Wallnuts After Dark – What's With This The American Idol Show?
Madonna Mia, what is with this The American Idol show?
Now I know Mariah Carey from the A.M. radio. I think I got one a dem albums on the 8-track. She’s a real classy dame that I know Frank and the guys woulda loved. Plus she’s got one a them big ole natural racks that you don’t sees too much anymore. Ella Fitzgerald had a set like that, but she was as ugly a dame as there ever was! Even though she was a real sweetheart and loved to bang like the Dickens. Not Charles Dickens. Dickens as in those dick gumshoes who used to work the cases that Mickey Cohen didn’t pay off.
Anways, Ella. She could sing great, too. Frank really loved Ella. But as a musician. Not in a bang kinda way.
So I seen this Nicki Garage, with the pink hair, and I gotta go an find out what she sounds like on her albums. I still haven’t figured out how black dames have blonde hair and straight hair, so the pink hair really trows me off. Na mean? So I goes to The Google and find out she has some big hits and is a rapper of some sort. Then I went to The iTunes and listened to some a her songs, and I gotta say they was all horse shit.
So this Nicki Garage has a hit song that talks about pissin’ on some other dame. Oofa! How does that make any sense?
The other guy, who I guess is the star of the show, that Ryan Seachest, is really Finnochy, but in an appealin’ kinda way. Now I don’t know if he goes the other way, and believe you me I ain’t no Finnoch myself, but I wouldn’t blame no other Finnoch for bein’ attracted to this Seachest character. He’s very neat, dresses nice and has cute hair, which in my experience means he’s light in his loafers, if you catch my drift.
Friday Thoughts and Links
It’s Friday, bitches!!
And like that Rebecca Black song that went down the memory hole after Winston Smith cut out any mentions of it from our collective brainstem cloud consciousness, it is something something.
And by something, I mean retro stupid herpster assmunch.
So’s I got that going for me.
That, and Hollywood smells like John Madden’s Fast Actin’ Tinactin decided to act slowly, and instead turncoat joined forces with CGI animated foot fungus.
Foot fungus.
It’s like spores. Only on your feet.
Yup.
Babblin’ like a fish that needs a bicycle.
Tell ’em, Bono. Okay Edge! Play the blues!.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Early 1990s DVD Box Set of the Week: “Shut Yer Stinkin’ Trap!”
The late, great Skweezy Jibbs does Tha Harlem Shake. Guggenheim, I says.
What’s better than a hot swimsuit model? A hot funny swimsuit model.
What’s the best way to repair a car in Florida? Play-doh. Sounds like the driver will be the one saying doh! Aha! Ahahaha! Haha… heh. meh.
Two minutes of nothing but goats yelling like humans. I had a similar experience. But it was with alpacas. And it is private.
Not the best name for a flower shop.
What’s the greatest everything in the history of everything? This is the greatest everything in the history of everything.
Okay, enough of that. Lets get to the goods:
not enough? Have some
For it is all that spring’s blossoms promise of tilt-a-whirl imagination.
Friday Haiku
Why did Mickey Mouse
Divorce Minnie Mouse? Because she
Was f*cking Goofy.
Ugh. Let’s try another:
The two most hated
Kinds of deviants on earth:
Furries and Douchebags
Senile old man drives
his Delta Eighty-Eight on
sidewalk, problem solved.
— UFO Destroyers
She won’t do Pluto
Since the gyroscope was put
In her Mickey Hole.
— The Reverend Chad Kroeger
Ridiculous hat
huge, oversized, clowny shoes
Mice look stupid, too.
— Douche Wayne
Slip blonde a Mickey
Benzino misses the point
His “mini” thwarted
— Et Tu Douche?
Vermin and Varmints
Roam the streets of Las Vegas
Where is Carl Spackler?
— DoucheyWallnuts
Howlin' Woof
Stupid necklaces at the beach, kids.
It may not be puka shell.
But it smells just as stenchuously like the Coney Island Whitefish that wash ashore Miami Beach after high tide on a Thursday.
Giggle Gina’s heaving bosoms are crushed beneath the cultural taint.
Benzino Feels the Douchewaves Emitting from K.V. – Pledges to Act Even Douchier
This competition’s gonna take gettin’ swole, shredded, jacked, fondled, fingered, bones, clams, and whatever else we say in the parlance of our times..
The Women of LA
Pure genius and the story of my move to L.A., complete with nerdy Jewish doppelganger.
“You’re not in Murray Hill anymore, bro” for the win.
A Whole Bunch of Herpster Assmunch Hits on Desiree
William Herpsterassmunch, come on down!!
You’re the next contestant on Why Old People Should Not Establish Trustfunds for their Grandchildren Without Getting To Know Them First!
Kisseus Vomitorious Wants to Pump You in the Hanficapped Stall
The Vomitorious himself writes in to deny accusations of high percentage bodyfat:
—————-
KV Here,
Took about 3 weeks I was on a straight no gym clubbing only plan. Bench pressing bitches. Curling girls and squating skanks. Running my mouth and sex for cardio. Haters gonna hate. Calvin bangin gonna bang. You mad bras? It’s f@#king shredding season get off the computer and meet me in the club where we will do pushups to pump up together in the hanficapped stall and hit the dance floor!
—————-
I used to occasionally squat skanks after eating Indian food. I find that an extra glass of water before you go to bed can help.
Love in the Time of Collar-Up
Here’s a story that can only be understood if the entirety of symbolic meaning is taken into account.
First we have Groovin’ Brothabag Woody in the pink leisure suit. Groovin’ Brothabag Woody is our spirit guide, our shaman, our subjective interloper in the spirit world.
Then we have our protagonist, Silk Shirt Steve. A stage-1 or stage-2 ‘bag for the lip pubes and sleeve fold maneuver.
Our heroine, delightful belly spankle pooch fondle Samantha offers all that angels sing in cherubic medieval butt revealing harpsichordian song. Hers are the earlobes that I would wistfully tickle and clasp with knock-kneed knock knees. Her black dress sheen promises a reveal of nakedness that far surpasses anticipation, one of the rarest of joys in this cold and chaotic world. I would fondle. Indeed. Oh yes. And oh yes.
And then, our Collar-Up antagonist, Earl. Who is ironic. And drinks PBR. And has just taken headshots in the hopes of getting cast in a Heineken commercial.
Reader Mail: More Bleethy Hotts!!
Gamecockbag writes in with a demand, along with the following pics.
———
Did some fat Guido take over this site?
There used to be a few Bleeth’s with the usual bag but for the most part it was a site dedicated to 7’s, 8’s 9’s and a rare 10 looking hot as all hell making horrible life choices with bags.
Lately the pics are all of chubby Jersey Shore fans and herpster gals. I heart this site and have for years. Get it together!!!
Yours truely,
-Gamecockbag
——–
This critique, while totally valid, would perhaps be more apropos were the Bleethy Hotts submitted along with it not entirely made up of Crisco and Man Tan (with the exception of the quality hottitude chew bobble in pic #3).
I proverbially drop the mic to your dropped mic, and head to the kitchen to microwave a burrito.
