Sunday, November 30, 2008
Ask DB1: The Pictorial 'Bag
---DB1-
A question for you...
In an age of spiritual, moral, and fashion uncertainty, one thing remains constant: digital cameras and their fascinating ability to allow you to see what the hell you look like in any and all given pictures mere seconds after they are taken.
With that in mind, would your expert opinion lead you to conclude that the 'bags race back and forth like orange lightning between the camera and pose in order to achieve maximum captured douchocity? That they have practiced the pose enough times in the mirror to have perfected it, or that their douchi is so centered that they simply radiate the exact amount needed in any and all photographs?
Thank you for your consideration on this perplexing topic.
- J.P.
----
As Baudrillard notes, the spectacle of the digital age has untethered identity by supplanting the real with simulacra.
Our notion of the self fractures into spectral masks of pixelated projection. This primal projection of the psyche predates our technological simulation, as Lacan notes. Seeing ourselves through the eyes of the "other" simply finds amplification in the Facebook/MySpace image race. Our swirling feedback loop of projections upon projections becomes a funhouse mirror of refracted and fractured identities, always rooted in notions of identity, but given room to overwhelm in the media age.
As such, these images become extensions of our corporeal touch. We rescramble spatiality to form kinetic sub-space where we reform as culturally coded and branded entertainment specters. This form of cultural currency as potent as anything Bourdieu described within the social spheres. A radical alterity of self through the prism of the Apple/PC proto-gender binary.
In short, douchebags may be temporarily orange. But boobies are forever.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Celebrity HCwDB of the Month: Aniston and Mayerbag
Al CaDouche writes in with a late season celebrity HCwDB coupling that will vie for a 2008 Douchie next week:
----
DB1 -
I am an amatuer 'bag hunter here in Chicago. I have never written in nor sent in a photo because Chicago is filled with scrote and bleeth. I could go to Wrigleyville every night and expose the world of douche in this city... but frankly I don't have the time nor the SD memory card space required to chronicle the sheer numbers.
Anyway, I open the New York Times on Sunday and was smacked in the grill by a kissy faced Jennifer Aniston. Has hanging on John Mayer's taint turned her into Hollywood Fung? I say yes.
Al CaDouche
----
My distaste for the Mayerbag has a long history. You can read my rants on the douchosity of Mayer here and here.
Recently, Mayerbag penned some irono-cool letter to his ladiez, which you can read here.
Mayerdouche personifies "spectral douchosity." Unlike the clownish Kid Rock, scrotewankery radiates from Mayerbag's soul, not his cap tilt. Although he did get sleeve tatts. This tool is hanging on to his "above it all nonchalance" act, and failing miserably.
You suck, Mayerdouche. Dating Rachel won't save you from that basic truth.
Pass the Turkey
Samir, haven't you learned that you need to use both arms when lifting weights? Not just the left.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Mr. Bra!! Goes to Washington
It's a super-quiet Friday on the site, so in lieu of Friday Thoughts and Links, here's Hall of Scrote legend and 2008 HCwDB of the Year contender, Bra!!
Note Bra!! has ditched both his sexy sorority hotts and his tasty cola beverages, and is celebrating our Supreme Court in Washington, D.C. by busting the proverbial "move."
Bra!! celebrates historic Supreme Court decisions like Douchey vs. Ferguson (1967) and Broheim vs. Board of Education (1955). These important cases paved the way for scrotal choadwanks to pollute hotts free from government discrimination.
As Justice Louis Brandeis famously wrote in 1935: Though we may want to kick scrotal choadmunches in the kneecaps when they headlock a sweet innocent boobie hottie suckle thigh, to do so would rend the fabric of Constitutional rights this country was founded on. Word.
Bra!! is ready for the 2008 Douchie Awards.
They begin December 8th.
Ask DB1: Axe Deodorant
---
Hey DB1,
i have a question i was hoping you could answer for me. Now it is common knowledge that things like Axe and Tag are quite Douchetastic but the question I had for you.
What about Axe deodorant? I have friends who use Axe deodorant, and they are far from douche. I have even used it before. Does the label alone create douche-ocity?
I would really like to know. Thanks for the help and thanks for the site! Keep up the good work, and I'll continue hunting the illusive D-bags.
DanishDouche
----
Beware the Bodyspray.
If it can kill a 12 year old, then it's probably not a solid life choice.
Gobble Gobble
Today is "Black Friday." Apparently this is now a consumption holiday in which we ritualize a market system echo of yesterday's food gorge by spending money on as many discount consumer products as possible.
Within this massive one-day collective purchasing power, we eroticize the acquisition of "product" as social act of self-inscription within larger structures of collective meaning.
But I will not participate in a ritual of spending money. Instead I will mock douches and lust after boobie hotties.
Here goes:
Nice star tats, Carlos Santana's Bodyguard.
Boobies.
Friday Haiku
Post turkey headache,
Hungover. Can only take,
stage-1 douche/hott pair.
Red cup, bikinis,
and fauxhawked douchebags don't mix,
except at parties.
-- Don't wheeze the douche!
Perky co-ed hott
Should be experimenting
But not with this choad
-- Anonymous
"Wow, what's with your hair?
It's standing at attention"
"That means I like you!"
-- Anonymous
It's the third Darren
Magic doesn't twitch her nose
But his poo smell does
-- DarkSock
My drink's spiked with X!
You wanna hit of this, babe?
Hey, my shorts threw up!!!
-- Anonymous
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving
May all your choadwanks be stuffed, and may all your hotts be Elizabeth Banks.
From all of us here at HCwDB, Happy Thanksgiving.
And by all of us, I mean me. Pass the damn stuffing.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Dung
As we head into Thanksgiving, I thought we should collectively contemplate the Dungbag.
Not to be confused with Fung, Dung is that sneaky type of stage 1 or stage 2 'bag. The type without a job who wears guyliner into the bar where he works and reads emo books by candlelight. The type whose pasty ass and stupid pickup lines we all laugh at.
Until he snags Rachel.
The hott of hotts you knew in college. Sweet and funny and making a great salary as a junior executive. The type who cries at Pixar films and laughs at your jokes.
Yet somehow she's dating Dung.
And the world is shaken off-kilter by the smell of uberpoo-osity once again.
Wednesday Limerick
Thanksgiving is just around the corner,
As Tim the Choadstool makes the "Double Horner,"
Kylie Minogue Hott endures,
Sweaty Tim's got clogged pores,
And smells like football's Kurt Warner.
Ask DB1: "The Rockstar Leniency Rule"
----DB1 -
I've been using your blog for my own (and some of my friends', those who get it, anyway) quality entertainment for quite some time now. It's time to contribute something of value.
A friend of mine on FB commented on somebody's photo, and I stumbled on this while browsing the rest of the album. This guy is apparently in a "crunk" rock band. Not sure what that means, but I immediately think of garbage like Buckcherry. Either way, he deserves to be on your site, rock star or not.
And actually, I disagree with your tendency to go lightly on rock and celebri-douches. They deserve as much (if not many times more) bashing as the lesser 'bags who have yet to achieve infamy of any kind. I mean, if you're already famous and have the things you want in life, why be a douche? What purpose does it serve other than warn others to hold their breath as they pass you by? Unless the ways of douche are not merely a tool, but nothing less than the essence of existence for these types, and that, of course, makes celebri-douches all the more ridiculous and mockable.
A friend of mine on FB commented on somebody's photo, and I stumbled on this while browsing the rest of the album. This guy is apparently in a "crunk" rock band. Not sure what that means, but I immediately think of garbage like Buckcherry. Either way, he deserves to be on your site, rock star or not.
And actually, I disagree with your tendency to go lightly on rock and celebri-douches. They deserve as much (if not many times more) bashing as the lesser 'bags who have yet to achieve infamy of any kind. I mean, if you're already famous and have the things you want in life, why be a douche? What purpose does it serve other than warn others to hold their breath as they pass you by? Unless the ways of douche are not merely a tool, but nothing less than the essence of existence for these types, and that, of course, makes celebri-douches all the more ridiculous and mockable.
Cheers,
- BM
----
You bring up an important point, BM, so lets clarify.
The "Rockstar Leniency Rule" merely states that those who achieve a performative douchosity in service of spectacle as it relates to career are given wider latitude to be uberscrote.
This does not mean "exemption." Only leniency.
For example, Gene Simmons of KISS often acts douchey. But that's part of his shtick. Same for many W.W.E. wrestlers. If it's a form of kabuki -- douchery as element of the theatrical -- then we allow some leniency. Otherwise, rockstars can be just as choady as anyone else, and should be mocked accordingly.
----
You bring up an important point, BM, so lets clarify.
The "Rockstar Leniency Rule" merely states that those who achieve a performative douchosity in service of spectacle as it relates to career are given wider latitude to be uberscrote.
This does not mean "exemption." Only leniency.
For example, Gene Simmons of KISS often acts douchey. But that's part of his shtick. Same for many W.W.E. wrestlers. If it's a form of kabuki -- douchery as element of the theatrical -- then we allow some leniency. Otherwise, rockstars can be just as choady as anyone else, and should be mocked accordingly.
The Hardy Boy
Read the latest book in The Hardy Boy series as the Hardy Boy takes on his most challenging mystery yet, in The Case of the Drunken Bleeth.
Coming soon in paperback from Del Rey.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Touch of Grey
Let's see.
Standing near a pouty brunette lightly slapping a blonde's marshmallow.
Making what appears to be a "Half Shocker," or a retarded "Westside" hand gesture with one's hand.
Sneering at the camera and completely ignoring the marshmallow fondle taking place right in front of you.
Add 'em up, son, and you got the Greyson Twins of douchescrotery.
Wookin' Pa Nub
Nub's out of control!! He's snapped Blondie's neck and twisted her arm 180 degrees. Now he's got the suntan lotion and giant yellow lace-less Converse shoes...
Lookout!!
Jerz Ooze
Oh, New Jersey.
Is there nothing you can't poo?
Where's Waldouche? Beachbag Edition
Somewhere in the lineup of healthy, perky coeds at the beach, I've carefully hidden a puka shell wearing, chin pube growing, giant mandanna'd beachbag.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
HCwDB in the News
Filed in the "If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em" category, The Bellagio held a Hot Chicks with Douchebags book release party last week.
Props to The Bellagio and The Bank for knowing quality when they see it, and to the 'bags who showed up and signed copies. But mostly to the boobie hottie suckle thighs, for being curvy.
Sadly, the Elizabeth Banks clip where she plugged the site on The Tonight Show on Halloween was taken off Hulu. If anyone can find that clip, I'd pay good money to get it up on YouTube. Or, if not money, craven sexual favors involving hamsters, pre-chewed Bubble Yum and a confused Hasidic musician named "Avram" to supply Kazoo accompaniment.
And last week The Onion's A.V. Club reviewed my book in a feature on successful blogs-to-books. Loved the coverage, although they did criticize me for a premise that "wears thin over time." In related news, "Area Man" does something that signifies a small, sad existence, but it's funny in headline form because newspapers don't normally report on the banal. So it's funny. For ten years straight.
Yeah. I don't take kindly to criticism. Unless it's by a hott after coitus. At which point she could curse my ancestors in Swahili and I'd still be humming the theme song to The Beverly Hillbillies.
Yup. The DB1 is rambling.
Time for coffee.
Monday, November 24, 2008
The Earmunch
PIC DELETED
As with any polymorphous perversity, the sexual can be expanded conceptually; expanding into the realm of erotic massage, tantric breathing, and large rubber spandex pelican outfits greased up with Castor oil.
Ear munching combines two sensations. Touch. And grunt-snorting in one's ear at an extremely high decibel. This can be fun in private. But in public, it is the sign of an insecure puddle of yak poo.
Note to Earmunch: If you have to symbolically consume your date in public, it is a ritual gesture of insecurity. We eat that which we fear losing to our competition.
And by eat, I mean tasty Hostess Cupcakes.
As with any polymorphous perversity, the sexual can be expanded conceptually; expanding into the realm of erotic massage, tantric breathing, and large rubber spandex pelican outfits greased up with Castor oil.
Ear munching combines two sensations. Touch. And grunt-snorting in one's ear at an extremely high decibel. This can be fun in private. But in public, it is the sign of an insecure puddle of yak poo.
Note to Earmunch: If you have to symbolically consume your date in public, it is a ritual gesture of insecurity. We eat that which we fear losing to our competition.
And by eat, I mean tasty Hostess Cupcakes.
Poppa Squat
Proving that White Sox Caps and sleeveless vest/t-shirt combos go perfectly with chin pubes, Poppa Squat ignores the lithe blonde trailing behind him in favor of making the "growl face."
You bad, Poppa.
Now put down Ubiquitous Red Cup and back away from the blonde before someone gets hurt.
Caption This Pic
Jenny, Caroline and Susan smell bacon grease.
The Tatt Vortex
There's a certain type of tatted up muscle-t wearing uberbag type we call "The Tatt Vortex."
Like staring into the sun, or jamming raisins up one's nose then gargling with hot sauce, The Tatt Vortex causes Gregorian chanting Nuns in Northumbria to cup-slap autistic penguins.
And if that last sentence seemed a tad non-sequitorious, it's only because Nadja makes me want to glide on one knee down a paper mache protoplasmic jello boobie until I land in the upper thigh area, where I will nuzzle contentedly and wait out the long winter.
Sue-Ellen's Shiny Tool
God damn we need some eye candy after that Bello video.
Sue-Ellen has that delightful entitlement air of the aristocratic Brahmin waiting to inherit Mumsy's fortune while slumming with Ed The Garage Mechanic in the interim. She's the heir to 400 years of hegemony wrapped in Gabanna. Mexicans clear her plates.
Granted, Ed is only a minor tool. Barely a douche.
But I need some blonde white teeth with shoulder suckle worthy of a boobie hottie suckle thigh to cleanse the palette after Bello. And she is that shoulder suckle.
Being DJ Bellovich
You're invited. Step into the portal, enter the brain and see through the eyes of Bello. Aka Bobby Batz. DJ to the stars. MTV Real World hopeful.
Check. Check.
What's that? You never wondered what it's like to be Bello? Then click not, adventurer. For horrors await.
WARNING: Watching this video causes uncontrollable diarrhea in lab rats. It is the Ringu of douche videos. One week after watching, a phone will ring, and you will have an uncontrollable urge to step-dance.
WARNING #2: No, I'm serious. Watch this at your own risk.
WARNING #3: As with most Bello videos, there are no hotts.
WARNING #4: There is a surprise ending. It is uber-poo.
WARNING #5: If you complain after viewing that you're now sterile, hate life and beat up a small orphan boy on the streets of Bangledesh as a result of subsequent video-rage, HCwDB reminds you that you were warned.
WARNING #6: No seriously. It's that bad.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Brothabag Leon Sunday
HCwDB legend, Brothabag Leon, enjoys his Sunday with a paisley mandana, a yellow Ed Hardy shirt, a sad looking mocha hott, and slammin' isotope sideburns.
You go with your bad self, B.L. You're like the pumped up Pop-Tart toaster strudel of cultural invalidation.
The latest cut from "Some Group You've Never Heard of, and Will Never Hear of"
Lets get freaky now?
How about lets learn that the flange on the voice gimmick began and ended with that annoying Cher song.
You tools are up way past your bedtime. How's about returning daddy's car, dropping the sampler and backing slowly away from it before some homies show up and steal your 7-11 gift cards.
Nice appearance of Ubiquitous Red Cup, though.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Rub a Nub Nub
Total douche in the tub.
The Nubster is getting bolder by the hour. But at least he's switched from Mountain Dew jammies to a free Heineken t-shirt.
Broheim!! The sweatband goes above the eyebrows. Not on them.
Saturday Nub
Emerging from his "Where's Waldouche?" hiddenness, Nub makes his move...
EDIT: In the comments threads, Frodouche Baggins finds the stylin' source of Nub's threads.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Fung Friday
Another Friday afternoon. I sit and sip my plastic cup of Night Train, and down another HoHo, and contemplate the singularity that is the Oompa Prompa we call Fung.
Only Fung and DJ Bello may appear on this site without hot chick as counterbalance. Because they are too hilarious not to.
Fung is both Shakesperean and Biblical. By which I mean his iconographic legend is a grand tragedy buried within a narrative we can only glimpse in episodic parable.
But somewhere out there, there are the Douche Sea Scrolls. Once decoded by scholars, the D.S.S. will fill in the missing parts in the story of Fung.
And by missing parts, I mean... nah, that's too easy.
Random links as I clean out the pixel closet:
2007 Douchebag of the Month winner, Mystery, is more like a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in fart.
Michael Godard. The pooiest artist since Jasper Johns. Yeah, I'm lookin' at you, Jasper Johns.
He Just Bangs Bitches and Blows his Hair, then Makes the Kissy Lips. Facebook status: "I don't just like Double D's I endorse it."
Tag Bodyspray now has a record label. But have they signed Buckcherry yet?
The MP3 Skull Belt. Douchey? Nerdy? Somewhat hilarious?
Peyton List may be dating a slice of scrotal taint, but secretly she wants to tap-dance on my lower pelvis area wearing only a Robin Hood outfit, stiletto heels and nursing a sickly marsupial she rescued while on vacation in the Australian outback.
The Cat Parable
You know when your cat sneaks into your studio and eats your giant silk-screened Rorschach Test inspired ink blot canvasses, then eats some cat food, then wanders outside and throws up on a girl who looks like Scarlett Johansson?
No? Well now you do.
That being said, this dude almost earns a nottadouche for lack of poseur "gangsta" demeanor. No hand gestures. Hair generally under control.
What say you? Should we forgive the tattedness and give the dude a pass?
Friday Tonguedouche
Here's a little rank spew of Tonguedouche cohabitating in land of the four delicious, tasty, and bouncy Palm Frond Hotts to fire you up on a Friday.
Displaying the rare and unholy "Double Thumbs Up + Tongue" move, this Tonguedouche laughs in the face of a Godless universe.
He argues for a paradigm that allows Tonguescrote existence to deny all of human achievement in one spittle filled gesture of poo.
If this doesn't get our collective heads to sever in half, 13 Ghosts style, then I don't know what will.
Where's Waldouche? Nub Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of sultry, tasty Pink Sorority Champagne Hotts, I've carefully hidden a Nub.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Friday Haiku
Ed Hardy's Turd Squat,
Grabs lime green Hoochie Hotma,
Who just quit Denny's.
After school lets out
Shop teacher dresses up "cool"
Tries to lathe some skanks
-- Mr. White
takes short bus to club,
not a pro like donkey douche,
nice toeless kneesocks.
- 'bag lanta
Now that it's harvest
Let's turn this 'bag upside down
And use for a plow.
-- Crucial Head
his neck has vanished
replaced by excessive chin
she is soylent green
-- paper or plastic?
It took him all day
To blow up his new sex doll
He still got turned down
- plinky
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Snickers McFlurry
----Hi DB1,
This summer on the way to Lake Elsinore to wakeboard (a hotbed for bag spotting in and of itself) we stopped at McDonalds to drown our hangovers in french fry & hashbrown oil. I noticed an advertisement for the "Snickers McFlurry."
At first, I thought it sounded like something a pornstar would name his pet. Upon further consideration, I think it is a good name for a douchebag. I'm picturing some kind of ski scrote or something, wearing ironic neon and a headband? You're the brains behind this operation, what do you think?
Ciao,
Bad Kitty
Newport Beach
----
Here you go. One HCwDB Snickers McFlurry.
To go.
The Douchestral Cycle II
From D.C.'s MySpace page:
----
"Well...well..well... the pictures on this page.. just about sum it up for my intrests..............there is a reason that my ancestors wrote the kama sutra.......ha ha ha...for those of you that are did not get it....going out..having fun...the pursuit of life....liberty and fun.......thats my intrests."
----
As Homi Bhabha observes, Western frameworks of colonialism fractured notions of the self among the occupied, yet maintained a complexity of interplay outside of reductive binaries. This cultural hierarchy utilized narratives to impose erasure, but also opened space for subaltern ideological challenge.
Or, to put it another way, his douchitude is the active response of reclaimation of the self utilizing the douchal tropes of the "other."
That being said, even Gandhi knows this guy is a huge water sack of poo.
The Blob II: Jerz Ooze
I always had a huge thing for actress Shawnee Smith since I saw her in the genius that was The Blob remake when I was a kid back in 1988.
This is not Shawnee. But she brings back fond memories, and with a dash of Andie McDowell. Nice.
And he is classic Jerz Ooze. Creepy. Bubbly. With a vague scent of Aqua Velva mixing with week old sweatsock.
Breaking: Marissa Miller Turning into Douchebaguette
We've been tracking the celeb HCwDB pairing of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model Marissa Miller and her husband, Ass Pimple, on the site for awhile now, as seen here, here and here.
This is a tragic warning as to what happens when hott commingles near faux-scrote for any extended length of time.
That being said, I'd brave the talons of a pen of hungry chickens in outer Montana just for the chance to briefly fondle the used kleenex left behind by her temperamental rural cousin, Gertrude.
The 2008 Douchies: The Nominees Are...
The 2008 Douchies are coming. December 8th.
Still a couple of weeks away. But here's where I need your help.
The Douchies work over a two week period. Each day a different category is voted on, while the Monthly finalists are broken up into sub-finals groups of three each. The three sub-group winners go on to the final vote, HCwDB of the Year.
But the other categories still need nominees. That's where you come in.
Help me narrow down the field and sort out the hott-wheat from the douche-chaff. Here's the current list of categories in which nominees are still open:
Hottest Hott
Best Golden Globes
Smells Like Poo
Most Expensive First Date Hott
Douchiest Hair
Douchiest Facial Expression
Most Annoying 'Bagling
The Ricky (aka "Douchiest Everybag")
Greatest Crisis of Modernity
Hottest Girl-Next-Door Hott
Most Innovative New 'Bag Maneuver
Most Likely to be Part of the Permanent Collection of the Guggenheim in 2023
Clearest Proof of Natural Selection
Best 'Bag Hunter of the Year (Comments Threads)
Best 'Bag Huntress of the Year (Comments Threads)
Douchiest TV Show of the Year
Douchiest HCwDB Celebrity Couple of the Year
Help me out. Which pics deserve recognition? And by recognition, I mean spew.
List your nominees in the comments threads. Or if you need more time, return to this thread when you have time to sort through.
I'll be taking suggestions right up until we start. And what a glorious, half-drunk Awards Show this will be.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Sir Sucks-a-Lot
There so much wrong in this pic of Sir Sucks-a-Lot mugging a Taylor Dayne cutie, one hardly knows where to begin.
But lets start with that tie.
Ask DB1: Dating a Bleeth
----Dear DB1,
For the last few months I have been hanging out with this girl from work. She is very attractive, smart, and independent. Needless to say, I'm very attracted to this hottie.
However, there is a small problem. Recently, she started "bleething" ever so slightly. Hanging out with rockstar wannabe guys and slowly turning into a douchebaguette.
I'm in a Catch-22 situation here DB1. Either I let her go into the douche abyss, or...I try to keep her from the dark side. Is she worth saving?
In need of your guidance,
LL E-Dogg
---
Whether or not to attempt to pull a hott back from the dark descent into douchescrotewankpooery must be determined on a case by case basis, LLED.
Certain permutations offer hope. For instance, if she flashes gang signs but has not yet started to make sneery facial gestures, there is potential redemption. But if she wears giant D&G sunglasses, snaps gum, and screams "Wooo!" whenever she hears a Katy Perry song, there is no hope and you must move on.
Caption This Pic
Dad, would you mind if we skipped Parents Day on campus this semester?
Hypothetical HCwDB of the Week: Hate Assberry
While we didn't do a Weekly vote this week, I think it's a safe bet that Hate Assberry and his variety of PTP bar hotts would've had a solid shot at winning.
Note the sleeveless white dress shirt Hate's bustin' out while Kanye sings on the teevee.
They also found the actor cast to play "Young Ponch" in the J.J. Abrams directed "CHiPs" reboot.
Blondie is trampy sexy in all the right ways. She probably speaks in an annoying nasal voice, but I would suffer through her vague plans to go back to technical school just for the opportunity to stare at her boobs while she fiddled with her Long Island Iced Tea straw.
The Point
There's a point to this picture, I just can't figure out what it is.
Haha, because point means... ah nevermind.
I'm getting a coffee.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Tonguey McCooties
Okay, we need a chaser after that five part shower mugging. So here's Tonguey McCooties.
Yeah, I know. Not the cleverest name. But I just had three PBRs and half a box of Lil' Debbie Snack Cakes. So bear with.
I loved that hair the first time around. When it was killing hot chicks in Creepshow II.
Oh sweet Mamacita.
Beware the Tongue Cooties.
Doucheclowns in the Shower, Pt. 5
Properly inebriated, the Alpha Doucheclown maneuvers Green Bikini Hott into an underpass, where boob nuzzling can occur.
And a nation weeps.
Another HCwDB coupling has found union.
And yet, we can find redress for our grievance.
By mocking.
Doucheclowns in the Shower, Pt. 4
Alone at last, Alpha Doucheclown moves in for the bite. Notice the mandana still perfectly in place.
GBH seems drunk and confused. Her resistance is down...
Doucheclowns in the Shower, Pt. 3
Post-showered yet pre-bodysprayed, the Doucheclowns prance about, circling their prey.
Note Beta Doucheclown makes his kissy move, while Green Bikini Hott displays her perfectly formed humpty hump.
Alpha Doucheclown watches nervously, warily holding onto GBH's wrist to prevent too much bumper display in front of Beta 'Bag.
What will happen in Part 4?...
Doucheclowns in the Shower, Pt. 2
Part 2 reveals the scrum growing tighter. Baseball cap is now in the shower, as the hats tilt back, the hand gestures grow more faux-gangsta, and one clown moves in for the ass-bite.
Ass-bite Doucheclown is the Alpha 'Bag.
In Part 3, while the Beta 'Bags become distracted, Alpha Doucheclown will move in for the kill...
Doucheclowns in the Shower, Pt. 1
Part 1 of a five part series examining the primitive natural habitats of doucheclowns on the hunt of a green bikini hott.
Notice the key givaways as the douchescrum gathers:
1. Shaved pits on 'bags
2. Giant mandanas in the shower
3. Drunk hotts in state of confusion
Up next: How the scrotewanks position themselves groin-first towards Green Bikini Hott...
Monday, November 17, 2008
Xenu Laughs at You
Alien taint warlord from the planet Alpha Scroturion Five, HCwDB legend, Xenu, laughs at mere mortals who attempt to douche it up in the presence of a hot.
Only Xenu can pollute the boobie hottie suckle thigh with transcendental clarity tests and weird auditing classes, and while wearing a silk dickie.
Heidi and the Orange Popsicle
Note the Popsicle's tentative "hang loose" gesture." There is an awkwardness to his gait. As if he is trying on the California Douche, yet hasn't learned to evoke the higher portents of scrotal taint.
Meanwhile, Heidi has transitioned into her late 20s early young MILF stage with firm thighs and sunny disposition.
She would discipline me with a fly swatter and a large vat of warm Crisco, and then whip up some french toast for breakfast the next morning.
Jailbait with Baldwinbag
I believe that's the Chinese sign for "Frank Stallone."
As to Miley Cyrus, you are under age, so I will simply note that Vegas oddsmakers are pulling for you to make the "Jennifer Love Hewitt Expansion" around your 18th birthday, and have you at 3:1 to do so.
We can't have another Blossom on our hands. That traumatized an entire generation in the early 1990s.
"Cooties Are Real"
Once, when I was walking down the street, I heard a strange young voice cry out to me.
"Cooties are real."
I stopped and turned. I was standing by a schoolyard during recess.
A young girl, maybe nine or ten, stared at me through the fence. Her eyes had the fixed gaze of someone offering a somber and life-changing warning.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Cooties are real."
She repeated her intonation in the hushed whisper of revealing a tragic, yet important, well guarded secret.
I wasn't sure how to respond. Which cooties? And how did she know they were real?
Then the girl handed me a small, folded picture, through the black chain-link fence. As soon as I had it in my grasp, she turned to run off and play with the other children.
I turned over the folded picture and opened it.
It was these two beachgoing choadwanks, and their Bleethed out ladies.
It was true. The girl was right. I had to spread the word.
Cooties are real.
Reader Mail: The Photobag
gian writes in from Italy:----
Dear DB1,
i was watching this sweet croationa volleyball's team photos when suddenly i was stuck with this orrendus pic featuring this uber scrote and these delicious hot....
ciao
Gian Douche
----
Ah yes, the Photobag.
Those pseudo-artistic pretentious choadwanks who pretend to be "artists" to get the young hotts to pose for them. Who talk about how they just do publicity and advertising to "pay the bills" while they put their gallery show together.
With long lenses most phallic, we must mock the Photobags for being the gum snapping asswipes they are.
And if we get to stare at Croatian Volleyball Leg Hottness along the way, think of it as cosmic reward.
Caption This Pic
No Weekly, as your humble narrator is digging through the year's pics and starting to put together the categories for the 2008 Douchie Awards.
Instead, here's a Caption This Pic that is totally up to you. Figure this mess out with hilarious reparte and savage wit in the comments thread.
EDIT: And here are a few:
The pubic lice formed their formidable battle phalanx and began their relentless assault on Gurn Blanston's asshole. (darksock)
You are here. And you will regret it in the morning. (massengill)
Scungilli Sammy got tired of yelling "Yo, check this out" in noisy nightclubs. (scrotunda)
I'm with stupid. (neil)
I'm with tiny (anonymous)
Due to the economic downturn, Olaf was unable to afford a real GPS. So he had to resort to alternative methods of telling which way was south. (anonymous)
