Guyism After Dark: Michelle, Courteney, or Monika??? |
- Guyism After Dark: Michelle, Courteney, or Monika???
- VIDEO: This is what the man with the most tattoos on Earth looks like
- Alessandra Ambrosio once again showing us how it’s done
- Allen Iverson to police: “Do you know who I am?”
- “Dear Pricks”: The only advice column that matters
- Actress Freida Pinto herself shares the secret of beauty.
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| Guyism After Dark: Michelle, Courteney, or Monika??? Posted: 08 Apr 2011 04:00 PM PDT Hot links to get you through the night…
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| VIDEO: This is what the man with the most tattoos on Earth looks like Posted: 08 Apr 2011 01:48 PM PDT Meet Lucky Diamond Rich. According to Guinness World Records, he’s the most tattooed man in the world. And he looks absolutely ridiculous. In an effort to get the pulse of the society, I looked at the comments on the YouTube video. User thedarkskull12345 asks:
And that’s a valid question. Probably the only valid question that would arise from this video. You know why? Because this is just fucking stupid. Wow, you have no regard for being a part of society and you like to show that by spending thousands upon thousands of dollars to look silly. Awesome. I didn’t need to hear about the “why” of it all for two minutes like we were in the Actors’ Studio for Dudes Who Excel at Making Stupid Choices. Now let’s have you go back to looking like someone in the background of a Jabbawockeez dance performance and we can all move on with our lives. The Most Tattooed Person In The World [Buzzfeed] | ||||||||||||||||
| Alessandra Ambrosio once again showing us how it’s done Posted: 08 Apr 2011 01:00 PM PDT  Stop teasing and just take the damn thing off already... Here’s the latest set of photos that Alessandra Ambrosio did for Victoria’s Secret. They involve bikinis, bras, panties, armbras, the usual stuff. I’d call them a companion set to this other set of photos, but pretty much all of Alessandra’s photos are companion sets when you think about it. I do think I am starting to see how the phrase “no matter how hot a woman is there’s a man out there tired of having sex with her” could apply though. I’m not even having sex with Alessandra and I’m actually getting a little tired of her. Then again, I’m not having sex with her. That might alter my perception a bit if that were to happen. Tweet me, Alessandra!!             | ||||||||||||||||
| Allen Iverson to police: “Do you know who I am?” Posted: 08 Apr 2011 11:41 AM PDT Former NBA star Allen Iverson was a passenger in his gray Lamborghini when it was pulled over by Atlanta police last week. After a discussion about the identity of the tags on the car, Iverson became irate with officers and offered the infamous, “do you know who I am” line. Needless to say, that line didn’t get him anywhere.
The story does not say where the car is registered, but in most instances, it costs less than $200 annually depending on the state. That kind of money for a man, who, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer has made more than $200 million dollars in his career (before taxes) is a mere pittance. Next time Allen, send your driver to the Secretary of State like the rest of us common folks and pay up. It’ll save you a lot of time and heartache. | ||||||||||||||||
| “Dear Pricks”: The only advice column that matters Posted: 08 Apr 2011 11:00 AM PDT Dane Robert (aka: Cornelio Prick) and Brandon Mendelson (aka: Hugeh Prick) are two jerks who answer your questions. They’re fed up with the bullcrap canned answers that syndicated columnists give to people like you. You deserve the truth, even if it hurts. Dear Abby can kiss their backside. Dear Pricks, I would rather crap my pants than use a public toilet, how can I get over this embarrassing affliction? - Bacca
While your homosexuality is indeed embarrassing, it’s probably not as shameful as your complete lack of balls, which, unless something has changed, is a requirement when teabagging your boyfriend. So, let’s get you those balls back, so your buddies have something to fondle. First thing I’d do is give Senator Larry Craig a call. Not only will you get some great pointers, but he’ll also offer to prime your pump. If he doesn’t return your call, you might want to head to the MSP International Airport and let the others take the lead. If neither of those work out, here are several ideas that come to mind: - Try a bird call of some kind. Whistling in a bathroom is always a dead giveaway. - Reach under the stall and ask for a square of toilet paper. Single squares are only for vaginas and/or dapping your helmet. Either way you look at it, you’re gay. - Peek over the top of the stall on the unsuspecting pooper. If he smiles, you’re in (literally). - Make a pickle by connecting the tips of your two index fingers and ask him to “cut the pickle”. - Hand him a rose made out of the toilet paper. Seal the loose ends with semen. - Say the alphabet aloud, if he joins in, you can safely enter his stall. While these approaches haven’t been tested in the field, I think it’s clear that any of them will work. If all else fails, just reach underneath the stall and start massaging his inner thigh. What’s the worst that’s going to happen? Man up, pussy. Brandon Mendelson: I'm the same way. So, I don't have any real advice, but I can tell you about the time I urinated all over a famous academic building in Potsdam, New York. I was at this shithole of a bar called McDuffs, which has since gone under new management and may have been made into less of a shithole. I don't know. I haven't been there in years. You know, because it was a shithole? I'm there with my (future) wife, my college roommate Kevin, and my future wife's roommate: This woman who we'll call Fred Dukes. If you don't get that reference, f-ck you. After being bored by Fred Duke's stories about how she once ate someone and then used their bones to club beat several manatees to death, I felt the overwhelming urge to urinate. Since I'm not Tucker Max, I didn't whip out my dick and piss on Fred Dukes in retaliation for her boring me. I don't know if Tucker ever did that, but as a fan, I'd like to think he did. Since I share the same anxiety you do about using public toilets, I used to hold it from 6:20am to 3:30pm every single day while at Monroe-Woodbury Senior High School, I announced that I had to leave the shithole to take a piss. I told everyone I had to leave because the toilets at McDuffs were “beneath me”. I made it just outside Saterlee Hall (just over a mile from the bar) when I can't hold it anymore. Back then (this was the Fall of 2005), the scene shop for the Drama program used to leave a door unlocked for students to get into the building to work on their projects. Every time I've ever had to use that door, it's been unlocked. Until that night. So, I did what I should have done to Fred Dukes: I whipped out my dick and proceeded to piss all over the door to the scene shop to spite it. Since the door won't let me find the sweet comfort of a toilet I was familiar with (my exception to the not pissing or shitting in public rule), I would deny it the sweet comfort of not smelling like someone pissed a gallon of Labatt Blue all over it. Unfortunately, my aim wasn't true, and I got soaked in the process. No harm, no foul, right? But just as I started to have a minor freak out about being covered in my own urine, University Police rolled up a long the building. I proceeded to jump like the Six Million Dollar Man into the bushes and hid until the coast was clear. I got lucky, didn't get caught, and made it back to my room without people noticing what had happened. You might not be so lucky in holding it though, so I guess this is a round about way of saying: Don't be a f-cking pussy and use whatever toilet your cheeks feel the need to grace with their presence. I haven't gotten over my problems, but I don't have to. I'm a published author. Dear Pricks, The owner of my company has a son who works with me. He’s below me, but desperately wants my job. It’s obvious he couldn’t handle it but he is angling behind the scenes … it’s like I have a watchdog reporting my every move in hopes he can slaughter me. What should I do? - Mike Honch Dane Robert: You sound like a paranoid little bitch. If you haven’t already, you should read the book, “Million Little Pieces”. Much like you, after years of drug abuse, he’s completely disconnected with reality, a compulsive liar and riddled with so much paranoia that he actually believed that Oprah gave a shit about him. The reality is, you don’t have a job. If you do, it’s a job that the illegal border jumpers have even turned down. Next time you feel like wasting our time with your delusions, run them by your court-appointed social worker first. The two people responsible for bringing you into this world, have failed you miserably, you can no longer rely on their judgement. God have misery on your soul. Brandon Mendelson: Kill him. Dear Pricks, How do I break my brother out of prison? - Josh
There are several ways that this can be done, they vary greatly depending upon the institution, level of incarceration and prisoner’s self-mutilation comfort level. For arguments sake, we’re going to pretend this is a maximum security prison and your brother is in level-3 lockdown, but he’s up for anything. Before we begin, it’s important to first ask yourself, does your brother want out? If he’s been in there long than a year, there’s a good chance that he’s found a couple of playmates, gotten comfortable living off of societies dime and become immune to shower rapes. We call this becoming institutionally retarded. If this has happened, it’s best we just leave him in there. Assuming he wants out, here’s what you do: 1. Get your hands on a small rock hammer and a poster of Rita Hayworth. You may need to hide the hammer in your ass during a visitation to make the exchange. 2. Instruct your brother to start using the small rock hammer to dig a hole in the cinderblock wall, covering his work up with the poster. It’s important that he stays motivated, this may take up to 27 years. 3. Once he’s broken through, he’ll want to wait until a stormy night to leave. Once behind the wall, he’ll need to use one of the cinderblocks to bust open the sewer pipe. He should time his strikes with each clap of thunder. 4. When he enters the sewer pipe, he’ll need to crawl through shit. Remind him that this is no worse than the ass pounding he’s been doing for the past 27 years. He’ll see your point and agree. 5. Once he’s outside, tell him to run. The faster he goes, the more likely it is that the shit and piss will air dry. 6. Mission accomplished. On a side note, you may want to let him know that if he’d like to drop subtle hints to his wise black mentor on the inside, they may be able to reconnect on a Mexican beach in the future. Brandon Mendelson: Dude, come on. What are you, twelve? Get a Netflix account and watch any popular show or film about prison breaks. Hey, there's even a show called Prison Break that aired on Fox not long ago. Just don't watch anything past the second season. Jesus Christ did that show go off the rails or what? I want more Prick | Follow Dear Pricks on Twitter | Ask the Pricks a question | ||||||||||||||||
| Actress Freida Pinto herself shares the secret of beauty. Posted: 08 Apr 2011 06:31 PM PDT Slumdog girl, Freida Pinto is often considered one of the most beautiful women in the world. We always wondered what her secret was to achieve that perfect beauty. Well, the actress herself shares the secret. Freida tells a Daily that the glow on her skin is because of her vegetable juice drink. "I make loads of fresh vegetable juices with coriander or pepper so that it’s tastier. The concoction makes my skin glow and is good for the digestive system too," said the 26-year-old starlet. There was a time when Freida felt very low of her looks and body. Today, she is more confident and beautiful. Freida is the face of the international cosmetic brand L’Oreal. 
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Dane Robert: I read your question as, “When using a public toilet, how do I let the guy in the stall next to me know that it’s gay time?” I’m just going to go ahead and answer that question, considering that you were too chicken shit to ask it directly. 
Dane Robert: Alright, now we’re talking. 
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