A Reading from the Holy Gospel According to Douche

I once had a Tumblr.
I then left this place.
Now I have returned. I'm no historian, but I'm pretty sure Jesus pulled the exact same shit.

Breast cancer and football

I’m watching the Cowboys/Lions game, and this is what Joe Buck had to say about the players wearing pink gear:

“It’s breast cancer awareness month, so that explains all the pink wristbands, pink gloves, pink shoes, and pink socks.”

Let’s hope we don’t see any examples of the last one.

Concert time

Tonight I’ll be sitting on a grassy lawn, smoking a grassy bowl, and watching this (grassy?) band.

My asshole is stretched to the max

Monday was a great day. I was in a great mood, so much so that I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, today is really a great day.”

That evening, though, my car broke down on the way to the gym, and I had to walk to a nearby auto parts store to buy extra coolant because my reservoir was leaking.

Tuesday was shit, and my car was just fine.

Today was another great day. I was in a great mood, so much so that, again, I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, today is really a great day.”

This evening, though, my car didn’t start when I was leaving for the gym. I called AAA, but they could not fix it, so I now have to get it towed. It’s most likely the starter this time.

Same great day, completely different car problems. Only two days apart.

Sometimes I’m convinced a universal force exists that keeps me level by knocking me down a notch whenever I’m feeling too good about life. I mean, how else could you explain a coincidence such as that?

Have you ever wondered what it’d be like if a little girl sounded like Randy ‘Macho Man’ Savage?

Anna Molly. She’s out there.

A cloud hangs over this city by the sea
I watch the ships pass and wonder if she might be (might be)
Out there and sober as well from loneliness
Please do persist girl, it’s time we met and made a mess

I picture your face at the back of my eyes
A fire in the attic, a proof of the prize
Anna Molly, Anna Molly, Anna Molly


I’m calling your name up into the air
Not one of the others could ever compare
Anna Molly, Anna Molly!

LOVE

I had three of these bad boys last night.

BEERITA, I LOVE YOU.

I know it’s love because my stomach is doing flips just thinking about it.

Although, maybe that’s just part of the hangover.


Happy Birthday, Cum Dumpster!

I mean, Happy Birthday, Aly!

THEY’RE PRACTICALLY THE SAME THING, THOUGH.

On this special day, I decided to make you a birthday card with all of your favorite things. Cats. Muscles. Cats WITH muscles. I wanted to add an old woman, dying and alone, on her deathbed, but, surprisingly, that was hard to find on Google images.

Anyway, hope you have a fantastic day!

Oh, and don’t feel obligated to repay me for the time I spent making this card for you in Microsoft Paint. It only took me, like, thirty seconds. If you must, though, make it a blowjob, because thirty seconds is, on average, the amount of time I can last :/

DOLPHIN TALE 3D!

It opens today!

If you saw Free Willy and thought, “It would be much sadder if an imprisoned sea creature was crippled as well,” then Dolphin Tale is the movie for you!

It’s about a dolphin that receives a prosthetic tail, so the title serves as a homophone because it would have just as much meaning if it was called Dolphin Tail.

ADORABLE.

Harry Connick Jr. stars, so, if you want to see it, you’d better get there early before all the single, 40+ year-old women wedge themselves into all the good seats.

AND it’s in 3D! I can only hope that the 3D glasses effectively hide my tears of joy at the end of the movie.

Bye!

FOUR EYES MEME

FOUR EYES MEME

My. Motherfucking. Jam.

The Holy Grail. The Ark of the Covenant. The Fountain of Youth. El Dorado.

Famous explorers like Indiana Jones have tirelessly searched for these legendary items for ages, to no avail.

I think we should put an end to these pursuits, though, because mankind, with the help of Snap, Crackle, and Pop’s Creole uncle, Tony Chachere, has already discovered something much, much greater.

Tony Chachere’s Creole Seasoning.

This shit is so good, it literally shits inside of the Holy Grail. Fuck the Ark of the Covenant, too. This seasoning is promise enough that God loves His children and wants them to eat delicious tasting food whenever they please.

What makes it so good, you ask? What makes it “taste great on everything?” All you have to do is look at the container. And not the ingredients list. No, you only need look at the front: Mr. Chachere is clearly throwing a sparkly white substance into his food.

And that sparkly substance is crack. Pure, white rocks of crack cocaine.

And just like a crack addict, I would kill a man if he came between me and my Tony Chachere’s seasoning. Wait, would? Excuse me. HAVE. I HAVE killed a man for this stuff. Some straight-edge motherfucker at Tom Thumb buying the last batch, saying he’s never tried it and hoping it makes his pork chops tastier.

BITCH, LEAVE THIS SHIT TO PROFESSIONALS. IF YOU’RE NOT DISSOLVING IT IN WATER AND MAINLINING IT EVERY TWO TO THREE HOURS, THEN GET YOUR PUSSY ASS OUT OF MY WAY.