BBF

Hello my babies, and welcome to Big Boob Friday.

 

 

 

Your model for today was born March 2nd, 1994 in Edinburg, Texas. She stands 5’3″, 34D-24-34 and 95 lbs. Please fasten your seat belt and say Buenos Dias to Miss Megan Salinas.

Christmas Angel Alert

During the holy Christmas season it’s time to get right with God (or Santa for the heathens). Angels are to God as Elves are to Santa. I think. That really wasn’t covered extensively during my years at Catholic learning institutions. There’s a whole hierarchy of angels out there. I’m familiar with the guardian types, messenger types and, thanks to the show Supernatural, the avenging angel as exemplified by Castiel. Some singers have voices like angels.

HHD – Gearing up for the Games

Roamy must be busy, so I’ll throw together an HHD poat for her.

Watching OnDemand shows for NBC (The Brave, WOO HOO!) has exposed me to some cool Winter Olympics ads. Of course I can’t find a link to it, since NBC probably has it locked down (why on earth would you want to release an ad to the public? why, someone might SEE IT!) but take my word for it, coolness.

My Mom

Since you sonsabitches are always making “your mom” comments, I thought it would be nice to make a poat about our moms. Feel free to update this poat with photos and stories of your own. Or if you’re too retarded to figure out how to add content, send it to me and I’ll do it for you.

My mom was born November 7, 1921 in Detroit. In those days women did not generally go to the hospital to give birth, so my mom was born at home on Drexel Ave.

My mom attended Catholic school through eighth grade, then she enrolled in a high school that taught, among other things, how to become a seamstress. After graduating as a seamstress, she went to work in a very upscale women’s clothing store which no longer exists – Himelhoch’s – pronounced himmelhose. She worked in alterations where she remained until WWII.

While my dad was over in Italy patching B-24s that returned from missions (if they were lucky) all shot to hell, my mom went to work as a clerk at Fort Wayne Ordinance Depot in Detroit.

Music Poat

I know you’ll all ignore this anyway, but once I get it out of my system perhaps we’ll all feel better.

Medium Boob Friday

Hello tucklovers. This week, we pause from our admiration of large breasted women (trigger!) and instead, shift our gaze to those C players–the gals in the middle of the bell curve. Today’s model is, er, a model who has mastered the, ‘I’m not sure why I’m here pose.’ Please give a warm welcome to Sarah McDaniel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10/10, would smash.

But before we get to the boobs, please to be enjoying a little music from Car in’s favorite band. I wrote this song whilst deep in the woods hunting for Cyn. I was looking and looking and looking and looking…

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Thursday New Poat

Good morning boys and girls and xbrads.

Here’s a fresh poat for everyone.

Scott and LauraW continue their vacation. Beasn continues the home improvement project from hell.

After five years out I’ve started to get recruitment letters asking me if I want to apply for a commission in the Army Reserve. They must be truly desperate for people.

Leon is busy denouncing the moral degredation of today’s youth.  Car in, meanwhile, has had enough of your shit.  Perhaps she shouldn’t have sent Ethan to Jimbro to get his surgery.  MJ’s busy trying to keep the spice in his marriage.

Wait… where the fuck is Xbrad?

Mare needs a little encouragement some mornings.

Shhhh… it’s going to be ok, Pupster.

Should we organize a 21-rep salute?

And now, some music:

This pretty much sums up how I feel most days. But then I realize that I have you assholes as my fake internet friends, and everything is going to be alright.

This one’s just plain fun. As is this one.

Go forth and take on the world. Remember, it’s Thursday night, so celebrate.

Highly Recommend

Hi weirdos. Here are a few things I would like to rate as a hostage:

 

TNT flooring: Meth heads that pretend to be Jesus freaks so you’ll trust them with your really big job that they swear is going to be just perfect. Will they work more than a few hours a day? No. Will they smoke meth in your house? Yes. Will you need to have the floor completely removed and done by someone else? Yes. Will the meth heads remind you of someone but you can’t quite place them? Yes.

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.

Speaking of C**ts

So funny I bust my felt wiiiiiiddddeee open.