The Lion, The Witch and the Fungface
C.S. Lewis’s early drafts were far darker in tone.
Timmy's Sparkly Bowtie Has Supernatural Powers
I suppose I could link to the Animal House “thank you God!” clip, but lets try something else.
Manuel Acts Indifferent in Presence of Cleavite Arch
Stone-face all you want, Manny. We know where your gaze has drifted behind those sunglasses.
The Unholy Pear Fondle
Moving on, as bcs would want us to…
I’ve been going light on you with HCwDB pairings the past week or so. Felt it was time to smack you awake on this Wednesday with heinosity of unholy pear fondle.
Vegas Vincent is all that is douchebag essence. Essence du douchebag. Or, as the kids, say, a heaping pile of yak vomit.
I would gang tackle a busload of Armenian Lexus dealers dippied in Drakkar Noir, fighting through that sweaty flesh pile of immigration and desperation just for the chance to masticate on Suzy Pear’s bikini sweat in filtered tea formula.
And then I would lick-suckle Suzy Pear’s discarded summer lounge chair like arthritic crack aardvark until the security guard at Best Buy asked me to leave or he’d call the cops.
R.I.P. BCS
It’s just been brought to my attention that a long time ‘bag hunter in the comments threads, one of the original mocking crew to emerge in 2007-2008, apparently passed away at the age of 28 about a year ago. He posted comments as “bcs” from 2007-2010. His last post was, appropriately enough, on the October 24th, 2010 post, The Gator Transcends.
This is terrible news, and I apologize for interrupting regular ‘bag mocking to bring it. But it is important that we honor BCS’s last words, for they are HCwDB ‘bag mocking genius poetry:
———-
someone slather this crustacean with garlic butter and let plinky’s mom have at it
————-
bcs was one of us.
Here’s bcs’s Facebook page, and a website he used to run, now run in his honor. Contrary to popular belief, his pseudonym was not a reference to the college football association, but was just his initials. I don’t know what bcs died of, and frankly it doesn’t matter.
I guess if you run a site long enough, these sorts of things are bound to happen. HCwDB has permanently sponsored bcs’s Legacy.com site to honor his memory, so feel free to leave any tributes, but keep it tasteful (even if bcs wouldn’t have wanted you to).
I’ll pour out some Night Train from my U.R.C. tonight in your honor, bcs. May you be playfully mocking Pumpy in the sky tonight, and hitting on his girlfriend when he’s busy pumping clouds. Wait, that didn’t sound right. And yet I know bcs would’ve approved of one final Pumpy reference. R.I.P. bcs. You will be missed.
Pabst Blue Ribbon and the Herpster Complex
There was a time, not too long ago, when I enjoyed a tasty P.B.R. as much as the next red-blooded American male.
Was it good beer? Hells no.
But, as Dennis Hopper and David Lynch reminded us, it was pure of soul.
And let us not forget Leon’s clue in the great Midnight Madness. (Ah, the 1980s. When 40 year old actors played college kids.)
So what to do now that Herpster irony has appropriated the P.B.R.?
I remain agnostic on P.B.R.
I cannot condemn it simply for vicarious herpster taint. But nor can I celebrate it as I once did for its vacuous taste of rural Americana.
Mongo Stares at You
Do not stare back.
No, not even if Bright Eyes Simone giggle mellifluously in your direction.
For you do not want to experience Mongo’s infamous “Crisco Fondle.”
Legend has it you will not cough right for a week.
Abra Cadaver
In witness of the Abra Cadaver brothers peacocking display of bumpitude, the Sophie Sisters momentarily considered the majestic nature of the great fjords of the Germanic hinterland that haunts the collective unconscious. But the moment was fleeting. And thoughts quickly returned to Appletinis and daddy issues.
Ed Hardy and the Bleething of a Supermodel
For those hotts who have not heeded the warning I outlined in my book describing the Grieco/Bleeth path, let the tragic tale of Ed Hardy supermodel Simone Farrow offer yet another reminder.
———-
An Australian swimsuit model accused of being the boss of a global drugs ring — and wanted for fleeing $150,000 bail — was arrested after almost a month on the run.
Former Penthouse Pet and Ed Hardy beach babe Simone Farrow was extradited to Sydney on Wednesday night after her arrest at a cheap hotel on the Gold Coast Highway in eastern Australia.
Accused of trafficking “ice” in bags of bath salts from a plush Hollywood high-rise, Farrow broke down and pleaded her innocence on arrival at Sydney airport.
Flanked by two federal police officers, Farrow, 37, who has at least 19 aliases and a long-lost teenage daughter, claimed she only fled interstate because “someone was trying to murder me.”
Farrow has now been remanded in custody on charges which include the alleged 2009 drug operation. By skipping bail, Farrow put at risk $150,000 surety put up by a Sydney barrister and a flamboyant doctor.
—————
Hmmm… Australian barristers and flamboyant doctors. Whom has this suckle pooch been cohabiting with?
Farrow herself explains the toxic role of HCwDB cohabit in aiding her downfall:
—–
“I’ve been in … relationships with numerous underworld figures or whatever you want to call them and I feel that maybe they feel threatened by my situation,” she told The Sunday Telegraph.
——-
Here, we call them ‘bags.
Let this be a warning: Hotts who wear Ed Hardy are on the road to Bleethdom.
