wrong.
We had Orangukevin and tasty Swedish Anya. We had the breaking news story of Burnt Umber Jerzey Mom.
On the nonorange spectrum we had the creepiness of The Yeeshasaurus and Sue-Kin-Chee. And the epic Pear, but possibly pro (and therefore disqualified Princess Pearielle and King Pooterface.
But nothing said Hot Chick with Douchebag unsettling atrocity quite like Orangudan and the tasty, if artificially inflated, Vegas Kim.
Chalk ’em for the next Monthly. And your itchy narrator for apple cinnamon instant oatmeal.
Annoying Orange
It’s been an orange kinda week, so howsabout some Annoying Orange to round out the weekend.
