Hunt For Faye's Tits #1: Girl Beats Boy

March 31, 2002
Author: Tome
How one man's, drunken, meandering Google search for Faye Valentine's tits went disastrously awry.

Like all red-blooded American males with cable, I was introduced to a certain pony-playing, chain-smoking, Glock 30-carrying Untamable Shrew Woman back in September. Naturally, I instantly fell in love with this firebrand, and wanted to see hot, hot pictures of her tits. Yeah, I lead a fucking sordid, pathetic little existence. I'm madly in love with a stupid drawing of an EIGHTY YEAR OLD BROAD. Fuck, that's sick. Well, at least when I beat to an eighty year old broad, I can always think of Faye-Faye instead of gristly old Otane Goketuji, who just pretty much tears the fucking fun out of being jumped on and viciously orally violated by a fighting game chick. But I digress...


YES! LIKE THAT! BUT MINUS THE COCKTAIL DRESS!
The first stop in my search for Faye Hentai was the always popular Picture Shrines, an abysmally slow listing of just about every ecchilicious anime babe and tons and tons of unbelievably obese (filewise, not “scooping handfuls of lard into your mouth.”) images of Nuku Nuku fucking Shinji's brains out or something. Jesus, I'm hard up for a date, but not even I will stoop that low in the endless search for wank fodder.

I clicked on the Faye Valentinecharacter shrine there, only to be met with NO TITS! Fuck! I spent upwards of a MINUTE AND A HALF waiting for this page to load, over my CABLE MODEM people, KAY-BULL-MO-DUMB! These dicknoses that run this site would benefit from hooking their server up to a little more than Pop's dial-in AOL account. Yes dumbasses, that Grape iMac can't handle the load of fifty thousand eager fanboys seeking that one h-doujinshi of Morrigan fucking the zombie guy with a set of jaws in his gut, or Claire fucking tons and tons of zombies to whack to.

Next step, bum off of friends, “Hey Ragu,” I'd ask. “Happen to have any scrumptious pictures of our loverly Faye Valentine's tits? H-Doujinshi or otherwise?” To which he'd reply, “Why no, my bosom, way-hetero friend. For I am bereft of even a kilobyte of Faye's goodies.” Curse the ethereal baboon! I shout as I shake my fist in the air. I'm sick of whacking to that damn La Blue Girl clip and that one stupid video of the blue-haired bat-winged chick getting hard anal sex! Shit, I must have downloaded that one NO LESS than fifty times from the Kazaa/Fasttrack network. How many times can they rename the same stupid fucking porn clip? I'll keep downloading it until I find out!

Since the old “bum off friends” trick wasn't cutting the mustard, and since the depths of the Kazaa users' porn folders are ground where angels fear to tread, much less pornhounds, I decided to hit up The Only Search Engine That Matters and get its advice on where I can find sweet sweet Faye's gorgeous globes of fatty tissue.

So, I query the greatest search engine around on where I may, perchance, find some pictures of the prettiest girl to ever be birthed from an animator's brush. The results were less than staggering... Here's a hint, from me to you. Don't click on any of those links. They all lead to a stupid fucking “toon erotica”site that leads you into Popup Hell, the only place WORSE than real hell. I imagine that these guys that make popup ads get their own special seat in real hell. They have to, for all eternity, close out popups. On a 486-33. And they have to do this for eternity. With each popup they close, ten billion more open up. On every one...

Judas, Cassius and Brutus would point and laugh at these guys, for THEY got off easy. Sisyphus was seen to crack a smile and quicken the pace of his pushing an irregularly-shaped boulder up a hill, watching it roll down the other side, then pushing it back up, knowing that this gig outside the marble gates of Elysium ain't all that bad after all.

Goddammit, that's where you can tell that the whisky is getting to my head, I start talking about the Underworld, Elysium, Sisyphus and fucking CASSIUS! NOBODY knows what YOU'RE talking about, god dammit. When will you learn! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING. As the old John Lee Hooker (moment of silence) song goes... “One bourbon, one scotch and one beer...”



Which is needed when you're wading through the cream of the absolute crap, searching vainly for Faye's tits. OH LOOK! A fucking French “(technically Quebecois -Ed.)” cosplay site! I keep telling you, ally or not, we need to give France the ol' nuke treatment worse than Japan does for that fucking Ed hentai. It's called tough love, and it hurts us more than it hurts you. Except for all the people in the uninhabitable blast crater reaching from Paris to Versailles, I think they'll probably hurt a lot more.

“(Note: At this point, the columnist, drunk on cheap Canadian beer, cheap Mexican whisky and even cheaper Sailor Moon vs Dragonball hentai, wrote some four pages on how “France fucking sucks, bomb Vietnam! I hate limey bastards!” then passed out on the keyboard in a pool of what I hope was drool. I was handed ten whole pages of the letter “D,” which, for the sake of your internet connections, as well as your opinion of the columnist's integrity as a journalist, have been edited out.)”

Where was I? Oh yes, After trundling through about twenty pages of Google results, with search parameters as varied as “Faye Faye hentai”, “faye's knockers”, “faye valentine hentai”, “faye valentine hentai -cosplay for the love of god”, and “show me your tits, faye,” I happened across the GREATEST SITE ON THE FACE OF THE INTERNET! Don't believe me, click the link. I dare you. Chicken? buk buk buk b-kawk! Thought so.


That's a boy?
Yes folks, submitted for your approval: Girl Beat Boy. At GBB, as I like to call it, go and take every way-cool hentai rape comic you've ever read, and turn the tables. BAM! Instant hilarity. Sick of seeing demure little girls with tiny waists and hips so un-“birthin'” that couldn't pass a walnut? Then come on down to GBB! Marvel at sketchy drawrings of giant women with huge, manly hands, tweaking, torquing, pulling, prodding, kneeing, sitting on, sucking off and beating the ever-loving shit out of cute little, EXTREMELY FEMININE, manga boys. Man, those yaoi characters have it EASY, all they have to do is look cute and take giant, gleaming dicks in the ass. These poor kids get their faces sat on by giant women, punched in the gut by these amazons while their tiny japanese cocks are hanging out, get their precious genitals stomped on by angry angry girls, and generally have everything that a most-likely fat and acne-scarred Japanese highschooler's concerning personal issues can drag to the surface. If you can stomach our favorite Waiza-Uziga shit, then this stuff will send you into peals of schoolgirlish giggling. The sketchbook ALONE is worth the fighting through that batshit insane language known as “Japanese.” God this stuff is classy. And if it weren't so god damned scary, I'd be whacking to it RIGHT NOW.

In conclusion, a song...

Sit on my face and tell me that you love me.
I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too.
I love to hear you oralise
When I'm between your thighs.
You blow me away!

Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you.
I'll sit on your face, and then I'll love you truly.
Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine
If we sit on our faces in all sorts of places and play

Till we're blown away!”

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!?





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