This dude is like the Bugs Bunny version of Peter Lorre. I can't tell whether I'm amused or afraid. He keeps staring at me. I look away, then I look back, and Bugs Bunny Lorre is still staring. Stop staring at me!!

Laura Dern Hottie's not that hot, but then again, neither is Laura Dern.

I see this pic not literally but as a visual metaphor. As figurative representation. This isn't just a happy couple and a skeezy scrote, but a signifier for what I like to call "The 'Bag Within." The Primal Douche that lurks in the deep, dark subconscious of the American Dream.

On the left we have a happy go lucky all American Aryan couple, looking forward to future years of healthy blond children, SUVs and a dysfunctional sex life.

But on the inside of this square chinned corn-fed American boy lies something sinister. A deep, primal source-douche lurking among his tighty whiteys and subscription to Vanity Fair.

The Primal Douche. The 'Bag Within.

It rages. It struggles to free itself. Among Strapping Lad and his perky young co-ed girlfriend, there lies the urge to morph into a skeezy tongue-bag. To wear bizarre wool coats and leer obnoxiously at a camera, his tongue stained with a thousand cheap wines. His breath stinking of the salmon he had for lunch.

It is The Freudian Primal Trauma Douche that lurks beneath the surface polish of All-American veneer. The rotting scrote that underlies even those happy couples who make your fiancee feel like crap because the diamond wasn't big enough.

Do not be fooled by surface polish or cavity free teeth. Within even Ivory Snow lies a lurking source douche waiting to reveal itself for all to see in its skeezy, creepy-ass glory.

Or am I reading too much into a nasty old dude crowding into a pic?

In honor of the great trainwreck Lindsey Lohan, the future ex-Mrs. DB1, here's a Lohan type Hottie looking all sorts of bubble yum hot to keep us warm on a Thursday. Of course she's embracing two knobs right on the gaybag/stubblebag border known as Scroatia.

Heck, for all I can tell, that is The Lohan.

But whether its her, or one of her baby friends, either way I'll still be staring at a computer screen. So does it really matter if it's Lohan or Lohan-clone? All I know is these smug, stubbley tools need that paperback copy of "I'm a Douchebag, You're a Douchebag" shoved up their collective asses before Lohan Hottie realizes what she's embracing.

Come to me, Lohan. We will drink papaya juice and chant the Zoastrian prayer for the Sun while I rub linseed oil on your thighs.

This hottie really gets around. As to Kissy McLeguizamo, no you ain't Spanish Elvis. Get your hands off my butterfly before I set your chest pubes on fire with a lighter and a can of Raid.

I do have to give it up to this pud for synchronizing his shirt's bead pattern with his date's costume. That's actually too creative for a 'bag. So we'll take back one point. Then deduct another fifteen for that facial expression. Nice kiss, purple lips.

As to that last pic's 'bag status, read the fine print, people. Read the fine print.

Here's another pic I'm having a hard time deciding on 'bag status...

Just testing to see if you were awake.

Yup, this is the legendary White Chocolate, once again performing his douchemagic on a fully Stage IV Bleethed/Griecoed long lost hottie. Pity her. There is no coming back.

Cig behind ear is a classic. W.C's ass-chin is also pretty phenomenal. Aqua Blue tie and that mystifying facial pube-cut definitely earn W.C. a display in a corner of the Hall o' Scrote.

I was curious to see if Grizzly Adams facial hair would be enough to render a dude at least a level-one 'Bag status, but agree with consensus that Midwest Student Beard Boy was not a 'bag.

Here's another stumper. Note the dual collar shirts, and general douchey expression. But without clear signs of 'baggitude, this pud is a hard nut to quantify.

What say you? 'Bag or not a 'Bag?

As to Subcontinent Hottie, mmm... babaganoush...

Uhm. Yeah.

At what point does dressing up as a mock douche become actual douche?

Guess there was never any doubt. You put two little pink balls of fluff and a raging pimple of scrote in a 70s sauna, and the urge to kill is overwhelming.

It's gonna be a brutal HCwD of the Month douche-off next week. All sorts of hair gel flying, bling swinging, sunglass breaking, smirking, douchitude and hotness all spinning around a giant existential blender that makes you question God, morality and whether Fig Newtons are better than Oreos or not. I say yes.

As to the breakdown, while The 'Bagsgiver ran away with things, there was certainly some love (and by "love" I mean spew) thrown at Doucherole and Tree. As Mitch Meats put it:

Obviously, #1 wins hands-down this week and probably HCwDotY, if there is one. This is mainly based on the juggernaut strength of the hotties in question. Even though you cannot see their faces, they are clearly keen on running around naked, which makes them both stars in my book. It's as if the DB in question is studying the natives of some far-off, third-world, wood-panelled civilization of sluttery. However, 'Bagsigiving/Doucherole's pose in #3 is infinitely more offensive because you can actually see his eyes looking at you and the tongue which he is presumably going to be be plunging into that little morsel later this evening.

It's as if he is mocking my soul.

As to my love for Tree's hottie (and I do love her), Danny Bonnadouchey did some investigative work that puts us all to shame:

#2 gets my vote. I am ashamed of all you long time bag-bashers, but especially you, DB1. How can you claim to be in love with this girl, when you did not even recognize her from her previous appearance on this site, early in its lifeline? I knew I had seen this beauty somewhere before, so I did a little digging through the archives, or "douchecives". Stumbling through past classics like "Giraffe Bag", I found my prey in the May 2006 archives. Might I refer you to "The Da Douchey Code"? That's right my friends, I went old school on you all. She is the winner.

As to the hottie that I do love, and her 'bag, Tree, mickey o'douche sees the merit of the covert HCwD pic. One that's not as overtly painful as something like 'Bagsgiver, yet creeps up on you over repeated viewings until you want to grab a golf club and Jack Nicholson someone's car:

I'll say this about #2, he's a strong, very strong crypto douche, even leaving aside the sweetest chica by his side. (Worst part, she actually likes him -- she's contorting both her hands just so she can touch his two-tube gelled up hair and orangutan hairy arms (is it just me, or did he gel that fur on his forearms?)). I mean, good god, look how long his face is - it's like one of the kennedy's faces were made of silly putty and someone just started pulling on the chin.

bad news, DB1, I'm going over to the dark side. If las chicas bonitas rain down on scuzzbuckets such as these, I'm signing up for the graduate school at Douchebag U. (first month's curriculum will answer questions such as these: Gel 101: "is there such thing as too much gel," to "is there any part of the body that should not be gelled" to the really tricky ones -- "if I'm running out of gel, should I cancel my evening plans to restock at walgreen's, or can I skip gelling the pubes?"; Synthetic Fabrics for Idiots: "if it aint made of petroleum, it's not worth having in the closet"); Bling for Dings: "Sources for convincing fake gold?" "Neck strengthening exercises to support 15 lbs. of chains while dancing to house music?" "gestures that won't trigger dreaded chain-whiplash." Damn these scrotes, I'm hereby giving away all my natural fibers to charity, and getting me some polyesters and learning the answer to the ultimate douche conundrum: "is it better to throw down hand gesture #3b or to help cover up hotties' breasts for them?" Damn you, #1.

Hmmm... "Douchebag U." I like it. Maybe we should set up a Learning Annex course.

But for this week, it was The 'Bagsgiver in a runaway. As greekbag puts it, this one was never in doubt:

wow this is a landslide of epic proportions. And I hate to be the conformist, but Bagsgiver is taking this one down. Even though its hard to look away from my four best friends in that picture, one is easily repulsed when they contemplate Porcupine Bag. This has to be one of the more impressive gel jobs I have seen a douchebag put together on this site. But what really gets me is the sunglasses + robe combination. What, is it too sunny in that sauna? However, lets not lie to ourselves. I mean, hes bad, but weve seen worse. Heck, to reference the fine investigative work of scrote m. walsh, this pic is not even his worst display of douchebaggery, as it is truly realized in doucherole. Its the hotties that put #1 on top this week.

And douche t. bagwell hypothesizes on #1's backstory with all sorts of wrongness:

This photo raises all kinds of questions in me, like I'm doing an anthropological study on an alien species. Who the hell took this photo??? Is it Bag Part Deux, or Hottie Number Three? And when Black Panties Hottie withdraws her face from contact with Bagsgiver's head, does wiping the gel off to preserve her excellent complexion require a moist towel, or can it be done with garden variety napkin?

While #2 does feature a vicious combination of hotness and douchery, only #1 causes me to doubt Darwin's theory of evolution.

It hurts. It hurts because it's true.

It's a runaway doucheslide for HCwDotW.... So many hilarous comments in the comments section, I want to cut and paste a few. So first thing's first. Shower, scope to get the taste of Patron tequila out of my mouth, and a nice bowl of mini-wheats...

Middle finger or gesture to his sweat stain? I can't tell if that flag's Irish or Italian, but if I was either I'd want to kick this pud's ass back to Douchistan.

As to "Moi," voulez vous something or other.

Your shoulder makes me want to yodel.

PIC DELETED
Either this is the Halloween performance of Douche-Neo and Fifth Element Russian Model Chick, or I just stumbled into a pic of the cast party for the off-Broadway smash, "Wiggas and Hoes: The Musical."

On an unrelated note, we have breaking news here at HCwD: Fellow 'bag hunter, Douchebag OUT! has announced his candidacy for the 2008 Presidential Race running on the platform that "All MILFS will be required by law to wear lace tops." Normally I'm not into the single-issue candidate, but DB-Out, you got my vote.

Little douche, little douche let me in...

Not by the hair of my chinny chins chins...

Pudwacker's 70s Retro-Bag look doesn't remotely hide his encroaching middle aged "Scarsdale Suburbanite Clinging to Fading Youth" vibe.

Give it up, Puddy. Take off the test pattern shirt, shave the Elvis 'burns, pump out two annoying kids you can wander around a CostCo with on weekends and go and buy a Chevy. In the parlance of Boston-speak, it's OVAH.

Hotties in pink lace is simply cruel.

So what's the verdict on the lanky pud in the middle?

Does Grizzley Adams beard equate to scrote? Or just scrub?

This'll be the final round before the HCwDotM contest next week, and it seems like consensus is that Bagsgiving is running away with the prize. Even so, lets be fair and take a vote. I'm not sold that Turkey Doucherole is the same guy but he may well be. However a HCwD pic operates in its own reality. Whether or not the same person is in each pic is less important than the ability for the given pic to cause you to want to smash your head into a lamp-post until it looks like Ivan Drago at the end of "Rocky IV." (speaking of which, Rocky IV. I'm there).

So have at it folks. Which pic makes you want to Terri Schiavo yourself?

HCwD #1: The 'Bagsgiver

Not much to add to the genius of this pic. Only my overt joy that a hottie this stripped down is still concerned about "covering" herself.

Honey, it's too late, baby, it's too late...








HCwD of the Week #2: Tree

There's an understated HCwD genius to this pic that's growing on me every time I look at it. This is like one of those true rager pics. Just so completely unfair, and that brunette is so mind explodingly chocolate strawberry delicious that I want to gorge on Chips Ahoy/Night Train milkshakes until I die.

I love her.

Don't start. This time I mean it.


HCwD of the Week #3: Turkey Doucherole

Same 'bag in 'Bagsgiving? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, Jimmy Kimmel should pack him up in that crate with Kevin Federline and drop his ass in the Indian Ocean.

Pinky ring means we roll a +2 20 sided die for damages.




So have at it folks. Who's the final entry in this go-round?

Also forgot to mention, anyone who donated some cash to the DB1 Night Train Fund, drop me a line and get a special emailed JPG of the legendary "Shocker" pic that was the first truly great HCwD find on this site (since taken down). It's the least I can do to thank you guys who kicked a little cash in to help keep the site going. If anyone else wants to help out, the donate button is over there on the left.

And with that being said, vote away fellow 'bags, hotties and 'bag hunters. Put your vote in the comments thread.

(sung to the tune "Close To You")

Why does douche, suddenly appear
Every time, cleavite's near?
Unlike me, they long to Bleeth
Close to douche.

Why does scrote, fall down from the sky
Every time, boobs walk by?
Unlike me, they long to Bleeth,
Close to douche.

On the day that douche was born,
The angels got together,
And decided to create a greasy tool,
So they sprinkled slimy gel in his hair of crust,
And tongue gestures in his mouth of scrote...

That is why, all the hotties in town,
Follow douche, all around.
Unlike me, they long to Bleeth,
Close to douche...

Unlike me (Unlike me)
They long to Bleeth,
Close to douche...

Wahhhhhhhhhhh, close to douche....
Wahhhhhhhhhhh, close to douche....
Hahhhhhhhhhhh, close to douche....
Lahhhhhhhhhhh, close to douche....

Thank you... thank you...

It was a shortened week, but a HCwD of the week will come shortly.... any requests?

A little known historical fact: When physicist Robert Oppenheimer and the rest of the team working on the Manhattan Project were testing the first atomic bomb in Nevada in the early 1940s, reports described the first blast as taking on an almost human shape.

Reports were sketchy, but first person accounts swear that in that blast, the visage of a face could be seen.

Here's a quote from Oppenheimer's journal on that fateful day:

"Today we tested the first blast. The power was beyond our imaginations. Although I witnessed the event from over a mile away, I could swear I saw the contours of a face in the fiery explosion. The pink base resembled a person's shirt. And the tip of the mushroom cloud took on the round shape of a young man's head. A giant douchebaggey face. Oily, with spikey hair and a smug expression. I felt God himself was warning me. The power of this new weapon was as destructive as that of the douchebag." -- Robert Oppenheimer, May, 1942.

Let us consider how prophetic Oppenheimer's words were, then and now.

If you've ever wondered what it would look like if a hottie and a tree got romantically involved (and I know you have), here's proof positive that human-elm cohabitation does indeed exist.

The oily bark tree is renouned for producing rubber, balsam wood, and of course, douchebaggery.

I would chainsaw this tree with a rusty blade, then wood-carve him into a doorstop.

Sultry hottie can be my Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader any day of the week. Even if she's lost in the proverbial douche wilderness, which rends my psychic garments in many cosmic ways.

I loved Daniel Douche Lewis in "My Left Scrote." His performance as a greased up bling wearing ball of scumbaggery was a tragic performance and well deserving of the Oscar.

Here's Douche Lewis in his latest role, that of "PooBag Who Gives DB1 a Headache on a Saturday." I hope the Academy honors this latest achievement from one of the great douche artists.

I can't quite figure out what hottie's wearing. It's some bizarro early 80s shoulderpad dress-kini. With V.P.L. And sash.

I'd put lemon on her thighs and serve with a tasty tartar sauce.

You can almost see the transformation from hottie to Bleethed out Douchebaguette in front of your very eyes. Oily TongueScrote borders on that Twilight Zone edge between GayBag and NerdBag, a gray area of douchitude best left to the imagination.

Hottie's pouty lips are two pillows of soft candy goodness. I would bounce up and down on them in miniaturized form until Rick Moranis accidentally vacuums me up in a straight to video DVD release.

Yup, it's Thanksgiving Weekend. And the DB1 is stuffed.

Happy Bagsgiving, from all of us here at HCwD!!

Well it's just me, actually.

But I'm hittin' the Cranberry flavored Irish Rose, so it's all good.

Enjoy a turkey leg with a nice serving of gravy to honor all the hotties in the world who've escaped the clutches of douchebaggery.

And meditate over your stuffing and peas that there's still so much scrote to mock and hotties to save. Thanks to all the hilarious comments in the threads from the regulars, you guys keep me going. And our work has just begun...

To paraphrase Bill Maher, New Rule: If your cutie has to hold up your girly drink for you to drunkenly take a sip, you are a mini-douche even if you exhibit no outward signs of douchosity.

Then again, four day weekend. And the color of that drink is remarkably similar to the train. So maybe I'll just stare with lust at this slightly cross eyed doe.

1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Check the wrapper to see how much the turkey weighs and determine approximate cooking time. Remove the giblet bag and the neck from the turkey cavity. Wash the turkey inside and out and pat skin dry with paper towels. Be sure to clean off any excess hair grease or bling.

2. Remove sunglasses and douchebaggey shirt. Remove the hottie. She will be part of dessert.

3. Place turkey breast side up on a rack in a shallow (about 2 inches deep) roasting pan. Insert meat thermometer in thigh. Don't worry, turkey douche is used to this. Add 1/2 cup water to the bottom of pan, if desired.

3. Cover turkey loosely with a tent of heavy-duty aluminum foil. Roast the turkey until temperature in the innermost part of the thigh reaches 165°F as measured with a food thermometer. Check the tongue and the thickest part of the breast. You may choose to cook the turkey to higher temperatures. Cooking time will vary. For example, a 180 pound turkey will take 4 1/4 to 5 hours to cook, check the temperature on the thermometer after 4 1/4 hours.

4. Meanwhile, mix the stuffing or dressing. Place in a casserole and pop it into the oven during the last hour or so of roasting time.

5. Remove the foil tent after 1 to 1 1/2 hours of cooking time to brown the skin. Brush with vegetable oil to enhance browning, if desired.

7. Allow the turkey to set 20 to 30 minutes before carving to allow juices to saturate the meat evenly.

Note: Cooking times do vary. Why? There are many reasons - oven temperature may not be completely accurate, the turkey douchebag may be very cold or partially frozen, and/or the roasting pan may be too small which inhibits the flow of hair grease. The USDA highly recommends use of a meat thermometer in the turkey douche's thigh or ass to determine just what a total scrotebag he is.

It was a tight one but Elizabethtown 'Bag and this sultry ball of hot take the prize mainly on the strength of the uber-douche nipple display. Lets hope this scrote's Eurodouche. If he's American I'm defecting to Canada.

And what's up with that semi-collar? It's like some mutant offspring of the no-collar period in the mid 1990s and the big collar early 00s retro look. Yet it's neither. It's pure puke.

I love her.

I know I've said that before, but this time I mean it.

I'm surprised as I thought the strength of Librarian Hottie's absurd sexiness would've put Barbarino 'Bag over the top but nipple exposure apparently is overpowering in its douchitude. And I can see why. This skinny chested ball of wax deserves, if not physical abuse, than at least an angry ferret chewing on his nads.

Gonna be tough to see Bloom'Bag get much love (and by "love" I mean "puke) going against the other HCwDotW in next week's Douche-Off, but with that nip I wouldn't put it past him.

EDIT: Wow, Bloom'Bag is RichBag below. I didn't recognize him with his nipple covered.

Run Hottie!! He's sucking your brains out with his zombie douche powers!!!

Mmm... pokey boobie.

Oh lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy....

looking again at the pic

Oh lordy lordy lordy lordy lordy....

Perhaps the worst kind of douchebag is the RichBag. Some oiled up Eurotrash trustafarian who adopts the douche persona as his means of "dressing down." Of being "one of the scrote."

Eurotrash wank here is probably named Venicio or Pietro and rented out the suite at the Wynn for the weekend so he can charm Mary Sue Ellen with his accented, cologned up douche charm.

That's it. To protest, I'm giving up Mediterranean food for at least a week. No more grape leaves and rice.

Man, this is really starting to bug me:

Hey the second picture down from rehab is a picture of me and XXXX from
NapkinNights, I would like it removed

Thank you
XXXX

Geez, you'd think getting ragged on for looking like a douchebag on an internet site wouldn't be such a problem for some people. Sheesh.

Still got it, Uncle Rico... still got it.

PIC DELETED
Looks like another pic from the DNA filled cloudy waters of the Rehabbers Brunch at the Hard Rock in Vegas. Yup, the same Heart of Darkness river I journed up back in August.

In fact I feel like these two have been featured before on the site. Either that or all the muscle douches from the Hard Rock semen pool are starting to run together.

That place is like douche Nirvana. To paraphrase Ferris, if you have the means I highly recommend you check it out.

The only thing better than kicking back with a Newcastle after a long day of work is seeing a wooly dreadlocked douche macking on five feet two inches of pure cheerleader goodness.

This medieval crusader from the CapitolOne commercials takes his 'baggery to next-level incoherence through the perfectly placed lip-ring.

A word to the wise: If you're going to spot a wigga rasta unwashed feral look when hitting on the ladies, adding the lip-ring will blow the deal. You can't simultaneously sport the unkept 1970s Brazilian Soccer Team look AND a hipster lip-ring and have any hope of scoring with a hot piece of sex goodness.

It is at this point that DB1 realizes that Blondbacca has, in fact, snared a sexy young thing with a drool inducing collar bone.

Uhm...

DB1 is now intravenously adminstering shots of Jaeger.

Blondbacca says, "Vote for HCwD of the Week!"

And yes, the DB1 is aware that Blondbacca has made a previous appearance on this site, but he is way too hung over to go back and find it.

Not sure why these three are "SandBags." Maybe I'm running out of 'bag puns. Maybe they make me want to sandpaper my eyeballs out. Some of these aren't as truly grease drippingly scrotey a selection of douchitude as last week with White Chocolate and Socrates Douche, but still some choice douchebaggery and seriously smoking hotties to choose from this week. So without further ado, lets get to the 'baggery.

HCwD of the Week #1: Barbarino 'Bag

The urge to punt this scrote in the nads is positively transfixing. I can think of nothing else. Well, except my deep and abiding love for this candy corn Halloween treat. So clean. So perky.

I love her.

I know I've said that before. I know you think I fall in and out of love faster than a hard up Whitney Houston trying to score smack in Vegas. I know I've said it before about other hotties.

But this one is special. And she's been mauled by one of the extras from "Rumblefish." Whether this pud's real name is Billy, Barry or Bobby, I want to roll him up in a rug and dump him in the east river.

Damn this pic makes me mad.

Moving on:

HCwD of the Week #2: Alice and the Mad Hatter


This one really just kinda sorta speaks volumes without my having to say anything extra, don't it?

Well if I gotta say something, it's simply that I'd like to pluck out Mad Hatter's 'stache bit by bit with a rusty tweasers. Anyone who fondles a cutie like that while wearing the Kill Bill outfit deserves a beating. The Elvis glasses are what knocked this 'bag into the finalist category.

Not to mention the hotness of Alice here. I like.

HCwD #3: Bloom 'Bag and the Striped Raven

This is one of those rare HCwD pics where the strength of the hottie helps elevate it to the final round. Not to say Orlando Bloom'Bag here isn't the embodiment of all that is greasy wrong with culture and society in today's post-douchic world.

She is so damn fine. I know I said I was in love a few minutes ago. But now I'm really in love.

But first I would set a hungry ferret at work taking care of that boney scrod so I could get Striped Raven all by lonesome.


Special shout-out to Tux Scrote, and FootBag, both of whom just missed the cut. So what say you, people? Who's our 'bag of the week? As always, vote in the comments thread.

can you please remove my picture from your website.

I want to seperate these two with a fire hose. Sweaty, saggy, Oldie McGrease, fondling this petite, enhanced, Griecoed out barbie doll simply offends the Lords of Kobol.

There is no coming back for inflato-raft Barbie here. Prolonged exposure to a Source-Douche has rendered into a state of pure, cooked, 100% Bleeth. All that's missing is the mug shot.

Damn, this pic is too much for DB1 on a Sunday. That's what I get for eating way too much pizza after seeing "Casino Royale" last night. Megods, I would set my eyebrows on fire just for the chance to floss Eva Green's cat's teeth.

I can't tell how hot this pimped out hottie is, but any half-drunk college chick with a red feather boa makes me happy in the happy place where happiness happys the happy.

As to Fish Boy douchebag, the signs are subtle but 'bag status is achieved through 'bag-face.

Tell me you don't want to dunk that face into a tub full of pirhannas.

One pic of a douchey style HCwD formation is simply a travesty. Two is an epidemic. Douchey doggie slapping is sweeping the 'bag populace like a sub-strain virus. Horse 'Bag here only makes it worse with his greasy head and shiney low cut blowse.

It ain't the most flattering pic for blondie, but I'd still tiptoe through the tulips to fill out her W4 tax forms in March.

The Jeans miniskirt is definitely a DB1 fave these days. And those legs. Mein gott. Fantastic.

Just wanted to give a shout-out special thanks to those of you who donated to help keep the site going. Every little bit is appreciated to defray the costs of the site, even five bucks.

I'm putting the donate button over to the left. No, on the other side of this terrifying heaping pile of douche.

To the vast majority who ignored the pledge drive, believe me I understand. Nothing's 'baggier than some douchebag with a website asking for cash. However, alls I ask is that if you enjoy coming to the site and appreciate all the HCwD hunting your humble narrator has performed, throw a few bucks my way. Paypal keeps you anonymous and you can donate by credit card without registering a PayPal account, and all that good stuff.

So help a douchebag out when you get a chance. It's appreciated. There's plenty more hair gelled out Jesus blinged douchebags who deserve our mocking and contempt. Help keep our 'bag hunting going by kicking in a Night Train donation or two. If you don't and you end up seeing your ex getting fondled by some greased up Jersey scrote on the site, well, it's karma baby. Karma.

And if you don't, I'm going to leave this pic up all weekend.

Arrrr! Matey of Scrote,
Your douche ship sets sail anon.
Cleavite down below.

EDIT: boingy in the comments section, chimes in:

hector the pirate
sailed the seven seas of scrote
for second rate trim

Here's another dude who isn't particularly douchebaggy and could easily kick my ass while sipping a port wine. However busting 'Bag Hand Gesture #13 is enough to give me an excuse to post the finest lithe body this side of Anime.

I would manga her Utena. I would Star Blazers her Mononoke. She can gasp with disturbingly wide eyed shock while brandishing a sword while effeminate looking Japanese men morph into spirit creatures. I would then jump through the air, holding a perfectly still pose with three beads of sweat on my head, before rescuing her by fighting off an enormous tendriled octopus. She would fall into my arms with the cry of a little school girl, and then defend me from spirit bullets with her metal wrist bracelets.

Ahh... Anime Girl. I would enjoy an extra six orders at Matsuhitsa while toasting sake to your supple perfection.

I'd line this footbag up for a forty two yard field goal then plant one right in that tonguey face.

The 'Bag is up... and he's no good!...

As to the euro-hotties, I would perform intricate T.O. touchdown dances while humming the Monday Night Football theme just to walk the streets of Amsterdam with their older sisters. I would drink Heineken and paint Van Gogh inspired art merely to trade in Euro-Dollars they once fondled.

Yes. It's Friday morning. And the DB1 is drunk.

I don't know how douchey this generic blob of putz is. Probably not enough to qualify him for 'bag status. Although that necklace does suggest scrote tendencies.

But I do know one thing.

I would order the prime rib at Morton's with this blond vision, then make vapid and shallow jokes about how long it's taking Crate and Barrel to deliver our new sofa. We would discuss the weather and our trip to Barbados in December while we sip a twenty two dollar per glass Pinot Noir. Afterwards, back at home in Bel Air, we would make silent love in the dark while I worried about my stocks.

Mad Hatter: Why is a douchebag like a writing desk?

Alice: Riddles? Now let me see... why is a douchebag like a writing desk?

Mad Hatter: I beg your pardon?

Alice: Why is a douchebag like a writing desk?

Mad Hatter: Why is a what?

March Hare: Careful, she's stark ravin' mad!

Alice: But it's your silly riddle. You just said...

Mad Hatter: Easy, don't get excited!

March Hare: How about a nice cup of long island iced tea?

Alice: "Have a cup of long island iced tea," indeed! Well I'm sorry, but I just haven't the time, Douchebag!

So wrong.

So pink.

So douchebaggy.

It hurts mein eyes.

Well folks, it's time for the DB1 to come hat in hand to my fellow hotties, 'bags and 'bag hunters and ask for a donation.

If you've been enjoying the God's Work we do here exposing the unholy douchitude of total scrotes and the hotties who love them, now's the time to cough up some cash, moolah, dough and help support the site and buy douchebag1 a bottle of Night Train or two.

Kickin' my lazy sorry ass a ten or a twenty would go a long ways to keeping this site ad-free. So lets keep those HCwD combo pics flowing that make all of our days a little more enjoyable when we get to rank on the scrote.

So if you're a long time fan or just a recent visitor and have enjoyed the site and had a good laugh, don't be a cheap-ass scrote like Glinty or White Chocolate. Cough up some coin so we can keep this site going strong, ad free, and fully hot chicked and douchebagged out. Here's the PayPal donate button.

Don't wait for the next 'bag to kick in. Pull your share. And help a douchebag out.

Not sure who this horse chinned douchebag following Pam Anderson is, and while I don't normally post celeb HCwDs, this one was too good to pass up. This scrote is actually making 'Bag Hand Gesture #76 without apparently realizing it. I could land a MiG on that jaw line.

Mmm... I'd like to put her in my marriage sack.

Thanks to The Superficial for unwittingly let me use this pic. No thanks to Kid Rock for soiling the once hot PaMELa with his demon seed.

PIC DELETED
I've never been quite clear on why balding men think growing facial pubes will somehow balance the hair equation. There is, however, a unique way to distract from one's baldness.

Wear snorkeling goggles.

And a gas station attendant hipster shirt.

In a club. With a girl who has "Baby Shake" written across her rack.

This pic doesn't make sense on any level. Add some ants crawling up his nose and it's a lesser known Dali.

If the radiance of a thousand suns
Were to burst at once into the sky,
That would be like the splendor of the Mighty Scrote...
I am become Douche,
The shatterer of Worlds.

--The Bhagavad-Gita

(Yes, that's Socrates Douche)

In a stunning shocker upset and thanks to a late surge of spewing in his direction, Socrates Douche suprised White Chocolate for a solid win and entry into next month's HCwD of the Month. It's gonna be fun seeing this oily scrote go up against Pat. As born to be bag puts it:

The name Socrates used to make me think of higher learning and togas and all things good in the universe....... Now it makes me think of a sweaty ballsack. I have a strong feeling that Justin Timberdouche here just got done wooing these hotties with his moves on the dance floor. Nothing worse than oily Jesus bling flying around while a scrote does the running man.
The win goes to #3.

Another vote for #3 comes from Art of the Douche:

The tinted shades, the gelled/spiked hair, the black wifebeater, the bling, the oil (dear lord, the oil) and the poorly executed orange tan -- pure scrote brilliance. He doesn't at all seem to care that he has cultivated a look that makes him resemble a butchier Rosie O'Donnell after gastric bypass surgery.

Ouch. Going for the Rosie O'Donnell smackdown. And as lower case bag sums it up:


BUT - WOW - Socrates douche has enough grease to reflect light - EVEN ON HIS CHEEKS.

that says it all.

Indeed it does, lcb. Indeed it does.

However White Chocolate's unholy douchitude will live on in many hearts for his overwhelming douchosity. As the ever-present anonymous put it:

its #1 without a douching doubt. metal-mouth gives me nightmares on so many levels it should be illegal. that slime face. the trophy on his teeth. the 17 pound bling in the ear. the matching 10 degree douche-inspiring matching blue hat. the Yankees suck by the way.

and the topper. those perky two actually touching his white collared, bleeth-opening chest. i actually cant keep talking.. i think im giving myself diarrhea im so upset.

While many disqualified Test Pattern 'Bag for the obvious paid state of his hottie, not everyone ruled that as a disqualifier for HCwDotW status. Seemingly distracted by the intoxicating derriere in #2, dooouche_head explains why:

My vote this week if for #2, "Test Pattern Putz". The smug look on his face and the fact that he's all over the sweet ass on that cute little chicka makes me want to roll over and die, after I kick his ass from here to Timbuktu!

Me too, brotha. Me too.

So lets applaud the Socratic debate that elevates S.D. into next month's face-off. Great comments as always. I think we've all earned a chocodile for our work. I know I have. Mmm... chocodiles. Like twinkies, only with chocolate on them...

This one hurts. This one took me down.

I was staggering around, bloodied but unbowed. Sexy Librarian being pawed by Barbarino 'Bag had knocked me around, but I was still on my feet.

Herpes Soup was like an upper-cut to the jaw but I didn't go down.

Bloom 'Bag knocked me against the ropes, but I fought on.

But Franco 'Bag is too much. Tux Scrote pawing this sexy, curvy ball of sunshine while making that douche smirk, and I'm flat on the canvas wondering where my mouthpiece went.

Not even a cup of 'Train can cure this one. This one's too much for my fragile psyche to absorb.

Nope, it's time to break out the hard stuff to cure this infection of HCwD madness.

Yup, it's time for HoHo pudding.