I may have two dyn-o-mite babes hangin' on my arms, but in my mind? I'M LISTENING TO DOKKEN!!!
 

"This guy makes me want to punch a poodle in the nads."

I think someone beat you to it - scrotelick here is named "Poodle." Small world.
 

I'm pissy today. I just got an email from a hott friend of mine (former coworker), and she's getting married in a few weeks.

Fuck.
 

with his eyes closed & gently swirling to the pulsating beat of da club, Chip fantasizes of sucking Archimedes asshole
 

His eyes are closed because he is imagining what his butthole looks like in a funhouse mirror.
 

By the hammer of Thor, that douche is douchey. I see an unmistakable blowout above his downward fake-eyes-closed gaze on the Tiffany Amber-Thiesen looking girls boobie squeezies
 

lmao - I love DB1's commentary
 

For the love of Christ will someone please punch that guy in the dick? Please???
 

Our DB1, Who art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy Name;
From the depths of my poor heart’s rot,
I thank You for this week’s parade of hotts –
Be they blonde or brunette,
The boobies were always succulent
This brunette here gives reason for our loins to ache
Though the douche causes bowels to quake
May this parade of hott be endless in number
Like the bottom of my Whisky tumbler.

Amen.
 

poodles make me want to punch poodles in the nads. this guy makes me want to punch Plinky's mom. in tha butt.
 

amen.
 

@The Bag Queen, 12:42 p.m. -

Yeah, I think the "Skull and Douchebones" post was particularly outstanding!

And then there are times where I think the funniest expression in the world is "Look closely. Can you find him?"



@Condouchous Slay, 12:36 p.m. -

I think seeing Mjolnir upside the choad's head is a pretty good call.

(Wheezer is a geek - yes, I said it.)
 

@wheezer12:33...does your hott friend know you love her?
 

And my weekend begins in 3… 2… 1…

*POP*

clink, clink…

glub, glug glub glub

Schlurrrp.

Ahhhhhh…









Now!!

You all have a great weekend. I’m gonna go light some shit on fiiiyaaah!
 

I think he's dead. Died on the dance floor from an overdose of drugs or ego. The chicks propped him up just for fun. Tough broads.
 

@Crucial Head...that sounded like Maker's Mark on the rocks yo.
 

@Wheezer,

If you need any tips about using ether, renting a windowless van, tying things up in a basement, and tickle torture...










... just ask DarkSock.
 

Yo yo yo, Pfah!
 

@pfah, 12:55 p.m. -

It's hard to say. My affinities are usually fairly obvious even when I try to play it cool.

Oh wait - I'm not talking to you after peeking at your bcs-like "Statue of Liberty" link. Bastard.

Heh heh.....and to think he had a semi-mullet, too! That was the kicker.....
 

.....jots down "Talk to DarkSock".....got it!
 

@wheezer...hey, you clicked on it dude. i just put it out there. heheh. anyway, have a great holiday weekend man. and don't blow any of your fingers off.
 

I call nottadouche.

Exhibit A: The hazy sulferous air surrounding this dude.

Exhibit B: The faraway look of extreme concentration across his brow that can only come from farting a hectare of methane while trying not to toss a hot log down your pants leg.

Arrest this man....for being AWESOME!
 

This guy is clearly disinterested in these kindly hotts. His head tilted back in deep thoughts of pleasure and gratification tells me he can only be thinking of one thing: Axe Shower Gel.
 

Peggy Fleming Bleeth on the right makes me want to axel lift her with my tongue then salchow my blade into her spread eagle until I blow a lutz all over her layout.
 

jimmy "the track suit" here tells everyone he is affiliated, but really his dad owns property bequeathed him when his dad met a lonely elderly man playing bocci, and being nothing like his son, was kind to the old man who had no one else. jimmy moved to a town across the state after college"two and a half years" wondering why they call it science when there is so much math in it. so now he takes his checks from home, and pretends to be people who know people out east, but is frugally marking time til he can "retire"
can't you see how little the chicks buy his story? but he does spring for an occasional 8 ball and if you can get out of there before he gets too paranoid, its better than actually buying it yourself.
 

This guy is dead. Sudden brain aneurysm caused by overuse of hair gel. They've been walking around on either side of him all night long, like in Weekend At Bernie's.
 

@Vin Douchal1:49...that was, dare i say, beautiful. nice work brother.
 

Ever since Terri and Kelly were roommates at the sorority, they've contemplated their forbidden love. Until now, they've only shared fleeting moments--an "innocent" stroke of the other's hair, a "welcome back!" hug during which hands strayed ever so slightly toward more sensitive places...

Now, in their early 20s, the Sapphic sexual tension is almost too much to bear. A few whiskey sours (or Mr. White's special brew), and everything seems so...possible.

And yet, they'd feel more comfortable with a guy in the mix. It takes the edge off, allows them to believe that it's all a lark, that they can still meet Mr. Investment Banker and have 2.7 kids in the suburbs, because that "lesbian thing," well, it was just youthful indiscretion, right? And really, it wasn't gay at all because they were in effect both having sex with him, not each other.

I volunteer to be that guy.
 

@Wheezer
Don't fret about the wedding; if you must fret, think about the thousands of times mullet-head has already railed her every orifice by now.

Give the douche credit though he didn't get caught peaking to see if the picture had already been taken.
 

@Mr. White 2:12pm

We are pleased to present you with our very prestigious award, for your outstanding contribution to Literature...

...nay, Humanity.



May Lamp have mercy on your profound soul.
 

I don't think he's dead or disinterested. The choadery on this one is so profound that it has permeated his subconscious and stimulated him into a state of somnambulism. In other words, he's sleepclubbing.

You must be careful when rousing a sleepclubber lest their disorientation prove dangerous. Most researchers into similar sleep disorders recommend the three fingered taint punch.
 

@ Vin 1:49

You can't see it, but I am holding up a card that reads "9.5". You would have gotten a 10 but you didn't work "camel spin" into that. Ah, the possibilities...
 

Mr. White:

That gave me wood.







Are we gay now?
 

Jenny and Gina both know that the sleeping gargoyles at Jo-dee's parties are realistic, but when it comes to 4th of July party-time, red white and a black-job don't quite cut it.
 

Maybe the girls are the ones farting, and he has a methane fetish.
 

@Wheezer 12:51: yes i know what you mean - when i hear that line in my head, it's in a low hushed tone. Like someone doing commentary for children's wildlife show.
 

He's demonstrating, with his big head, what his dick looks like when fully erect. Thanks dude. Now I can stop wondering.
 

@darksock

I gave myself a halfsie just writing it, so....

....yeah, gay. But of all the regs, if I had to pick one to gay go for, it would be you. Or pfah. Well, boatbutter would be first choice. And that Lindsay Lohan-stalkin' fellow wasn't a regular, per se, but he seemed nice...

Never mind.
 

The Exquisite Corpse

via Mr White:
Ever since Terri and Kelly were roommates at the sorority, they've contemplated their forbidden love. Until now, they've only shared fleeting moments--an "innocent" stroke of the other's hair, a "welcome back!" hug during which hands strayed ever so slightly toward more sensitive places...

Now, in their early 20s, the Sapphic sexual tension is almost too much to bear. A few whiskey sours (or Mr. White's special brew), and everything seems so...possible.

And yet, they'd feel more comfortable with a guy in the mix. It takes the edge off, allows them to believe that it's all a lark, that they can still meet Mr. Investment Banker and have 2.7 kids in the suburbs, because that "lesbian thing," well, it was just youthful indiscretion, right? And really, it wasn't gay at all because they were in effect both having sex with him, not each other.

So they had to find THAT guy. So, they went on a drinking binge, hitting every bar in Tampa and ending up at some crappy disco in Seminole. The men were on them like flies on poo, but they were all so douchie and full of themselves they refused them all.

"So, YO baby, like if you knew what I did for a livin' you wouldn't be such a fuckin' BITCH!"

Terry glared at him and said, "OK cowboy - so what do you do for a living?"

And he replied "I'm a fuckin' CRIMINAL lawyer!"

Kelly pounced, "Gee, that's not TOO redundant..."

At that the cowboy spun on his drunken heel and yelled "You fuckin bitches are too fucked up."

Terry and Kelly decided they were never going to find the douche they needed to humiliate. These two bit lawyers and real estate losers were just awful. so they went for a walk. Along the way they pulled out a baggie of crank and a bottle of Jack Daniels and a couple of doobies. They smoked the doobies up and cracked open the Jack Daniels. They walked passed the hospital when an ambulance came in. The squad was calm - one said to the triage nurse at the door "Hi Cassie - No Rush - this one's dead as a doornail. Is the coffee fresh?"
Cassie said, "You bet - just put it on 10 minutes ago. You know where to find it, fellas..."

Kelly and Terry couldn't resist... With a few small snorts of crank they hopped into the Ambulance, and there he was...

His name was Jason. He had gone to Seminole high school with Kelly and Terry, and was the biggest douche in the world. And there he was - dead as a herring with a massive boner. And even though he was a well known douchebag, all the girls wanted to fuck him just because he was the biggest douchebag in Pinellas county. So, Kelly dropped her panties and lifted her red dress and plopped her pussy on Jason's dead face. And rubbed it and rubbed it and rubbed. Terry dropped her panties and began fucking his dead stiff cock. The circumstances were so weird, so kinky that they both came in moments.

Pulling up their panties they drank some more Jack and their eyes fell on a hand truck...

They opened up one of the drawers and grabbed the medical tape and taped jason to the cart and wheeled him back to the disco.

The criminal lawyer said "Hey babeee wutcha got there?" And Kelly said "a dead body that I fuck when I want to." He backed away muttering - "yeah, well your boyfriend's gonna be pissed when he wakes up, ya dumb bitch."

Terry said "Hey criminal douchebag - do us a favour - snap a picture of us. I'll give you a little kiss..."

He advanced back, took the camera and said "say CHEEEEEEZE!!!!"
 

a few millennia after the ancient Greeks, there emerged the RE-humanists, whose sole mission in life is to call a spade a spade.

when they see douchebags, they mock mercilessly.

when they see hotts, they fap furiously.

when they see bleeths - wellllllllll that's bit more complicated. it depends on how hot the bleeth is.

and, of course, when they see a poodle, they punch it in the nads.

they are not just RE-huamnist philosophers on a quest to rediscover humanity. they are BAGHUNTERS.

amen.
 

For Fuck's Sake, Troy.

It's bad enough me and White done went and made each other gay but now you done went and made the Baron gay too...
 

Troy definitely made the Baron something. Though I was thinking 'throw up in his mouth a little.'
 

Though that would be a hell of a premise for a direct-to-DVD (in the Ukraine) horror movie. Two drunk girls go nuts on a corpse and get Crabs of The Living Dead or ZombAIDs or something. We'll call it "The Clamwich Project." This might have legs.
 

Remus Jones was often observed in the throes of

a) boredom.

b) narcolepsy.

c) sleeping like a horse.

d) patting down ass pair at parties while passed out from his own poo.
 

Whenever Remus Jones farted at a party, his head collapsed on his neck in a fit of torticollis.
 

Interns Kelli and Gina enjoyed the Washington DC nightlife the most whenever Remus Jones mimed like Statuary Hall and gave them the "Indiana limestone and Georgia marbles" treatment.
 

@bvg


better hurry getting your concept into the marketplace, once lindsay lohan gets her own reality show, all bets are off from an intellectual property perspective. she might cover that plot between the second and third commercial.
 

I was thinking more of the movie "Love Is a Dog From Hell" directed by Dominique Deruddere, where these two drunk idiots come across the dead body of a prom queen in an ambulance... It was written by Charles Bukowski. I think it was re-released as "Crazy Love". It's a really fucked up movie. I recommend it - two stiff wooden thumbs up from Tory Tempest.

BVG - I like the idea of the narcoleptic zombie film. I don't think that's been done. Yet.
 

Sorry - no coffee... I didn't mean narcoleptic, but necrophilic. Argh. Must. Get. Coffee...

(although, that is a weird angle, too... It's a zombie! It's trying to eat me!!! I feel so sleepy! EEeeeEEAaaaUgzZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....snorrrrr....)
 

Weekend at Douchebag's.

I know, it has been done, but it merited repeat.