He looks like a new-age holistic healer who honestly believes that crapping on your chest while playing a happy lil' diddy on his banjo will cure your eczema and occasional bout of bad breath.
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It's a sick game. We psychoanalyze people in pictures. We make up their backstories. And we have a lot of fun doing it.
14 comments:
He isn't a child molester, but he looks like one.
Actually, he is really quite harmless.
...
He just likes to perform cunnilingus on chipmunks. In the privacy of his own home. While he wanks into his hat.
And that is why he is smiling.
He's bald, down the middle, just like your dad.
He's also got a Gorbachev spot in roughly the same place under that splotch on his hat. It's as if the mark can penetrate anything that attempts to cover it.
You try your hardest not to look at the spot when he takes his hat off. Partly out of courtesy and partly because he offered to buy you a beer. To keep from looking at it you look him in eyes. Probably more intently than a stranger ought, but he doesn't seem to mind. You see, women don't really hang out at this bar.
You're straight of course, but you are finally coming to grips with that memory of walking home from soccer practice. Two blocks from the field you saw your dad sitting in a green Astrovan. He didn't see you but you saw him, and the guy who was giving him head.
Anyways, you continue to look him in the eyes instead of at that spot on his head. "Thanks, buddy." "No prawwwbb" He's pretty drunk. He opens his mouth again as if he's going to say something, but then he forgets what it was. You are now staring at his mouth. This makes you uncomfortable so you redirect your gaze upwards where it finally lands on his spot. His eyes cross upwards in a pointless attempt to look at whatever it is you're now staring at. Ooops. Embarassed, if not confused, you excuse yourself, out the back door to the parking lot.
Your car is blocked in by a green Astrovan.
He looks like the bass player in a folk rock band. His wife follows him from show to show. He hates it because he likes big haired cocktail waitresses with nametags that bring him long neck buds. He rips off the labels of said beer between sets. He secretly hates horses because one kicked him in the back of the knee when he was approaching to feed it. He limps now and has gotten used to it, particularly because of the attention he derives from it. His smile is fake and he really jealous of the lead singer. Jealous and maybe just a little bit attracted to him. He does not travel in the group’s van because of his incontinence. He drives a dark green Dodge Dart he bought for $400 last winter. It has no heat, but that doesn’t usually matter because of the warm climate. It has broken push button radio sets that are stuck on bible belt rants. He winces when he smokes because the smoke hurts his raw throat. He never sings back up, even on the barbershop parts. The drummer hates his guts because he once peed on his foot in a crowded bathroom.
His breath smells like nutmeg and ass.
This site rocks
J.
pinche gringo loco!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He looks like he's trying to hard.
His real name's Vince Magliano and he'se from Jersey. The FBI said he'd be safe, but he can spot the occasional Marshall covertly checking up on him. If he can spot them, who's to say Knuckles Volare can't follow them right to his front door.
Knuckles doesn't care for "guyz dat betray da family."
Vince (now Bud) tries to blend in. His only solace is the one redeeming quality about this backassward hick town. Everything's bigger in Texas.
Even the guns.
At 22, Darren graduated from Princeton with an empahsis in finance and entered wall street as a high powered investment banker. One day he was having an argument with the man who worked at the newspaper stand outside his office...apparently they had run out of the Wall Street Journal. As the argument got heated he took a couple steps towards the counter and then heard a loud *splat* sound right behind him. He turned around to see that his friend Barry had become one with the sidewalk after falling 50 stories from his office window. The moment changed his life as he realized that Barry could have easily landed on top of him and ended his life as well. He decided it was time for change and quit his job, sold all his belongings and bought a ranch in North Dakota so that he could live the simple life. He has been there now for 20 years. Most of his days are spent sitting on his front porch playing the guitar with his dog, whom he named after his deceased friend, by his side.
He is smiling like that because he just sold a peice of shit horse to a innocent young women. The pretty young customer loves horses and evrything about them she has always dreamed of owning her own and Buck has just made it possible, she just knows with a little tenderloving care and a whole lot of feeding she can make that old nag into 1 fine trail horse. His smile looks like that of a sincere animal lover who only wants the best for his horse, but in reality he is balancing his costs against that inflated price he charged her..."auction price last week 150.00 1 flake of timothy .50, oh yeah don't forget that handfull of grain to coax him into the trailer .75 thats a total of 151.25 give or take a few cents. Then the sale price 2,500.00 not bad for the skinny old nag. The meeting ends with his reassurance of "I never had any trouble out of her" and "That is one easy keeper" and then the coup de grace "All sales are final". A quick extrange of fake phone numbers and Buck is on his way to another dog food auction with a much more substantial war chest. As for that great trailhorse he had to be put to sleep after the drugs wore off it was to painfull to watch him suffer. Vet Bill 350.00 Funeral/Backhoe Rental 450.00. And the innocent young women learns there is more than one way to get screwed by a cowboy.
He looks like Roy Rogers lesser known brother Billy Rogers. He tried his whole life to get out of his older famous brothers shadow, with no luck. He picked up a bad cocaine habit back in 1975 after his wife left him for his brother. Today, he runs the ring toss game down at the fairgrounds in Tupelo Mississippi. He lives in a double wide trailer with his dog Kojac and his sister Jodie-Sue Rogers, they are expecting a boy in april.
He looks like a trucker.
After the lightning strike that split his hat and fused his brains, most people thought ole Dirty Dingus was a much friendlier fellah.
He looks like Crocidile Dundee's retarded cousin who got his left leg bitten of by a koala.
Kudos to Sean and jason. Literacy lives!
So many blogs and only 10 numbers to rate them. I'll have to give you a 9 because you have a quailty topic.
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