“H-h-honeyyy? Are…are you ok?”
“I’m just fine, Bill! I’m used to finding another woman’s panties under the car seat. Why don’t you just go and take a nap.”
What do I think of the new campaign? Are you kidding me? Oh my god! You dumped a vat of acid on that baby! I mean, look at that! He’s melting! I can’t believe you would even….wait, that does kinda makes me want to buy some soap. Good job!
“….he’ll know you’ll have more time for role playing and spanking his hot wife later on!” This is the only couple in the world who uses “store testing” as their safe word.
A noncommittal response to a question never asked.
“Sure, I guess you’re right in liking meat. Now can you please put that steak away and get back to work, weirdo?”
Meat Bologna is round, ready and right. Other types of bologna apparently aren’t. Let this be a lesson to you. If you make bologna out of anything besides meat, don’t expect it to be described like a male porn star!
I’m sorry. I just saw the words “Home”, “Front”, and “Yard”, then looked at the “meat”, and thought this was an ad for canned dog crap.
When he’s not being titillated by wieners, he’s throwin’ back an ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon. William Bendix: The Original Corporate Whore!
Helen was conflicted. This would seem like an innocent attempt by Billy to keep his snowman intact had he not been scribbling Satanic pictures on the garage walls. Now it took on the air of “practice”.
In Twin Pines, even the milkmen are stone cold PIMPS. As long as this dude keeps his cool, so does all that milk in his Pimpwagon.
“Say, Phil. Is that creepy new foreman that’s dressed like a cowboy still watching us? He is? Aw Jeez….how long am I gonna have to dump imaginary dirt on that guy behind you?”
With all the lascivious looks and sexual tension going on in this office, you know there’s gonna be lots of sucking and fucking at this company Christmas party! Well, except the lady in the back. She’ll have taken her own life by Thanksgiving.
The Halversons weren’t gonna let a winter tornado ruin THEIR holiday party. They said “Fuck it! We’re doing this, walls or no walls!”
Awesome. My '86 high school photo made the "Sexy People" blog. (Link)
This was just one of my looks, and not even my favorite one. I just decided to make it tall that day when pictures were being taken. When people see this pic, they say “Why would you wanna look like Vanilla Ice?” No, he saw me at a party and bit MY look. Rob Van Winkle (Vanilla Ice) went to my rival high school RL Turner and he stole my look FOUR YEARS AFTER THIS PICTURE WAS TAKEN. I was a “new waver”. He was a preppy douchebag. I sure as hell didn’t go back in time and bring his bunk shit to the people.
When I was busy blowdrying or teasing my hair straight up, wearing thrift store clothes, and soaking up all the great music, he was busy shopping for Generra sweatshirts, Cavaricci jeans, Zodiac shoes, and reciting “Paul revere” ad nauseum. By the time that cockbag hit the big time, I was already WAY past the goofy hair stage and into being an acid casualty with no discernible hairstyle.
I said it in 1986, in 1990 when he exploded, and I’ll say it now. That guy was KING DOUCHEWAFFLE. I was just someone trying to do something completely different than people like him and his ilk.
At least I never sported his uber-homo ceasar cut. 
Douchewaffle
Guido, The Killer Lesbian (Link)
I’m trying to be a more compassionate, nonjudgmental, and enlightened being. In the last 6 months, I’ve found it’s been getting easier and easier to follow the Buddhist philosophies I’ve been studying, letting go of ego, and just letting things be what they are without it ever getting to me or riling me up like in the past. Then I find shit like this, and throw it all out the window and let my inner cynic come out to play. I stumbled on this profile after a hazily remembered ancillary character from my teenage story found me and tried to add me on Facebook. Naturally I looked through her profile for clues as to who she was, because she looked haggard as hell and I had no idea how I knew her. I still don’t, even though she apparently knows all about me (which everyone did in god-forsaken Carrollton). Anyway, after realizing I didn’t know this person well enough to add, and seeing that she spends all of her FB time throwing beavers at her friends and buying them virtual shots (inbetween posting bible scriptures), I decided to look through her friend list to see if she knew anyone I might recognize. I didn’t find any familiar names, but I did find this: 
Dolla Bills, y’all! What What?
“Damn, son! Dem lemons is sizzour up in hurr! Holla!”
Yep, it’s the wily “Guido Douchebag” in it’s natural habitat: a social networking site. Lame sunglasses? Check. The requisite “Guido Trout-Pout”? Check. Lame-ass baseball cap ever-so-carefully askew on what you know is uber-gelled hair underneath? Check. Why any dude would want to become one of these cliched dorks is beyond me. Maybe they’re full of testosterone, and feel the need to show their douchey plumage to the female equivalent of low-hanging fruit in order to score. I dunno. But what’s the excuse for the Guido who has no testosterone or seed to spread? What’s their excuse? More accurately, what’s her excuse? 
My pretend cock be so large, I be makin’ da urinal all scurred, son! Kno’wha’m’sayin?”
Yep, this is CHICK. Let me say first off that I have no problem with Gays and Lesbians. I don’t have to (and won’t) defend myself on that issue, so don’t even start with that nonsense. Be what you are, be happy, and live your life the way you are hard-wired to do naturally. I dig that, and more pwer to ya. What I do have a problem with is stupid shit. Posing as a lily-white honky Guido is pretty damn stupid, particularly when you’re sporting the ubiquitous exaggerated pout in every photo. But being a woman emulating a type of lame guy that’s emulating another lame type of guy is really stupid. The urinal photo? Oh, that’s embarrassingly stupid shit. I have numerous gay friends that would take umbrage at their associates going to such lengths to be a stereotype. Go ahead and live your life as a man if that’s how you feel, because that’s cool. But c’mon, not as a bad stereotype!
However, I do have to give her props on the fake facial hair, even though it doesn’t always work in color photographs.
I must admit it’s an interesting social experiment. Does she try to pass for a guy in public, or is she an unabashed lesbian who just “don’t give a fuuuck”? Is she frontin’ and just emulating what she perceives as machismo? After all, she’s young. By using a syllogistic way of thinking, if she’s young, she’s inexperienced, and therefore doesn’t know any better. But what’s a more interesting theory is what if she’s really a douchebag who just happens to have a vagina? After all, this broad plays rugby…she might be all that.
On a related note, I just offended someone. I know I have because I offend people even when I’m being nice. My advice to anyone that doesn’t see what’s funny about this is this: There’s a cure for “Silica Vaginosis” aka sand in your panties. It’s called a sense of humor. Look into one. I hear they’re free.
Meat: Perfect for the hairless manchild who prefers “swinging the hoe” instead of slapping them like the other guys do.
![[lookatthisfuckinghipster]](http://22.media.tumblr.com/avatar_969fc4506243_30.png "Look at this fucking hipster (lookatthisfuckinghipster)"){kind=avatar}
