Friday, March 16, 2012
Old but amazing video of boob legend Danni Ashe working at the carwash! The part with her rubbing her big tits on the windshield…OH MAN!!!
Me and my friend Sid slept in a car last night.
I can explain.
First off, it was Sid’s car—it wasn’t just some random stolen vehicle. And second, it wasn’t our intention at the beginning of the night—actually, I’m pretty sure it was Plan D on our list of options.
Here’s how it happened…
Yesterday afternoon he tells me some girl he’s friends with has a beach house for the weekend with a couple of other girls, and she said we can come down, go out with them, and crash there.
Of course I go along and we get down there late afternoon and hit the beach for a couple of hours. He talks to her on the phone, just gets that she’s on “15th street” and tells her we’ll call when we head up that way to her place in a little while. We do exactly that, but he gets her voicemail.
An hour goes by. No callback and we don’t know what house she’s in.
Two hours go by. You see where this is going now.
Now we’re confused, pissed-off and weighing other options:
Or stay and get a hotel room (for P1,500—fuck that).
Or try calling anybody we know who might be in Batangas (no luck).
Or my favorite plan: Just go to a bar, throw all standards out the window and latch onto ANY girl we can find who has a beach house.
Of course, none of these options worked out and after the bar closed I found myself sleeping in the passenger seat of a Honda City at 2:30 in the morning.
A strangely comfortable car for sleeping in, by the way. Not sure if they use that as a selling point.
But this is rock bottom—although “not sleep in a car” wasn’t my New Year’s Resolution this year, I think it’s just an understood resolution for every year.
The funny thing is, as awful as it was, I slept pretty okay and didn’t wake up at all until 6:15 when some guy knocked on our window and told us we should probably leave before the cops saw us, which was nice of him I guess. Actually, he was a little TOO NICE to us—he then asked if we needed to use his bathroom.
Swear to God.
We didn’t, but if I had to do it over again, I would have asked him if he could whip us up a nice batch of pancakes.
I think if there’s a moral to this story, it’s this: SLEEPING IN A CAR SUCKS.
And sleeping in a car with one of your friends next to you sucks.
And oh yeah, my friend Sid’s friend Edith sucks, too.
As of tonight she STILL hadn’t called him back, so I’m kind of inclined to think she isn’t real at all—that she only exists on Facebook or something.
And if she is real, and magically happens to read my blog, let me introduce myself right now.
Hi Edith, I’m Joey.
We haven’t met yet.
PLEASE GO FUCK YOURSELF.
I slept in a car last night.
I don’t want spoil anything about this video, chronicling the latest exploits of the Mortal Kombat Flash Mob Dancers, but I will say every time I thought it couldn’t get any awesomer, it did. Are these guys available for birthday parties?
Sophie Turner was on Twitter recently where she gave us an exclusive behind the scenes look of her ass at some photo shoot for something that gave them an excuse to put her insane body in a bikini.
Nice work, people who thought of a reason to put Sophie Turner in a bikini. This could be a shoot for a calendar to raise money to help Joseph Kony open an all-girls school, and it would still seem like a good idea.
Scroll down a post below. See that? Way too much ugly. So here’s Vanessa Hudgens, Selena Gomez, and Ashley Benson on set of the barely legal teen ass drama, “Spring Breakers.” IMDB tells me that this movie is about “four college girls who land in jail after robbing a restaurant in order to fund their spring break vacation find themselves bailed out by a drug and arms dealer who wants them to do some dirty work.” He’s probably making them wear short shorts or something like that.
Sarah Jessica Parker is quite possibly the ugliest woman who has ever lived, but she has somehow become a fashion icon because HBO’s wardrobe department handed her clothes to put on for six years. So here she is at the Louis Vuitton Show in Paris, apparently to make everybody in the audience feel better about themselves.
Christ, she’s hideous. She’s like some witch who tricked homely girls across America into thinking that they could come to NYC and be fashionistas and that some rich guy would marry them, except they’ve all been there for ten years now and they still live in a five-floor walk-up with six roommates who all have paralegal or hostess jobs and massive debt but at least they have a bunch of high heels and other shit they can’t afford because some ugly make-believe bitch on television told them that oh whatever I’m done this is taking way too long. You get my point.
“CAUTION: TOXIC FUCKERY AHEAD” signs went up all along Secret Island Beach in Oahu, Hawaii yesterday right before broken glow stick Nicki Minaj smeared her antifreeze wig and butt Skittles all over the sand. Nicki tainted the sea with her neon marker pussy to shoot the video for her song “Starlight.”
I’ve stared at these pictures for a good 10 minutes and I still have no idea what Nicki is trying to portray here. Does Nicki play the Loch Mess Monster who has crawled out of the ocean to birth out its spawn on the beach? Does Nicki play Pizzazz from The Misfits who is an object-sexualist and is in an intimate relationship with the sun. Because it really does look like Nicki is imagining the sun’s rays as a solar peen and is trying to fuck it.
We’ll never know. Even when this video comes out and we all waste 4 minutes of our time by watching it, we’ll still never know. Nicki is that