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Pure Guava

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Pure Guava last won the day on September 5

Pure Guava had the most liked content!

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About Pure Guava

  • Rank
    This is actually Adam Scott, Hollywood Bad Boy
  • Birthday 04/03/1973

Contact Methods

  • Website URL
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adam_Scott_(actor)
  • Twitter
    https://twitter.com/mradamscott
  • Instagram
    https://www.instagram.com/mradamscott/?hl=en

Profile Information

  • Location
    Adam Scott's house, usually.
  • Favorite Earwolf Podcast
    Hangin with My lovely wife Naomi, reading Harry Potter to my kids, listening to U2, REM, and if I need to change my vibe? Drop some choice Dead shows (1972 for mellowing me out after kicking Hollywood's ass, 1977 for getting me revved up and ready to kick Hollywood's ass again). then it's time for some straight chillin' round the way, Santa Cruz style, ya know? Puffin' hooters, chewing boomers and making tie-dye shirts for my Dad's friends, then at sunset head down to my church, which you might know as the beach, but for us Cruz Cruisers AKA the Boardwalk Bunch AKA the SCBOYZ it's known as church, not the beach. So church bells ring and I open my eyes to discover I'm kneeling in front of an altar boy not a blue foamy crusher that's when I realize I went to an actual church, not the beach, which is known as church to me, but instead of hitting the gnar-gnar water ladders with my 8ft soft-top boogie board (ages 12-up only, I don't play around with that kiddie stuff, that stuff that is for kids) custom spray painted to have the original poster art for The Lost Boys but my head airbrushed over that dude from Bill and Ted that's not Keanu because that's why I got into pretending to be other people in front of cameras, to meet remake Lost Boys with the same cast except not-Keanu and I guess another reason I slyly waited until now to smirk at you knowingly, pull my sun shades down my nostril middle and I turn to the camera I envision everywhere I go at all times " I heard you can make some pretty big paychecks, we're talking BOO-KOO-DOLL-ORR-AYS BROOOOOSSS"

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6634 profile views
  1. This tragedy has got the goodgedies, if Catchphrase Submissions had a house full of us in it I would want ClownCarRaggedy as my roommate and my new bestie. Off camera we sulk, tormented by the knowledge that each step we take is one closer to fulfilling life's eternal promise of killing you one day. But on camera? We be drinking schnapps and pappin' pills , we be slicing wedges at the club, getting krunk with the fly lady, she buzzing all the time, she annoying. We swat her and say hi to the moth babes near the flame. Yeah bugging out is better than tugging snout, knowwhaddimsayinboiiiiiii

     

  2. Pure Guava

    Gimme that old-tyme elision. Like in ancient his'try

    This is Solid Gold Award for Best Solid Gold Award-Level Artistry-level artistry right here
  3. You know you're dating a real bad boy if he crosses his i's and dots his t's
  4. My family would be terrified to know how many life choices were made by hallucinating Michael Keaton answering "What would Mr. Mom do in this situation?" & following the advice exactly no matter how many times it involved cocaine & firearms.
  5. Gallons? I'm not into the ladies, buddy, I'll take my gas in gal-offs, thank you very much.
  6. So the squirrel squealed, surprise, surprise. You know what they say, behind every nut-filled cheek lays a tongue just waiting for a chance to wiggle. Well I'll make sure this squirrel's tongue's wiggle chances are on a one-way ticket to Dodo Town, with a layover in Dinosaur International, flying bullet to the forehead airlines ::puts hand in vest where gun usually is:: ::as hand fishes around gun-less, squirrel starts laughing harder and harder::
  7. Cops? What do you take me for, some sort of duplicitous scoundrel? A swindling blackguard out for a lock-em-up and free squirrel meat? No. No. No. The only cops I know are my partner of 20 years, Lieutenant Karlsson Joseph "Karjo" Vanderpump. And Sarge. And Detective Daveed in Cold Corn Cases. And Big Lou, Stevie Peppers, Jimbeldon, Skrewy Skeeve the Stuffed Up Steve in Homicide. And Pee-Pee Balloons, Georgie Porny, Gaga Lady, Fickle Frankle, Dick Trickle-Pickle, Prick Tickle-Drickle, Tick Prickle-Drick (no relation) in the CSI Lab, and the entire traffic department, all the rookies in the dunk tank awaiting dry towels and a chance at the big time, oh and Cat Patrolman, the cat cop with mad hops. But none of them are here. And that is irrelevant. Because it' s past midnight and I'm sitting on 30 cases of corn that ain't gonna be worth crack spit come sunrise, and the only squirrel I be seein' right now is the one I am looking at in my photos over and over again because I loves him and misses hims and needs to pet his squirrel nut face again PRONTO NOW ASAPEEEESH?
  8. Pure Guava

    Help us with the CBB 2019 Calendar!!

    Good thing I replied in October. Just made the cut! Calendar superstardom, here I come, ooooh can you just picture it? The lazy denim Wednesdays with Teri Garr and Jon Lovitz? The sparkling watermelon coolers in the pool house with the Small Wonder robot and Charo? And to think what my life would have been like had I waited just one sun roundie!
  9. Gorp. Get your gorp here. Weird name, great taste. Well, not this particular batch, no chocolate in this one but hey.......raisins are......ummmm....Get your Gorp here. Gorp. Gorp for sale. Get it while it's funny to say and hard to chew. Which is always.
  10. Back in my day, we had to write out our catchphrases in longhand using our own blood as ink due to the ink shortages caused by the using ink as blood fad that was sweeping the nation and mopping the country at the time.
  11. Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? Bitch, don't be gettin all green thumb up in here after you just called me "quite contrary" How 'aboutt I go quite contrary on your face with this ho, ho. THat's how my garden grow, yo
  12. My pee is yellow. My mood is mellow. If only I had a catchy nickname. And that is how Pee Mood soda was born.
  13. Any human eating dog food falls into one of 3 categories: 1. Curiosity (same people that taste their own cum). 2. Dare/to show off (same people that eat a bucket of their own cum) 3. Legit hunger/hobo times (same people that can't cum because Denver Pete sliced their peckers off for stealing his beans)
  14. If ALF isn't voted into the Pog Hall-of-Fame unanimously in his first year eligible, we riot.
  15. First things first the Guava you speak of is on a vacation of the mind and has brought in the brain in a jar of a curious ol' specter he once cleaned nipples from baby bottles for, 1,000 a day or he got the boot. He lasted one hour but the ol man made enough of an impression on him that the Pure Guava auto-reply bot can do enough of an impression of him that nothing could go wrong and it will be short and funny not long and weird. OK then: Brittle old nipples, eh? You didn't mention the age nor the....condition of your milk nozzles....Oh yes, that is exactly what I said "milk nozzles". Yes, on purpose. Milk nozzles is of course not medically accurate due to your gender but now we play a little game called Ponder this Powder Puddle: Question: Would they would be milk nozzles if Mother Nature wasn't such a cruel unforgiving hag that sought it fit to deny half of the human race their rightful place as owners of the white gold, the liquid silver, the life-giving platinum? Answer: Shut up boy the grown up is talking: Yes I speak of the milk of mankind: boobie drip drops slurpy slurp.....pardon my drool pool, when the vitamin fortified baby grower, the pale oil burning in man's guts for millennia straightening his back and his as well as his...ahem....desire to pillage every village, to plunder moist crevices and become thunder, hoist nemesis into the tear-filled canyon of that stingy salt water succubus, Oh Ye gods, why place me upon yonder man milk-denier planet? Why see to it that the birthed me carried with it an accursed flappity dappity, the existence of which is my expired plates on the milk truck of life! And Mother Nature the no-nonsense man hater who drops a kilo of what appears to be cocaine to the judge, sending me to a life sentence of having a milk-free chest like some barbaric heathen barrister get his curly wig kicks from boiled oil enemas on a jaywalker EGADS MAN my imagination frightens me....calm down, me, the British Buffalo Bill is from ages too long ago for the memory echo to bubble to the surface on occasions other than your memory palace...OF HORRORS. Dearest milk Lords in the sky, let me pay a fee, let me feel the knife's steel redemption, let me live backwards until I shimmy up sweet momma's sweet Virginia hidey-hole and let me and my blade friend, Ol' Slingsalot rearrange me until I'm sane You see boy, I'm dead set on getting my man chest flowing with a white gusher strike so immense my 74 years of begging deaf gods for a way to tap into the holy milk core no matter their cost physical or spiritual you can have my soul you can my soul's glow I need to borrow your nipplers if I can be so blunt, I have a lead that has me smelling that water tower of calcium juice in my sleep, I'm close I tells ya, closer than any man alive or dead has come to turning his desert teets into a white oasis. You seem confused. Let me see the noppy napple slaps you spoke of earlier, if they are as brittle and old enough to pass as a 5 star on my 5 star rating system I'll change my will before my sponge is fully squeezed. If you are just sweet talking a poor old dying milkman? Then may you be cursed to spend eternity with your lips glued on a zombie cow's fecal and bacteria sewage spurts as that toxic sludge squirts into baby dead you's half-shredded yuck lip while all the other calves next to you get Kate Upton clones for all their milk desires and all their dick milk desires once they come of age and you'll have to sit there with your impartial lips sealed to your rot cow momma so as to not miss a putrid drop of your 24/7 meal in a dead tube I will not rest until mah-mah-mah-maaaahllllkkky milllllllllkkkkkjummmmmmmsss MILK Ah yes, It seems I have flooded this office with my energetic saliva shower due to the conversation being that white soup I want to shove into where I poop-centric, you see, I have a visceral reaction that Pavlov himself would cross out due to the outlier status of my off-the-chartski-supercharged as fuck state when milk, mommy's milk, mind you, gooooosssshhhhh guuuuuuusssshhhh oh my, feeling a bit faint after that one, now where was I? Yo-you-ou best not be drinking or thinking milk from any other source than female human. Period. Milky atoms crossing my lips from a source of Nuts and beasts of the field? EGAD sinner, next you'll tell me incest porn is a mainstream hit rather than the impossible to find, backroom kill a stranger to secure the password, travel 3 months on a dusty dicked donkey to find some gold nugget swallowing master of ceremonies eager to vacuum your hard earned purse but stingy as a dead Santa Claus to let us get our hands on the present we came for to cum for. A horror show meant for freaks and billionaires back in the old times That is surprising, huh. ....cow milk? More like: How milk? Almond milk? Allwrong Milk is what I say. Coconut milk? NoMoNut, kilt, because I'll castrate ya and make you wear a skirt to show off your new scar parts. Cashew Milk? Bash you, Quick is my answer to that inquiry. I think I'm dying of dehydration brought on by squirting out a drool pool's worth of excite-spit when milk is in my thoughts which is every 2 minutes. Bury me in a vat of breast milk and you can drive the Bentley of your choice home. I now lay down for one more tormented EARTH slumber but when I wake I shall be in utero and I swear if I see a dongle dangler down below, there isn't a hog's Meade in heaven or earth that could stop me from strangling my fetus face until I get another spin on the crystal wheel to a new belly hole home and I'll keep ropin' and mopin' until the chromosomes are of a pattern that allows me to drip my dreams from my head beams to my lips, what a trip! I could go on for hours because of my hate for mimicry of man's mammalian moisture miracle knows no bounds but you know what does have bounds? My hydration levels, they seem to have passed into an area lacking enough to bring about my demise quick enough where there is only one course of action, Jack's son.
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