The Post From Ipanema

The first time I ever heard the song “The Girl From Ipanema” was on an album by a 90’s band but I forget the name at this point It’s been covered countless times so it’s anyone’s guess who it was. I thought it was a Yo La Tengo album called Fakebook. It’s an album of cover songs! When I went to find the song I discovered it was not that one. Still a great album worth a listen.

Let’s try this one from the lovely and talented Elise Trouw

You Are An Asshole

Do me a favor, would you? Go into the bathroom or your bedroom or look down at your shoe and give yourself a long look in the mirror. Try to look a little disappointed, and say this out loud, ‘I will never be a as good of a person as Lauraw. Not if I invented a time machine and prevented Barak Hussein Obama from becoming president. Not if I found and convinced Mila Kunis to spend an evening with MJ. Not if I opened a weed farm and put MJ in charge of quality control. There is nothing I can do to be funnier or more thoughtful that Lauraw.

Then punch yourself in the balls/vag.

Behold, the Deadmaublanket5.

David Brooks is the Sandwich Artist of Virtue Signaling

From the NYTimes, so don’t click.

Recently I took a friend with only a high school degree to lunch. Insensitively, I led her into a gourmet sandwich shop. Suddenly I saw her face freeze up as she was confronted with sandwiches named “Padrino” and “Pomodoro” and ingredients like soppressata, capicollo and a striata baguette. I quickly asked her if she wanted to go somewhere else and she anxiously nodded yes and we ate Mexican.

American upper-middle-class culture (where the opportunities are) is now laced with cultural signifiers that are completely illegible unless you happen to have grown up in this class. They play on the normal human fear of humiliation and exclusion. Their chief message is, “You are not welcome here.”

–David Brooks

Big Boob Friday

Herro! Welcome to big boob Friday. It’s full of Friday and boobs so it must be WIN!!!!

I have no idea what I’m saying, really. Please disregard any comments that might pertain the shape and size of Hotspur’s asshole. It’s called phrenology people. Try to keep up.

So here we are; another end of the week, or beginning to some of us. For most of us, it’s just another day on the endless treadmill of winning that is the glorious reign of God Emperor Donald Trump II, long may he, er, reign.  As you may know, I’ve written quite a few songs for your enjoymentness over the years, most of which you rightly decided were utter crap. This song is no different because it’s about you.

This week’s model is of the Asian persuasion…which is a total shocker. In between eating sushi and playing checkers with marbles, she likes to giggle quietly behind her hand and fantasize about large reptile like creatures fighting large moth like creatures. Please put down your bucket of chardonnay and welcome Vicki Li!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

19th Annual Great Pumpkin Festival

 

Dear fuquar’s de hose,

It’s that time of year again…Halloween(er)!!!!!!

As you know, we’ve spent the past 18 years showing each other our pumpkins, and this year is not the time to quit. We are simply 2 legitimate to do so. 2 legit to quit.

This Saturday, at 12pm EST I will begin a thread so scary, so frightening, so goddamn shart inducing that you’ll, er, shart.

Side note: I would like a thesaurus for Christmas. Just sayin’.

See you this Saturday,

MJ

 

 

 

HHD

Good morning, and welcome to another edition of Hunky Hump Day.
I thought about putting in the clip from “Major League”, but the one I found has an f-bomb in the middle of it.

Beisbol been berry, berry good to me.

Big Boob Friday

Welcum to another edition of BBF, hosted by me. Extremely tall and pleasantly well mannered. Let’s start with a joke:

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I wrote this song for Sean because he’ll probably enjoy it while the rest of you people will most likely call me a flamer for *gasp* posting these hipster douchebags. Sean will note the feedback that begins in the second verse, the kick ass guitar solo, and the reference to other folk musicians in the lyrics. The rest of you people will flick boogers and send me hate mail. The vapors!

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This week’s model is Joey Fisher. My guess is that she’s make an appearance in this hallowed post once or twice. But YOBBFO. You only big boob Friday once. Or twice. Whatever. Look, she’s got a bangin’ body and a really sexy look in her eyes that tells me she probably likes vanilla yogurt. A recent resume listed her measurements as TItty-Fuck, Waist-Grab, Shake-That-Ass. You know, I think I even used the first picture as…the first picture. Like I said, whatev.

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Car Review Tuesday

I admit I have been a slacker and have not posted in 45 years or so. I also admit no one comes to the hostages looking for car reviews. It is something that interested me, and I thought I would give my opinion. Carry on with all the usual silliness in the comments, and completely ignore the content. It is expected without question here.

Last week I rented a 2013 Challenger R/T. It looked a lot like this:

Taken from my hotel room

Seis de Mayo!

Welcome to Messican Hangover Day.

http://hangoverschool.com/hangover-cures-that-work/

http://www.mademan.com/seven-hangover-cures-that-actually-work/

http://www.mensxp.com/health/healthy-habits/6193-9-quick-hangover-cures-that-actually-work.html

And now, the Venerable Fulton Sheen with some marital advice, just because:

Big Boob Friday–Wymyn’s Day!!!!!!!!!

What better way to honor wymyn of all types by objectifying them? I guess they could all get off their lazy asses and make me a sammich, but just posing for the camera is enough for today. Thanks bishes. *slap on the ass.

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But before we get to the wymyns, let’s take a moment to sing an ode of pure romance, aimed squarely at the pulsing, throbbing, emotional side of these lovely lasses that possess massive chesticles. OR DOES IT?

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Yes please!