BONER PARTY!!!
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Head Writer: Ned Hepburn
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remember when that shit was so incredibly fucking real? thats was the coolest thing in the world. it was like “im going to play poker with george clooney and brad pitt and obama and the guy in those dos esquis commercials” or “i beat this chick in Scrabble one time using a word that means gorilla boner” kinds of levels of excitement we’re talking about here. i totally believed. i got way into it. i was so totally convinced it was santa claus. it was like a classic OverBro™ moment.
“hey, Santa. you’re… you’re like… the coolest” and then you’d kinda start crying a little and then he’d ask what you wanted in life and then you’d hug and you’d have to go. i hate getting OverBro™’d. you get all Bromotional™.
you will never be as happy again as you were when you could freely stick your hand down your pants in public.
i’ve always considered myself to be a bit of a Boob Man.
that totally looks like the “I’m a PC” guy.
Alie & Georgia Present: The Bloody Bacon & Cheese
Joins hosts Alie Ward and Georgia Hardstark as they take you on a comfort food-fueled journey of alcoholic delight and make their newest libation creation: The Bloody Bacon & Cheese. Combining the best parts of tomato soup with grilled cheese & bacon, the BBC is sure to fill you with warmth and good cheer, the perfect antidote to holiday headaches.
Created, hosted, & written by Alie Ward & Georgia Hardstark
Directed, shot, & edited by Peter Atencio
Produced by Alie, Georgia, and Peter
the sound you heard thirty seconds before you played this was Americas libido waking up. cue the Guthrie and the protest songs. the revolution has started.
Let's talk about Demi Moore's vagina in 1981
It looks as if it has always been there, before all the mountains, before the oceans, older than the earth’s core. That bush is as old as God.
It looks as if you could let it grow infinitely; it would reach to just under her breasts and wrap downward like legwarmers. I opened this photo three times today before I noticed her breast is bared. It looks as if it is supposed to cover a wider space—say, from mid-thigh to mid-thigh—and that someone shaved around it minutes before the photo shoot. You know how sometimes the two sides of a highway will split, leaving a wide median of trees and scrub?
Was this bush shocking in 1981? I’m aware that pubic hair styles trend like anything else, but surely not everyone is capable of growing a specimen like this one. —or are they? If you started trying today, could you grow that bush? Is that normal or must you be gifted, genetically, to reach such heights?
It is assertive, like it wouldn’t give a shit about going to dinner without makeup on.
(via the amazing Eagle Flies With Dove)
boom.
have this bitch sing about what she’d do if she only had a brain, throw some straw in between her boobs and she’s a scarecrow, then have a fox looking majestic and mysterious in the background and watch it get reblogged the shit out of.
and they call ME sexist.
Pulitzer Adds Web-Only Category.
Ladies and Gentlement, start your engines. (via)
YOU GUYS! BONER PARTY FOR THE WIN!!!
USA!!! USA!!!
Lady Elsbeth’s ankles are quite exquisite and she exhibits a sense for fashion that includes the finest ruffled petticoats! Her father has offered me a dowry of seventeen fatted calfs and land including a cul overlooking the Tyne. WYFE MATERIAL. Amirite?
I would indeed lay her down. Yay verily, indeed. I bet you one farthing her quim tastes like a fine port! I would Jane on her Austen’s and she could go Wilde on my Oscar. Oh, m’lady. Oh, you.
i thought that “The Girlfriend Experience” was going to be two hours of Sasha Grey going “but we had thai food LAST WEEK” and then locking herself in the bathroom with a Coldplay cd. boy, was i wrong.
OH MY GOD WHO GIVES A SHIT.
first its a boy in a balloon and now its an ex swedish au pair going batshit with a golf club. who gives a fuck? theres wars going on.
When I was 11, I had dreams of making sweet flexible love to the 1996 USA Women’s Gymnastics team.
I was an early bloomer.
it wasn’t until recently that i came to admit to myself that Kerri Strug and i would never consummate. this isn’t so much a “pun” as a brutal revelation i had one night. she was never going to “read Catcher In The Rye” with me and she was never going to “just come hang out one day after practice”; the window of that moment was nearly 13 fucking years ago. the shameless realization of the futility of celebrity crush-dom never felt so heavy as that moment that i realized that.
with a heavy heart, dear readers. with a heavy heart did i let that moment go and let that moment fall to the floor like a polaroid fall from my fingers.
epic. sigh.
hey Allison? we gotta talk. this whole ‘drive me to Staples’ thing day after day? not working out. there’s bus routes, babe. and i dont think you need anymore of that duster stuff because that computer is as cleeeean as a whistle. oh boy.
happy thanksgiving from me and natalie, and the taco truck on Romaine and Western in East Hollywood.
x
