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Tag Archives: whore
… To Get To The Nail Salon
Shove it in your facehole like it was a wealthy black man’s cock in an adult book store in Cleveland, you faggot! Stop thinking about it ending up on your hips, your skirt will still fit. There’s goddamned rabbit food all over it. Stop thinking at all, and eat it like it’s Strawberry Shortcake’s pussy a la mode. Or if that doesn’t do it for you, you mincing little coward, think of it as Mayor McCheese’s quarter-pounder on a bun. I’ll bet you break down in sobs at the sight of a spicy nugget. You nauseating, douche-nozzle sucking lady boy. It’s your goddamned lunch! It’s yours, and I saw that chubby little whore at the other register eyeballing it. You gonna let that chubby little whore eat the lunch that, by all rights, belongs to you? I remember a time when a real man would swallow a live chicken whole. Now you mother-bred sissies, in your pink Lacoste shirts and your cruelty free face creams, can’t even swallow a pattied-out piece of synthetic fowl with a generous slathering of mayo lube and your boyfriends to chew it up for you. When your wife finds out you’re too craven to consume an animal that’s been killed, phosphorylated, and breaded for you, she’s going to leave you for the paunchy asthmatic model train enthusiast that lives next door…
Gah! Put It Away (Part 2)
Part one is making its meager existence here. Soundtrack today. Thanks to Bonetti over at Unemployed Geniuses. Celebrity sex tapes can be a great time, especially when they are leaked, and the subjects don’t see it coming. We’re entertained for different reasons. We were so stoked to know that Paris Hilton was as shitty a lay as we knew in our hearts she would be. We tittered sympathetically at Tommy Lee’s massive belly rope and how it fit in the vagina we’d wanted to see for some time. We gasped in mock puritan disgust at what Martin Lawrence did to that tranny hooker – – what? You don’t have that one? Oh, snap, come over tomorrow night. We’ll have Cold Duck and pizza bagels. Ok, now I want you to mentally picture the celebrities you would not want to see in a leaked sex tape. The list is shorter than you think, once you put your mind to the task. Celebrity does strange things to tolerance levels, and morbid curiosity covers everybody else from Tori Spelling up to, say, Jon Lovitz. Now I want you to bump that list down by one. That’s right, Precious just made your maybe list, because life just hacked up what you didn’t want to know was your actual #1. A [recently filmed] sex tape featuring former professional wrestler Hulk Hogan has surfaced, according to TMZ. [Huffpost] Now you can’t stop thinking about it either. Share in my pain! I have never heard of anything more unnecessary in my entire life. The homoerotic spectacle of 1990s WWF footage has been more than plenty for anyone who found him attractive when he wasn’t ninety years old. Any chick who was in her early twenties at the time had a 70% chance of firsthand knowledge, if they … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Victoria´s Victim
Zombie Jesus has claimed another soul, and never is it so hard as when that soul belongs to a young, blond, white woman from America. Kylie Bisutti (pictured, duh) was doing some wonderful missionary work for Victoria’s Secret in malls and catalogues around the world when the worst happened. She found religion. She had always had religion, but it had apparently been lost in the couch cushions for some time. It was like when a cheerleader loses her car keys. She’ll spend a month looking for them, but don’t be fooled by the act: most of the time she can’t remember what it was she was looking for. It was only more than eight years into being super hot for money that Kylie noticed some of her work didn’t square with what the curmudgeonly old impotents that run her specific brand of Christianity told her Jesus wants. So she had to make a choice between religion and happiness. As is so often the case, the tragic choice was made. Bisutti, who began her modeling career at age 14, said she isn’t giving up modeling. She said she is just being more careful about what kinds of jobs she takes. (ABC) Careful? That’s the terminology we’re going with? So, up until this point you’ve just been stumbling into jobs and out of clothes like a drunken, be-helmeted retard? “Oops, I wandered onto the catwalk of a multi-million dollar international fashion show in my underwear and high heels again.” She just has to be less clumsy, is all. Her life since she was 14 has been one long dream-I-just-had, only she was paid rather handsomely. Show a little more vigilance, and you can entirely avoid falling into corsets, getting your makeup done, and posing for photo shoots. Kylie Bisutti got her shot … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Feminism Devolved
Huffington Post’s Comedy Page editor Carol Hartsell did the predictable thing and managed to turn a page normally devoted to funny things into a sopping vagina fest from the 1980s. Seriously, listen to this backwards, old school feminist crap: We have to admit, as fans of comedy and women in comedy especially, my fellow editors and I die a little bit every time [a female comedian gets naked for a men´s magazine]. [Huffington Post] Uh, while you’re thinking about that, who’s thinking about dinner? Aside from my stomach. And my whuppin’ arm. Go ahead and read the pre-op-ed. Generously, Carol makes the sympathetic concession that sometimes women have no choice. Men are stupid, so to keep their attention, show your boobies while you tell your joke. Otherwise you may never have a career. Men will laugh at your joke if you get sexy for them, even if they don´t understand why, like a dog will salivate when you condition him to like peanut butter and nutsack. She continues by pretending there´s a normal way to think, which gives me so much faith in her hilarity: Conventional wisdom says that funny women are intimidating, so why not take yourself down a peg — or article of clothing — or two to make yourself a little more approachable? Well, I, for one, am insulted. “Lowering” themselves? I’d hate to think that every woman who took off her clothes for my entertainment was “lowering herself.” Are my sexual fantasies not a classy enough joint to strip down to your lacies in? Conventional wisdom says you just hurt my feelings. At a time when so many men feel comfortable saying, “I don’t find women funny,” it doesn’t sit well with us to see many of those same men rewarded with getting to see actual … Finish reading this sumbitch!
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!