The Scribblographer Haunts A Quartet of Bobbles
I see you, Giggle Arielle on the right. Your mellifluous party giggles and unusually small toesies deserve only the finest of ostrich feather tickle. I would salt lick a tub of frozen peas for a fortnight just for the chance to gummi bear gnaw on your Freshman year college Hello Kitty scrunchy. And then repose with a tasty pack of mallomars, a glass of almond milk, and DVDs of Black Adder.
Juuuwan Says, "Challo, I Would Like To Give You eh Masshage On Ze Shoulders!"
Evil Yellow Sunball knows that when Juuwan says “shoulders,” he really means “gazangabangas.”
This Will Inspire U…
… 2 poo.
Wallnuts After Dark: What's Wit These Suicide Girls Schevotzes?
So the other night I’m switchin’ channels on the TV and I come across this show on the Showtime that is about these Suicide Girls, who is these half naked broads wit tattoos and the boobs pierced and weird haircuts. I didn’t know if I was gonna sprout a renoB or run from the room cuz I was scared. Na mean?
I mean the nakedness ain’t so bad but the other stuff I don’t know. Ya know? Sure, beauty is in the eye a the beholder, but in this case I don’t think I’m beholdin’. Or some shit like that.
Maybe the whole point a these dames is to confuse us an that’s what’s attractive. But I gotta say, I don’t ever remember gettin’ a turgid shwanz cuz I was confused. Maybe you modern kids get turned on by this new take on beauty, but for me I’m happy with great gams, some big jugs and a primo keister. A Primo Keister, I says.
Even that old Greek philosophizer Aristotlemeyer said, “To be beautiful, a living creature, and every whole made up of parts, must present a certain order in its arrangement of parts.” But I guess all a that just means if the boobs is where the boobs is supposed to be and the Snapper is in the proper place, then a dame can be beautiful. Then again, what I read about them Greek philosophizers they coulda been talkin’ about a young boy, and I don’t want no part a that.
Back to these suicide dames. Hume posited, “One person may even perceive deformity, where another is sensible of beauty; and every individual ought to acquiesce in his own sentiment, without pretending to regulate those of others.” Posited, I says.
Now see, Hume is one a those guys that if he was around the old neighborhood I woulda given him a shot in the chops cuz when he says stuff he makes my head hurt. I hate that.
So after I took a few Excedrin and my headache felt better I start to figure what Hume said about deformity has somethin to do wit guys who can Bust a Nut over dames wit tattoos and all a that other shit that us old-timers see as bein’ weird and killin’ wood, and that one man’s Chicken Cacciatore is another men’s Baccala Salad. Am I right when I say that?
An I guess it’s kinda like how some guys can look past a broad who has an annoying voice and can’t cut the mustard in the sack cuz she’s a real looker, whilst other guys don’t mind an ugly dame if she’s got a nice way about her and also bangs like the Dickens. Some guys like chicks who is all marked up like a retard’s doodle pad with metal shit stuck in they’s eye brows and the cooze, even. Who knew?
So when it comes to broads like these Suicide Girls, I guess I just have to agree to disagree, or some fuccen thing.
Friday Thoughts and Links
Mongor.
Still out there.
Still with hot chicks.
Still meditating on whether Spinoza’s search for philosophical morality via ethics can ever be rectified with Nietzsche’s ubermensch philosophy in a cruel and unjust universe.
So do not judge Mongor’s blank face.
Like Rodin’s Thinker before him, Mongor must internalize all tensions between the intellectual and physical states.
For only then will Mongor achieve enlightenment. In bed.
Here’s yer links:
My good friend since the college years at NYU in the 90s, indie film legend Will Keenan stars in the last 35mm black and white musical ever to be made, The Ghastly Love of Johnny X
Speaking of entertainment, there was a time in America when this was considered amusing. That time is, thankfully, no more.
There are ads. There are great ads. And there are Russian tampon ads.
And then there is real life.
In the news: Donkey Douche goes swimming, leaves bodyspray in his wake.
Douchebags. Still on Facebook.
Sydney Australia tries to define the Aussiebag, calls them “tossers.”
Note to self: Don’t fill pool with liquid nitrogen.
What will your humble narrator be doing in October? Why Son of Monsterpalooza, of course. Now that Gallifrey One has been overrun by late-to-the-Who hipster douches led by the Fake Nerd Zombies of Chris Hardwick, I gotta go somewhere where the cool kids still won’t hang.
Here’s an amazing interview with the great Kim Deal. One of the greatest shows of my teen years was seeing The Breeders play at CBGBs in 1992.
My phone conversations with Verizon Wireless Billing go exactly like this.
Uberbros waste time doing stupid shit while the world burns.
Okay, before we get to the real pear, lets start off with:
But Hardy taint overwhelms suckle thigh. So here’s your reward:
And all is right.
Friday Haiku
Guido Sir-Douchey,
Against the Laws Of Nature,
Won these Golden Globes.
Zoot Suit Menachem
Heidi Klum Hot regrets her
J-Date decision
— Bag em, Tag em
It puts the glasses
In the basket or it gets
The hose. Heidi-hose.
— The Reverend Chad Kroeger
The sunken chest look
is making a big come back
nice glasses douchebag
— Dick Lingers
The pith helmet says
“brave explorer” but the shoes
say “steam room valet.”
— Douche Wayne
The Clit Whisperer
Soon, on the Oprah channel
Check local listings
— Vin Douchal
Swifty Lazar called
He wants his eye glasses back
But not the white suit
— DoucheyWallnuts
Hiding in his pants
creepy has two young Thai boys
rubbing him with oil
— Magnum Douche P. I.
his Bar Mitzvah suit
is perfect for new career
Tel Aviv doorman
— creature
Benzino Gets Old, Rich Girl Rachel Still Hasn't Wised Up
HCwDB legend Benzino.
Still out there.
Still macking on quality hotts like Rich Girl Rachel.
Now with bonus shorts fold.
The Long Overdue Death of Ed Hardy
Speaking of famous deaths, we’ve been tracking the rise, saturation, douche pollution, and eventual decline of the worst and most garish of Douche offenders, Ed Hardy. And no, I do not mean the actual Ed Hardy (pictured here). I mean the brand. Created by this guy.
Now we cheer as this overpriced tatt/t-shirt hybrid monstrosity recedes, finally, into the past. Whereas once Ed Hardy and Christian Audiger fought over douchal profits, they now go their separate ways. A cultural blight akin to the 1917 influenza outbreak, Smallpox, and Hitler, slowly meets its demise.
I can’t help but feel our work here at HCwDB has done good for the universe when the New York Post writes an article about the douchification of Ed Hardy. Sure, a link or credit to HCwDB would be nice when articles read like I wrote them. But I’ve long since given up hoping for credit from fellow writers. Apparently if it’s live performance it’s yours forever, but if it’s on the internet, anyone can repeat it as their own! Them’s the rules of the internet age.
But lets be clear about this.
No, DListed and Yahoo, Jon Gosselin did not kill Ed Hardy. HCwDB, and the regs who brought the mock for so many years, did. There, I said it. I take pride in my life’s work, and all of your contributions to the cultural shift.
RIP James Gandolfini
So it’s apparently true that James Gandolfini died of a heart attack today at the age of 51 while in Italy.
Given I’d just polished off some tasty pasta carbonara, washed down with some Mr. Pibb, this is a totally crappy coda to that otherwise enjoyable meal.
I have no idea why I’m bringing up my most recent meal. Maybe because Tony Soprano ate so much on the Sopranos, and so I associate Gandolfini with eating.
Anyways, RIP Tony Soprano. A great actor.
You were the best.
Roland The Douchey Thompson Gunner
Bottle of Bubbly: $1200
Reserved booth at trendy Vegas Strip: $1500
Groin itch to last a lifetime: Priceless
