Obama II: Cockfacefuckaloo

That last word seems made up but it isn’t. If you search for it on the intertitty you’ll find a wealth of information.

So Obama is back, and this time going to kick ass and use cliches, and he’s all out of cliches. The world is stuck like a deer in the headlights of a sixteen wheel suck mobile, paralyzed at his magnificence–or so the media would have you believe.

The truth, harder than a diamond, and as difficult to swallow as a giant bitter pill is that only a few people actually care; rich old liberals and black women. The rest of us are just trying to get on with our lives. The days of our lives, even.

So please, do us a favor, oh God Emperor of the Early Release Television Series, go the fuck away. Obama could build a speech generator using the words, ‘world, future, change, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, let us, hope, and destiny,’ bridged together with terrible sentence formations and almost no one would notice. Just put up a cardboard cut out and play side A of the tape called ‘Flattering Rich Crackers’ then flip it over to side B, ‘I am Black Also, and Understand You.’

Save everyone else some time, dickface. If we wanted to be talked down to or bored to death we’d use bad grammar in a blog post and wait for Hotspur to show up.

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This man, right here, the one I’m pointing to…is a DICK!!!

BBF

Hello saucy wenches,  and welcome to Big Boob Friday.

 

 

Your model for today is an adult film star, she was born January 5th, 1980 in Panorama City, CA.  Standing 6 feet tall, 36F-30-34 and 165lbs, please stop making fish sticks great again long enough to welcome, Miss Alison Tyler!

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Do You Like to Wear Hats?

There was a time when both men and women regularly wore hats. As a kid I remember some older men wearing hats but over the years they’ve faded away. I didn’t play baseball as a kid and I sure as hell would have looked like a tool walking around with a football helmet on so I wore bandanas when I worked in the yard, hiked and went running. After I discovered that there were hat sizes courtesy of the US Army I was finally able to buy a fitted Red Sox cap which I promptly lost in a topless Jeep on 495 heading back from Cape Cod.

Probably the only hats I see nowadays are the ubiquitous baseball hat and, in the winter, stocking caps for warmth. Folks in the Midwest and Texas are used to seeing people wearing cowboy hats. In New England, if you wear a cowboy hat and are not riding a horse (or Mare) at the same time, you are a douche.

The whole reason I’m thinking of hats is an image I saw while surfing the internet. It is Lena Olin, kneeling over a mirror wearing lingerie and a man’s hat. It is from a scene in a movie based on the book “The Unbearable Lightness of Being“. I read the book on the recommendation of a girl who gave me a great hummer after I broke off my engagement with another girl. I figured it was the least I could do. Anyway, I totally forget what the book is about but remember it was an okay read.

This image ended up on the wall in the men’s room at a bar called Ralph’s in Worcester, MA along with hundreds of other random clippings from magazines that were used for wallpaper by someone who liked decorating bathrooms. Someone had written, with ballpoint pen, “I fucked her titz (sic)” and signed it Fitz. During the 10 years I lived in that town I’d say I went to Ralph’s about 100 times and drank between 200-300 pints of beer there. Over that time the IfuckedhertitzFitz girl greeted me every time I drained my bladder. Who knows, maybe she still greets drunkards to this day.

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