Wallnuts After Dark: What's With The Facebook and the Other Sociable Mediums?
I gotta say, I don’t get this whole thing with The Facebook and The Twitter and all a the other sociable medium thing-a-ma-bobs that people is usin’ today. I mean it’s kinda ridiculous to be tellin’ everybody everything you do by postin’ updates and pictures. And shit.
I tells ya what, if I had ever picked up the blower to call Sinatra to say, “Hey Frank, I’mst heading over to the Villa Maria to go see Nick Manna, the Greek Perry Como, sing,” he woulda said, “Who the Fucc cares,” and tole me to go Fucc myselves. Na mean?
But that’s what people use The Twitter and The Facebook for. On the phone, Pazzo; on the computer copacetic. That don’t make no sense.
And all the “thumbs ups,” and forwards and follows and hashtags and usin’ the friggin’ @ and # signs that I don’t even know what they is, and whatnot. Ah Fannabala, my head hurts from it all. If some guy snapped a photo a me with his cell phone whilst I’m out havin’ a few with whomever I decided to have a few with, and don’t want no one to know about, I’d punch him in the mush. At least.
The last thing guys I know want anyone to know is where they’s at and what they’s doin’. I mean I love Mrs Wallnuts, but as sure as God made little green apples, I don’t need her knowin’ my whereabouts when I’m abouts, if you know what I’m talkin’ about.
Guys used to go to great lengths to stay under the radar. Louie “The Fin” Finnocola wouldn’t never use no phone, no one knew where he lived, never got no mail, didn’t have a phone, would never say good night and would just walk out a place wit out tellin’ no one he was leavin’. Somehow he always knew what was up and where to be and I don’t know how the Fucc he knew all a the stuff he knew.
Friday Thoughts and Links
No matter the ups and downs of our world economy, no matter the ins and outs of politics and social upheaval, there will always be douchebags prancing in clubs, pretending to have fun as they desperately desire to pokey the bobble fondle.
Yet missing out of sapphic coital cuddling because of the need to impress a nearby photographer.
And so the Darwinian club cycle continues.
Like a washing machine filled with sea salts and puke and set on spin.
Here’s yer links:
Your HCwDB 1980s-era New York Book Pick of the Week: “…and it made me uncomfortable the way this guy was eating a scrawny chicken wing and looking at me. You know, I just wanted to tell him to knock it off and be a person.”
New Jersey. Ripping off the rabble with the douchiest of scams.
Cracked writes up The Four Douchiest Weddings Of All Time. Well done, childhood alternative to Mad.
But wait, what’s that? New Jersey fights back. Well done, Garden State. Another article on the story from the UK.
Well I’ll be dipped in dogshit.
Ever see Jesus Christ in a dog’s ass? You have now.
Real Vegas is awesome. Real Vegas is not running with the Goose for a thousand dollars while bad techno pumps and paid-to-pose Woo Hotties pretend to like you.
The greatest art project of the year. I often do this, but not in the name of art. Humbug.
The best way to react to Pear.
Speaking of, my new reality show pitch: Pear Chasers. We’re hoping to sell it to Fox.
Okay, you want real Pear. Well how’s about this:
It’s like a shmorgasboard of glute.
Friday Haiku
Kim’s in denial,
But her friends all know the deal…
She’s a Panda-phile.
Hook Ups with Panda
Sex Life is sadly boring
He eats, “shoots” and leaves.
— Bag em, Tag em
Well, they talked about
Bearing Ass. Dave was unclear.
Showed up as Ass Bear.
— Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifelt
It puts the furry
In the basket or it gets
The hose. The bear hose.
— The Reverend Chad Kroeger
Chastity Bono
Became Chaz Bono. And now
Is Panda Bono
— DoucheyWallnuts
Inflatapeople
New!! From Mattel!!
It’s… Inflatapeople!!
That’s right, kids!!
Just add vodka, wait four hours, and let the douchey pool party begin!!*
*Only $7.99 at participating Walmarts, PetCos, and other fine establishments in the greater tri-state area.
* Consult your physician before inflating. May cause irritable bowel syndrome, rectal itch, shingles, lupus, or a total loss of faith in a just and moral universe.
Orange 'Rus
Okay enough DD for today.
Time for us to get back to remembering what it is we mock around here.
Which is douches who run around clubs in Orange ‘Rus in the hopes of impressing real world sexy Semitic boobie proddle Rachel.
That, my friends, is unacceptable in a culture hoping to attain enlightenment.
Hallmark's "Say it With Donk"
HCwDB is branching out into the greeting card business. I anticipate this becoming a best seller.
Suggest your best inside-card slogans to pitch our first line of cards, “Say it With Donk.”
EDIT: Here’s our leading contenders:
“The burning is only temporary. I promise.” – Ted Brogan
“Hope the tests come back negative.” – Guid is Good
“I’m sorry the bone disease has spread to your left arm.” – FredN.
“Sorry about your grandma dying or some junk. Ummm I’m sure she’s with Jesus or Buddha or whatever. Anyway, uhhh, uhhh, crap why is this so hard??? Whatevs, Hallmark cards are for fags anyway!” – Capt. James T. Douche
“Congratulations! I heard you made bail!” – Scooby Douche
“Happy Fathers Day
Whoever you are” – Creature
“Thanks for the best sex I’ve had since prison!” – DoucheyWallnuts
“Happy Birthday! I got you a bracelet. It matches the one my parole officer put on me for home monitoring.” – Magnum Douche P.I.
Words of Wisdom from Donkey Douche
————
Ladies, when ur out at a nightclub please dont walk around the club barefoot! Its disgusting and trashy, nothing like seeing a bunch of drunk slobs waddling their black dirty toes in a grimey, wet, dirty nightclub/bar floor!
*One thing that makes women sexy is nice hands and feet, well maintained and beautiful nails! Also, the “shoes”. A women’s shoes and purse/bag should be the 2 things that show taste and style for that girl! Sloppin around with dirty feet while holding a beer in one hand and your nasty shoes in the other is a NO NO! But I guess this is ok and normal ☞ at the Castle! Dirty toes and cheese fries anyone?
————-
Scrattle Bob and Sophia Enjoy a Douchey Sunset
And the baby Tebus shat in a diaper.
The Woo Bros Horrify Kelly
Sure there’s uberdouches like Donkey Douche.
But then there’s real world scrotography.
Like the Woo Bros.
Solid color polo tees and synchronized cries of “Woo.” Usually accompanied by buffalo wings and a nearby television displaying competitive sports.
They may not be purity of spectacle suckitude. But they are soul sucking decay of ineptitude instead.
The Donk Runs Free!!
Yes, folks, that’s right. The moment you’ve been waiting for.
Legendary Hall of Scrote ubertaint, the one and only Donkey Douche, is now free.
Where our scrotal legend from the late 2000s sadly got in trouble with the law, and then more trouble, justice has apparently finally been served.
And by justice, I mean ubertaint.
For the Donkster is jailed no more.
Free at last!
Free at last!
Thank groin shave all douchey, The Donk is free at last!!
Free to pump up with his bros.
Free to hang with the Chandlerbag.
Free to bust some new douche tatts.
Free to make spectacularly horrifying groin revealing douche vortex self portraits (Not Safe For Life).
Some ‘bags come. Some ‘bags go.
Only the Hall of Scroters carry on forever.
