A Collection Of WTFs For Wednesday...

You may have seen some of these disturbing pics floating around before, but I felt a great need to post them today.

Too much news lately has been jarring my brain loose and I just feel like laughing.

So, without further adieu, I bring you these bewildering, sometimes eye-popping, sometimes just plain ole guffawing pics via our goddess correspondent in Santa Barbara, Diana. Thanks, Diana! I love them... And I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of commenting on each one.



Okay, the kid obviously is a total rock star. But, the guy in the background? Is he pulling his pants UP or DOWN? AND WHY RIGHT THERE???




This is fucked. This is a kid's toy. On the package, the kid is hugging Superman... Or Supermouth. Actually, I think he's playing with his nipples... And the package also says, "Stuff > Hug > Play". You know what? All of a sudden, I want one.





I'm not sure which is worse, Grandma holding the machine gun, Grandma POINTING the machine gun at the cameraman, Grandma's paddle of a left foot, Grandma's haircut, or the freak next to her WITH HIS SHIRT OFF and his hair in a bun... Why do hillbillies ALWAYS HAVE THEIR SHIRTS OFF??? I JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND.




Okay... Yeah. I don't know. Is it that top kid with the guitar all grown up? And his Dad constantly pulling his pants up and down at family parties that made him collect all these guns? I really don't know what to say, except I am SO turned on right now.




Again... I don't know. The dandelions against the green, green grass and the cherry blossoms are lovely. Just lovely. And then, after that, nature just goes awry. Like the shirt and the peg-leg aren't bad enough ("I'm just in it for the parking"). We are left to deal with a pink plush leg warmer?? Or a pink furry Ugg boot? I'm guessing? That's all traumatic enough, but then you've got to put the horse in the ground... Thanks for the TOTAL MIND-FUCK.





"Jesus Christ... Martha Mae, look at yer display! It's too late fer ye! And don't be goin and doin this kind of sheit! Yer minds all twisty-topsy-curvy! And I don't care if yer preggers... YOU'RE FIRED!!... Now, get!... ... Hey Martha Mae, we still on fer Saturday night? Ah, good. I'll pick ya up at 7 in the parking lot of the Piggly-Wiggly. And I better be bringin one of them there condams. I don't wanna be gettin' ye preggers when ya already is."





Thank you. I know that I CAN shave the baby, I just choose not to.





"Just look at her, Randy... She's lost it. Since she got fired, it's like Martha Mae has to wash Walmart right off her body. I hate to say anything, but when she gone and done get that beer belly?"




Unfortunately, it's Saturday night at 7:10 pm in the parking lot at the Piggly-Wiggly.





Fancy. I'm wasting not another minute more and I'm cutting my boobs out of every shirt I own.




And my favorite. Because a grandma barfing does it for me EVERY TIME. (I just noticed... She has A BUCKET BETWEEN HER LEGS. I... can't... breathe...)



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