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Tag Archives: vagina
Afternoon Quickies: Oh, STFU! Edition, 4 Realz
These last couple of weeks I learned that one cannot live exclusively on the internet, that one must interact with human beings, maintain something resembling employment, and take legally mandatory vacations in Nicaragua. I shit you not. But it turns out that doesn’t really matter, because while I was gone, none of you motherfuckers did anything of any importance anyway. GOP Primaries, CISPA, John Edwards, Lindsay Lohan playing Liz Taylor (just because they both had addiction problems doesn’t mean a non-actress can play a great one) – – it’s all just one big holding pattern because for the last two weeks the world has been utterly uninteresting. How do I know? Because instead of going out and tossing the pigskin around, you were all bitching about things nobody would ever care about otherwise: No Tards On Facebook Didn’t think mental retardation was genetic? Check out this poor kid’s mom. Brought to my attention by my buddy Cait, there’s an actually retarded petition going around, which has already gotten more than its requisite signatures, demanding Facebook not censor pictures of children with disabilities. Seems some woman posted pictures of her 7 year old son, who has Down Syndrome and is participating in his first Special Olympics, and the pics got flagged and removed. Because ignorance of how the world works never seems to stop people from throwing drooling mongo-fits. This woman must envision some poor bastard sitting behind a FB super-computer, individually investigating each of the millions of flags received every week, and making moral judgment calls on behalf of the entire corporation. And not, you know, an algorithm built into the servers that, so as to not have yeasty twats all over Facebook, just aces most of the items flagged as offensive to be on the safe side. I’m sorry, … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Gah! Put It Away! (Part One)
Here’s today’s soundtrack. Old school blues, y’all. Open in a new tab and listen while you read! To reiterate the mission statement of Scumbag Style penned some two and a half years ago: “Scumbag Style seeks to permanently eliminate the language of the sex scandal, whether a media personality has an affair, lets some grainy cell phone mirror pics for her boyfriend slip, or a sex tape is released. Nay, these are not scandals, but fodder for general happiness. Call them ‘sexyrific’ or ‘nakedpicture-bations,’ but never an outrage.” Scandal is usually too negative a word for these blessed events, and it insinuates that, while we’ll be happy to capitalize on them, we normies are above such things. As if anyone wanted to spread naked pictures of you on the internet. Remember when Vaneesa Hudgens sent Zach Effron those nudey pics (some of them have disappeared), and ‘somehow’ they ended up on all our desktops? Was anybody scandalized? Or did we all silently thank whoever was treacherous enough to betray the trust of two Disney stars, and save them for viewing later where our wives couldn’t find them? Well, we at SBS will be the first to admit that every philosophy has its downside. For instance, just recently, a pregnant Jessica Simpson did what weird people call a tasteful nudey cover for Elle. Shortly thereafter, Atlantic Wire’s Jen Doll did the unthinkable by criticizing the decision. “What?” your liberal media brainwashed brain might say. “But she’s pregnant. She’s beautiful! DON’T YOU THINK SHE’S BEAUTIFUL? What kind of monster would not want to look at her totally nude?” Really, all Ms Doll wanted to know was if anyone else thought this shit was getting old. As a woman, it has to burn when you pose nude in the same fashion as hundreds … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Sexy Ed
By Ms Lori Hey there. My name is Lori, and I am here to take you to school. Yes, darling, I know you don’t want to go to school. There is just such a glut of elitist intellectual smarty-pants propaganda floating around this country, that we could all use a little less school and a little more common Bible sense. And not only that, book-learnin’ is so hard. So I thought that, as your teacher, maybe I could pop a few blouse buttons, put my finger in my mouth, and make you hard for education. Recent History 101 (If you know the story, you may skip this section, but I will be talking about my vagina, and it will be on the test. My vag, I mean. I dip it in red ink and leave a nice little lip hug for all my A students.)* I’d like to introduce you to Jessica Ahlquist. A lot of you may know her from the death threats you sent her and her family. Some of you may even remember promising to rape her, mostly from the safe, cowardly anonymity of the internet. Some of you have done it in person, in public, and for that I applaud you. For those of you who don’t know Jessica, she is female, like I totally am, and she is a sixteen year old high school student from Rhode Island. And she is an atheist, so her opinion doesn’t count. Still, Jessica is the newest champion of constitutional civil rights in the US, and many regard her as a hero. Just the excitement of her young age and her superior reasoning skills make my nips all hard. Go ahead, feel your screen. Can you feel that? I’m working on two semi-symmetrical avocado pits here. Nine months ago: … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Go To Towns: Indiana Edition
(If one can “Go to town” when doing something with gusto, should not the superlative increase be “going to towns”? These are articles about some of those people who merely went to town in their ridiculousness, but did not fully commit by going to towns.) “For the first time in years I felt sexually alive.” The headline reads: Indiana Grandmother Is Having A New Baby. With Her Grandson. It´s from yet another retarded “mom blog.” She is 72, he is 26. They didn´t know each other for most of his life (there was some kind of adoption scenario, who cares?), but when they met, it wasn´t even a matter of time before they were slapping pink wrinkly against gray wrinkly in the game of horizontal shuffleboard. “I called Phil into my bedroom, sat him on the bed, and then I leant over and kissed him.” They are in love, they make fulfilling, passionate, incredibly careful whoop, and they are going to be parents. “I never in a million years thought at 72 I’d be ‘pregnant’ and in love with my grandson.” The entire scenario is so deliciously groady, so horrifically and philosophically rank that it rolls around the mouth like well aged santorum (c´mon, catch up). In case we weren´t clear, Scumbag Style completely endorses this – – wait what? The pair paid $54,000 (£35,000) to find a surrogate mother and buy a donor egg to inseminate with Phil’s sperm. Let us get this straight, Phil. You went far enough to engage in a multi-generational incestuous…. nyehhh carnal relationship with your grandmother. You decided, against the very dictates of nature, to make a frigging baby with this woman who may not live to see the birth, let alone Junior Prom. You are able to describe, in graphic, hilariously nauseating detail, your … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Foreplay Involves Food In the Marsden Household
Put your glasses back on before you kill us all, Cyclops! Oh, wait, he’s done other things? James Marsden likes his girls to have their cake, and eat them too. *RIMSHOT* Another article from Contactmusic.com teaches us the meaning of TMI when it reveals, “James Marsden thinks curvy [and sweaty] girls are sexy and loves seeing women who have just left the gym because it reminds him of sex.” You can’t have it both ways, Marsden! They may be chunky now, but your gym fetish is just going to make them hot. He then goes on to give marriage advice, which is always reliable from a hunky celebrity who has to cut his way through vagina with a machete wherever he goes.
Nuggets For Sluts Outreach Initiative
New Feature: A soundtrack to enhance your reading experience. Just open the link in another tab on your browser and enjoy the totally relevant song whilst enjoying the article. Today’s soudtrack. For the sake of our nation’s unplanted waves of fertile uteri, responsible, concerned, white, male Congressmen decided last week to selflessly put aside the debt and unemployment issues they really wanted to be talking about, and focus on what really matters: baby makin’. The problem? We are not doing enough of it, and all these rubber gadgets and magic pills are not helping. Did you know condoms are sometimes made out of the skin of sheep? What’s next? Kitten intestine lampshades? I smell an unmissable opportunity for a Hitler comparison. Let’s watch: Sandra Fluke, a student at Georgetown Law School, was supposed to be the Democratic witness at a Congressional hearing about the Obama administration’s contraception policy. However, Darrell “Sweet Mel” Issa, the committee chair at the hearing, prevented her from speaking, while only allowing a series of men to testify about the policy. (Huffpost, more or less) Hunny, the men are talking. Steak and BJ Day (ladies) is right around the corner. Maybe you should be loosening your jaw, or practicing char vs. warm pinkness ratio (sweet, that actually works both ways). You can throw the practice steaks to homeless people if you want, hippie. We got you that nice sheer dressing gown for V-day. You liked that right? What the hell do women of child-bearing age even know about contraception anyway? God gave us male politicians so you don’t have to hurt yourself with thinking. Your turn, Rushizzle. Tell the bitch. “What does it say about the college co-ed Susan Fluke [sic] who goes before a congressional committee and essentially says that she must be paid to … Finish reading this sumbitch!