Yep, that’s exactly how many fucks I give about airlift today. Every C-5 I’m supposed to be controlling is broke somewhere in the world. Speaking of the C-5 (also known as the Aluminum Overcast), here’s a picture of A BOAT ON MY MOTHERFUCKIN’ PLANE.
Going to be a long shift. May have to self-medicate before lunch. If the quality and coherence of my posts start to improve around noon you will know that I am into the rum.
I may have mentioned that my arsenal of cool stuff has improved dramatically over the last few months. That reminded me to post a pic so you can revel in my awesome. Read More…
Good day, hose fornicators. Today’s BBF is of the traditional variety that you’ve cum to know and love. No, I’m not talking about dick swinging trannies, or farm animals in provocative poses. I’m talking ’bout all natural, the size as airships, round as Charlie Brown’s head, big fat titties!!!!!!!!
I wrote this song for Rush back in the ’70s. Geddy Lee and I were hanging out playing Dungeons and Dragons when he put down his bottle of 7UP and said, “MJ, how can I possibly portray myself as a bigger dork? I already wear women’s kimonos on stage, I look like your mom on crack, and given the chance to change my name to Count von Hugecock I decided to stay with Geddy?” I told me to write a song about a 19th century American novel. Fin.
Today’s model is an import from a North African country called the Ukraine. She graduated with a marketing degree from BigTit U, with a 44-24-36. Past that, I don’t give a shit. Fuck you, I have big tits!!!111!!!! Please welcome a newbie….Sha Rizel.
Good morning, and welcome to another edition of Hunky Hump Day. Let’s get started.
I like this one because he reminds me of this song.
1. These greens are so fast I have to hold my putter over the ball and hit it with the shadow.
~ Sam Snead
Before you ask: yes, that’s a word. I just made it up. It’s an adverb, obviously, meaning “to do so in a muscularing fashion”. Also before you ask: no, that’s not a word, it’s just English-sounding gibberish.
It’s Monday again, and time for a fresh start to life. Time to be your best self and set the right tone for the week. Life’s gonna try to whoop your ass twelve ways to Sunday by, well, next Sunday. Don’t let it. Beat life like a red-headed, rented stepmule.
Now, indulge me while I look at some pretty things.
I like her expression: “Leon, spot me while I do this ridiculous exercise”. You got it, babe.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers, grandmothers, mothers-in-law, stepmothers, wannabe mothers, and those that have mothers out there.
Something to stick on the fridge with a magnet (literally).
Good day, lovelies. Today we will explore the concept of ‘less is moar.’ Rather than big ugly whales with ud-hers the size of Rosetta’s head, we’ll be taking a look at just the eyes, which somehow become hotter when they are obscured. I dunno how this works, but it works. Submit to my Friday post, bitches. It’s science!
And now some music! I wrote song for you in the early 90s. It’s a love song, filled with revenge, violence, and what I can only guess is a deeply held white hot rage to kill you. It was Car in’s wedding song.
* Tool–Crawl Away
* Also, dat gap and belly button.