Lauraw wears crocks
Up with the sun, gone with the wind
Everyone said Pup was lazy
Leaving my home
Leaving my friends
Running when things got too crazy
Out on the road, out ‘neath the stars
Feeling the breeze, passing the cars
I think my dictionary has a Bob Seger filter, it tried to change “Passing” to “Passin”.
Rock on with your bad selves today my friends.
Joe Strummer, the late lead singer from The Clash, would have been 64 today. 2016 has been such a shitty year that I’m frankly surprised he didn’t somehow come back to life only to die again.
Now, I know that punk rock isn’t really most of the Hostages’ favorite kind of music, but these guys are one of my favorite bands. Plus, we needed a new poat until leon puts up tomorrow’s Motivational Madness. And your mom thinks this song rocks.
Hello office twerkers, and welcome to Big Boob Friday.
Your model for today is a 20 year old French woman, model and law student. Please stop cross-fitting and welcome, Miss Audray de Macedo!
Let’s just get this out of the way right upfront:
Okay, now that we’ve dispensed with that, on to the poetry:
O, fake internet friends, how they slack off
When the long week’s toil is done and ended.
Whether they do Crossfit or just jack off,
The blog on weekends moulders, unamended.
Exceptions come, sometimes, from our Jimbro
Or if the Puppeh isn’t chasing tail.
But too often we are stuck in limbo
And Friday’s buxom freshness starts to fail.
I know well that all of you have lives
While weekends find me cloistered here at work.
But thirty-some hours on a poat is jive—
Yeah, “jive” is weak; you write the next poem, jerk!
So ends my verse, now let comments commence,
And maybe push this down some hours hence.
And frankly, so am I. You’ve become a bunch of lazy, slothful pieces of shit. I mean, I can excuse people like Hotspur and MCPO who have worked hard all their lives and are enjoying their Golden Years, but what excuse do the rest of you have?
I mean, for God’s sake, we’re almost at the end of the weekend and everyone’s still commenting on a Saturday poat while waiting to get motivated by trannies tomorrow. It’s no wonder this country is going straight to hell.
Okay, now that I’m done calling you assholes, I’m going to hopefully provide you with some motivation before tomorrow with a photo of Cal alum and insanely-hot pole vaulter Allison Stokke:
I have likely touched several surfaces that her ass has also touched.
One of my buddies sent this to me. Good luck finding it on the innerwebtubes. I think it’s been embargoed because it’s so fucking awesome.
I’m not so sure I like Trump as our candidate but I fucking hate political correctness and I love the fact that the media and GOP establishment have giant elaborate sand castles up their vagina about him.
Fuck you political correctness, fuck you media and fuck you GOP establishment.
Have fun in your safe zones, liberals.
You know what I like? Macroaggressions.
Hello cannonballers. This is a journey into sound…And by sound I mean boobs. Let’s face it (Carly Fiorina), the only reason you’d come here on a Friday is for xBrad’s hilarious jokes and the sweet, sweet sounds of boobs flapping together.
This song will really makes you want to dance.
Today’s model is famous of something other than having big cans. Kidding! She’s an actress that’s famous for knowing how to read lines while the camera focuses on her really big cans! Anyhoo, her name is Diora Baird and apparently she was in a bunch of slasher flix. Imagine her running through a forest in a tank top screaming. That’s her life’s work. Please stop protesting your nazi poop and welcome wasshername!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The following was submitted to me by a commenter calling himself “Ice”.
Look at me in the sink, sitting here melting as I please…nicely and slowly as if the pace was marked by the beating of a sleeping kitten’s heart. It is almost as if I was slightly perspiring from a pleasant stroll in the park on a brisk fall day or perhaps a short morning session of low-impact downward dog (no offense Mare).