Big Boob Friday

I’m just gonna apologize in advance for what’s about to happen here today. Deeply, and with heartfelt empathy for your flaccid donut, I’m sorry.

Today’s musical selection is of the deep hizouse variety and features a smokin’ hot Eastern European babe as the visual accompaniment to a lovely track. I wrote this while measuring the hourly bacteria count on countertop butter. That’s a lie. I didn’t write this song. I’ll allow you a second to recover.

Honestly, I feel bad about this. Brandy Talore is a former adult movie star, turned professional trailer trash, back to porn, then back to full time trash. She got her start in the yogurt catching business after a brief stint as a nude model. But fear not, she made sure that her family knew what she was doing. It’s also posited that her rather large udders and nips were the products of nursing two children all before the advanced age of 22. Nine years later Brandy called it quits but then briefly came back to the biz in 2017. To say that the off camera years were a bit hard on her is like saying that Illan Omar has the grace of a debutante. Poor fap disaster!

Amy Shumer?

Tuesday Aural Tragedy

So Car i N pointed us down this path and Sean laid the last paving stone.

Yep – the wonderful world of music.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medieval_lituus

and the odd instruments thereof

Emergency Thursday Poat

Since the usual suspects were not available, I’ll go ahead and put up a poat that’s fresher than your mom after fleet week.  Content will be minimal, a sampler of themes from the rest of the week.

We’ve got well-formed glutes and poorly-tucked penii. *check*

How about some hard-bodied pretty-boys? *check*

Bore, God of Blunder? *Check* and *Check*

And titties and a vacant stare. *Check*  I’m not sure if she’s been featured before, and I’m too lazy to ask.

Who Dat? Not My Preznit!

As I’m sure you are all aware president Obama is set to make his big comeback to the US and public life after pretending to write his memoirs on a mega yacht with Oprah and Tom Hanks (WILSON!!!!!!!). Here’s an excerpt of his first draft that will be later turned into dramatic prose by a little known college professor and spontaneous combustion enthusiast. 

Chapter 1

Barack’s version: Sat down to watch a rerun of SportCenter at 11 after calling SlowJoe and a quick workout with Mooch. Fell asleep. Woke up during the nooner of SC just in time to see Venus Williams winning some white shit tourney for the third time. Man, what an ass. I’d like to put a Mike Tyson mask on her and lay into them hindquarters. Trump sucks! San Demus High School rules!

Ayers version: Five Nine score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

MMM 232: Until Retirement or Cancellation

That’s how long I’ll be here.  May as well grit my teeth and make the best of it.  At least it’s honest work and the pay is pretty good and the benefits are nice and there are lots of holidays and my office chair is comfy…

Huh, maybe I’m just a whiny malcontent after all.

Flowy skirt.

MMM 211: Hostile Work Environment

So I work with a lot of democrats.  They aren’t shy about it, either.  Happily they rush to virtue signal to each other about how “xenophobic” the Trumpkins are, or how Ted Cruz (!) who memorized the Constitution at age 13 nonetheless does not understand it.

Yeah, that Ted Cruz.  The guy who’s won cases before SCOTUS.

I thought having coworkers again would be one nice feature of ceasing the telecommute.

I WAS WRONG.  I’m not a confrontational guy, I don’t want to argue or even talk about politics at work, and I sure as heck don’t want to listen while my coworkers express derision and disdain for me (and most readers of this site), even if unwittingly.

Somehow, some way, this is all to the good.  Some good thing will come out of my disastrous decision to join this endeavor.  I have made every effort to escape, and I keep hitting walls or just plain having bad luck.  So I wait, and I pray, and I look for ways to escape.  I was trying to get out before annual bonuses come out, but it looks less and less likely at this point.

Fluorescent shooooos

I like nice calves.

Christmas flips a tire.

Bellybutton sans lint.

 

She looks fun.

Nice curls.

This is all artistic ‘n’ stuff.

Deadlifts are just as good for the booty as squats, possibly better.

More arty stuff.

Wistfully looking outside.

Week 29 begins.  My whining continues.

What would you buy with the Powerball jackpot?

We’ve all dreamed about it. What would you do if you had Fuck You Money? Would you invest it prudently? Start the business you’ve always dreamed about? Pay Obama to take a vow of silence for the rest of his term? No, we all know what you’d do with the money:
 

 
Anyway, there are some more things you could buy after the jump.

MMM 201: Working on my dad bod

I’m getting fat. Not making/getting time for the gym, barely eating right, not getting enough sleep, and I turn 40 next week. Fatherhood and this whole “driving to work” thing is killing me. The former is worth it, the latter is not. I need motivation this week, and lots of it.

Also sleep. And some steak. And less alcohol. And like a hundred pullups.

Stones fan?

One potato, two potatoes, three potatoes, more!

That’s some groovy vinyl right there! I hope you liked that early surf guitar, psychedelic sound. The Crossfires eventually became The Turtles.