----

As I contemplate Jason Giambibag's macking on brunette bartenders, my thoughts go from boobies to Cabury Creme Eggs.

Cadbury Creme Eggs are pure liquid crack. Like licking the nectarine sweat-water wrung out of a towel after mopping the perspiring boob of a spectral post-Stairmaster Jessica Biel.

I love them so. Chocolate creaminess and sugary sugar yolk.

I would buy one at the store, just for the chance to well, consume it after unwrapping it.

Here's your Friday Links:

First off, it's been an intense HCwDB week with some truly spectacular combos of hott/douche. So here's your reward. Have some Ass Pear.

Crimson Ted busts the "Feral Celtic"

The Ex-Mr. Sharon Stone, Phil Bronstein, gives HCwDB a shout-out in a column at the Huffington Post. We's raunchy.

Sports Illustrated beauty Adriana Lima marries 1970s porn-star Marko Jaric.

Holly Madison makes Criss Angel's peen disappear.

Nub goes shopping for discount shorts.

Voor Marnix en zn zelf bruinende oliën!

Kevin Rudolf making a push for Douchiest Band of the Year at the 2009 Douchie Awards.

And finally, courtesy of Reader Mike, the somewhat disturbing: Poo Dog.

Your narrator, the DB1, is slightly drunk, full of sugary breakfast cereal and tasty Hostess snack treats, and ready to spend an evening wandering the streets and waxing philosophic on the eternal gender entanglement.

May your weekend be fruitful and fermented. May all your hotties be bouncy, and all your 'bags mocked until they retire in shame.

Somewhere in this pic of Tri-Hott Car Girls, I've carefully hidden a greased up sportscoat Waldouche.

Look closely.

Can you find him?

----
Hi,

If I am over fourty and routinely date twentysomethings am I automatically a douchebag? Just wondering.

Thank you,

B, PhD
----

Not automatically, but if you get over feifty, then I'd be worried.

Emo Ralph glares, pouts.
Curvy backed hott embraces,
Philosophy dies.

Bleethed-out bulldog dyke
Embraces tender blonde hott
Jimmy eats her world.

- Crucial Head

"Goodbye Horses" plays...
He dances to a mirror
And tucks in his junk.
- Boatbutter

Emo is his life
Maybe he should cut deeper
Holly will move on.

- Arch Douche of Bagbury

I'd nibble that calf
Hell, I'd nibble a cow's calf
to see her boobies

- IdahoHottPotato

consideration:
use it before you lose it
Raspberry Rogain

- Dimples

Watching the legendary Egyptian God of bodyspray, ScroTep, return to earth after a transmat device on Mars was triggered by the Doctor, and mug sweet innocent Boobie Suckle Betty, is definitely a lost episode I can never unsee.

Like a cyclone of grease, a tornado of sleaze, The Swirlwind blows into town and latches onto any nearby Party Girls with the sonar targeting of complex hair fractility.

I do not gotta have faith, Sherlyn. Except in those tighty-tight shorts.

Which almost make up for sperm-tatts and rosarie beads on your man handler.

Almost.

But not quite.

So, presumably, Chico here has tattooed his mother and father on his left pec.

My question is this: Is the nipple an intentional, perhaps metaphorical, part of the meta-design?

I notice it lines up directly with his mother's stomach area. Is Chico commenting on the cyclical nature of reproduction by allowing his nipple to serve as metaphor for his mother's umbilicus? How would post-structuralist second-wave feminist psychoanalysists parse this location of nipple within projection of parental inscription as corporeal signifier?

And more importantly, is Maria's tongue the cutest, pinkest little suckle tongue this side of the legend of the "Suckle Tongues of Madagascar"?

Poor Ubiquitous Red Cups.

Even they can't understand the DB1's babbling on this Thursday.

----
Dear DB1,

I have a question that maybe you've been asked before but maybe you could help me find an answer.

While on my morning commute, I was overwhelmed by the sight of a walking Ed Hardy ad. I'm talking the whole nine yards. Hat, oversized hoodie, bedazzled jeans and terrible terrible shoes. I'm guessing he couldn't afford to buy a car what with his clothing costing him a small fortune and he sat down across from me on the bus. His eyebrows were more sculpted then mine and he had the permanent pout, it was ridiculous. A true douchebag by every meaning of the word.

What was the most annoying though, was that he was blasting his music and bobbing up and down to the beat. Being as I was right across from him I could make out the music quite well. My question is this since there is clearly signs of being a douchebag like clothing, is there such a thing as 'bagTunes? Music that a douchebag would love? And if so, how come the rest of us are exempt, or are we?

Keep up the great work,

~Sarah
----

'bagTunes, a subsidiary of iTunes, is launching its Beta version at Ed Hardy kiosks in malls across America in March. Look for collars to begin popping with delight shortly thereafter.

Some days I just should've stayed in bed.

Via DListed.com.

EDIT: The readers step up for the tag:

Butch Cassidy and the Douched out Kids: here

Axius Duchius Maximus: here.

Mr. White: here

Boatbutter: here

Douchille Bag'Neil: here

----
DB1-

This is actually from the Groove Cruise. I lost my scarf the night before and the next morning on the beach I catch this d-bag sporting it with these two girls. It lead to an awkward and embarassing conversation about wanting my scarf back..but pretty fun for me.

- Julie
----

Ah yes, "Scarfbaggery on the Beach."

One of the lesser known, but highly acclaimed, Werner Fassbinder films.

Please, FBB, do not have it your way.

Tatt Translation: I have the Canis Major Constellation of Stars Faithfully Replicated on My Pants.

Vito busted game like Franz Liszt,
His face composes like a classical composist,
With a Hardy on his shirt,
Vito hit some pay dirt,
With a 'Giland Hott too drunk to resist, Drakkar Noir mist.

Yup. Need a coffee. Way too early for the Franz Liszt references.

A tough week. One of the toughest we've had. All three hottie/assface couplings had a shot.

But only Crimson Ted was Crimson:

Gee Forge: Crimson Ted, because he lives a miserable existence and he knows it, and I know it, and it makes both of us sad.

Anonymous: Crimson Ted. Oblivious to hotts and focused on pointing = HCwDB of the Week

Emma G: Every time Ted points, an angel gets its wings ripped off. Crimson Ted FTW.

douche-osopher: Having a bad hair day, Ted? Burnt-Orange Fascism not all it's cracked up to be? Your brother stars in Phantom of the Opera, and all you got was this crappy T-shirt? Crimson Ted, FTW.

Anonymous: Gotta be Crimson Ted. Just based on the orange spectrometers people keep making of him. Anyone who needs one is a total douche nozzle.

Mr. White: Crimson Ted says, "I will give you a breakfast burrito, $3.79, and a reach-around to fight me." And for this, he wins. Even though his hotts are probably nightmarish pains in the ass.

CrackedActor: Crimson Ted. He's a Spider Man and His Amazing Friends villian, whereas Yolk is just a Sundy Morning knock-off. Like Glatar and the Golden Lance.

End the Habedouchery: That look tells me that heads will roll if his cliche Patron bottle service isn't properly chilled. And for that, my friend, you are douche.

Great work, all. Excellent breakdowns by all the 'bag hunters in the threads this week. C.T.'s run of crimson and high price hotts was too strong to overcome. But methinks the iconographic Incredible Yolk will also find longevity of mock:

Douchille Bag'Neal: The fact that Yolk is at the beach, and slathered in self tanner to the point of overused streaks on his skin, as well as the fact that he has perched himself in a domineering pose above the magnificent boobie that is Hangy Haired Lisa, makes this choice clear.

Douche D'Afrique: Yolk FTW! his scotewank is the Australopithecus of Douchebaggery. The "missing link" between Cro 'Bagnon and Johnny Blaze. No wrist tats, no white belt, just primeval douche. And Orangeness.

Douchorama: The Yolk has to go down as a classic, albeit posed, image of douchenanigans. His homage to Fabio complete with his damsel hott makes this the easy choice for the win.

Hampered only by a less than fully seen hott, The Yolk still has genius DB quality. Methinks we will be seeing more of the Yolk in the coming Weeks. For no one else quite mauls hotts when he's Orangey like the Yolk.

And lets not forget The Hickbag:

fuglygurlie: Hickbag FTW. Purely based on his lily white, feminine, well manicured hand which inspires me to rip his arms from their sockets and lovingly caress said hands, feeding the rest of him through a tree shredder feet first to a gentle Vivaldi wafting on the breeze and a deep bodied Shiraz warming in the sun.

Rubber Douchey: Strong arguements for Crimson Ted, but Hickbag hasta do it for me. Something about how neatly trimmed yet dripping with skuzz his porn-stache is. I shudder and weep.

Michael Phelp's 10" Bong: Hillbillies always do it for me. Hickbag and his First Cousin Hott FTW.

fishslushy: hickbag FTW. the parallel lines formed by his eyebrows and crustache are too powerful of a force to deny. Plus, darleen's matching eye makeup and bra are pleasing.

It was an incredibly strong HCwDB week, with three complete contenders. The comments thread did not disappoint. Excellent douche eviserations and boobie lust all around, people. But I turn to the everpresent Anonymous to make the case why Ted and the Leggy Blondes are in the Monthly:

Have to go with Ted. What a supreme douchebag.

Indeed he is, Anonymous. Indeed he is. We'll see his crimson ass in the Monthly.

----
DB1-

So, I used to know this girl... She was hot in that adorably vapid, sweet, likely to be abused sort of way. Anyways, I looked her up on facebook and found out that she married this guy...she is the girl on the right.

What is it about adorable waspy southern girls that they marry 28+yo douchebags when they're 22?

What's even worse about this guy is that his hair was a FAR more douchey version in the wedding pics. Like an intentionally haphazard version of the same douche-spike. Anyways, keep up the good work.

Sincerely,
-Stalking the April Hall of Hott
----

Yup, married to a hair-spikey stage-2 ex-Fratbag. And all while Ubiquitous Red Cup watches sadly. Granted, this pic doesn't really betray much in the way of noteworthy douche/hott. But the letter sums up the pathos many of us have experienced when a former GF marries a scrote like this putz.

So good work, STAHoH, and may you find that lovely April. And send us pics.

Interestingly, their combined hand gestures spell out "Bark Suitability Pregnancy" in international sign language.

Which makes a certain sort of sense, if you think about it.

It's a Crimsplosion of Scrote!!

A Teducation of Taint!!

A... well, a Crimson Ted. Complete with Marilyn Monroe sweater-vest, sparkley belt buckle, and fondling a Paid-to-Pose butt girl.

Note the absolute first here at HCwDB: A Triple Mark of the 'Bag.

Like the Triple Lindig before it, this is a legend only whispered about in the hallways of douchal training centers, but never fully believed to be real.

Yet here we have proof.

Crimson Ted. One cock-n-balls Mark of the 'Bag on the forehead grease. Two nutsacks on either cheek.

Appreciate the legend. For it is poosome.

----
Hi DB1,

Fly west from Sydney three hours and you'll hit New Zealand, Aotearoa, land of the long white cloud. Venture out on a night and you'll encounter kiwidouche.

Kiwidouche grow disproportionately, the claws achieving a size too large for the yet undeveloped body to control. Hence the squint-eyed visage lost in the ecstasy of grope as the strobe light pulses, hinting at seizure.

Luckily, this junior kiwidouche will soon be at peace with the forest, cut down not by the URC, which is yet to cast its predatory shadow over godzone, but by the overpriced premixed rendition of one Jim Beam, mate.

Young blonde surfer hotts are free again to ride the next wave of bourbon sweat.

Yours,

New Doucheland 1.
----

Well tagged, ND1, and what is clear is that the Grieco Virus, unleashed from America upon the world, has still only taken a budding root in countries like New Zealand.

You must fight back before the douche virus spreads. Save the blonde party hotts. By mocking the Kiwibag. From a safe distance.

And if that doesn't work, hitting on his hotts when he's in the bathroom.

...to Detroit.

It's like one of those closeup slides of rancid meat fungus attacking a healthy, succulent piece of porkchop hottness from my third grade Health Class.

And yes, in third grade I was turned on by porkchops.

Because they were tasty.

And when you haven't figured out boobie hottie suckle thigh yet, a tasty piece of porkchop goes a long way to working out early sexual awakening.

I learned this by reading Freud's Beyond the Porkchop Principle.

They're gonna need a bigger boat.

I try to remain impartial when judging specific sports fan culture.

But it may be time to proclaim that it is more than coincidence that nearly all baseball cap wearing douches sliming up on some mellon-balls happen to be wearing Yankees caps.

And with popped collar, no less.

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? A nation turns its lonely collar to you. Poo poo poo.

Out with the black velvet suit. In with the ski goggles. And yet another A-List Hott on his arm.

Yet Crimson Ted is above such petty worldly desires like feminine companionship.

For he loves crap.

And Crimson Ted reminds you to vote in the HCwDB of the Week contest, below.

After a raucus evening for your humble narrator half-watching The Oscars while enjoying a tasty cola beverage out of a limited edition "Broheim!!" coffee mug, I am fired up and ready to mock.

Here's your finalists for the HCwDB of the Week:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: The Incredible Yolk

Yolk SMASSHHHHHH!!!!

And by SMASSHHHHHH, Yolk mean spray on tan!!!

Posed pic?

Perhaps.

But in classic form, we have a sexy suckle-hott being "claimed" by a greased up orange doucheclown more concerned with his own pecs than her perky boobies.

And that, my friends, qualifies for HCwDB.

Factor in the unique beach setting and pose, and this pic rises above the crop to earn a well oiled place in the Weekly.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Crimson Ted, aka Orange Anime Demon

As the honorable Sen. Tom Douchele of South Descrota pointed out in the comments thread, Crimson Ted is the very same Orange Anime Demon who has been threatening numerous hot MILFs in clubs across town.

Crimson Ted is all sorts of aging club-douche wrongness.

Not the least is his Crimson tan, as 2009 increasingly becomes "The Year of the Orange."

And lets not forget the gnawable legs on Tina and Trina here.

They are curvy, giggly balls of high maintence delight.

I would spend hundreds buying them useless baubles and trinkets while they laughed at me by the pool and then flashed me some side-boob. And I would be happy.

Because hey. Sideboob.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Hickbag

For reminding us of an often less featured category of punkass beyoch, The Hickbag earns a slot in the Weekly.

Hat Tilt and Southern Drawl do not mix, Hickbag.

Now put down your stupid hand gesture and get back to the Five n' Dime, Jimmy Dean Jimmy Dean.

So them's your three.

Should the winner be Hickbag and the Rural Hott? Or perhaps The ragin' orangin' of The Incredible Yolk? Or perhaps this is the week for Crimson Ted to take his leggy model hott fondling place in the Monthly?

That, fellow 'bag hunters, is up to you.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

And while we're honoring legends of poo, here's a new pic of legendary HCwDB Goose Runner, Johnny Blaze.

Blaze is celebrating being the latest enshrinee in our hallowed Hall of Scrote.

By running with the X.

And Sheryl, a tasty volleyball player from nearby Long Island Tech, where's she's majoring in "Accounting" and her BFF Chase was a total bitch last night outside of Pinkberry.

On Friday's Conan O'Brian sendoff on NBC, the legendary sleeve-tatted pseudo-talented hipster clown, The Mayerbag, once again fessed up and admitted he's a huge douche as an attempt to ironicize his way out of the truth of his core being.

I first called out the Mayerbag last year, when he was "regular guy" - blogging like a semi employed Gawker writer, here, his Borat suited antics here, and after he got his sleeve-tatts and started dating Aniston, here.

I'm still searching for a YouTube clip, but you can see Mayerbag try to subvert the truth of his own soul through irony on Conan on Hulu.

I'm just not sure where in the show the clip actually is.

Cuz I'm hungover and can't find it. And my socks smell like gouda.

PIC DELETED

He'd do two chicks at the same time, man.

Crimson Ted senses there is a sexy brunette behind him.

But Crimson Ted does not need to turn to see her.

For Crimson Ted knows all he needs to know.

EDIT: Inspired by Mike's work yesterday, Gaijindouche has whipped up a second Crimson Ted Spectrometer.

EDIT #2: And Mike follows up Gaijundouche's work with a Crimson Ted Facial Averaging Spectrograph.

It was the hotts of times. It was the douchiest of times.

The 'bags remain mockable, and the suckle thighs, sucklable.

Los Angeles has been washed clean by a Travis Bickle inspired rain, and now only faintly smells like Hollypoo.

Dust clouds swirl over palm trees as a twenty-two year old hott walks down Sunset and dreams of hosting her own show on the E Network.

But that guy she met at the bar last night was lying to her. She knew it. But she made out with him by the bathroom anyway.

Here's your Friday links:

Sorority Chicks with Creepy Emobags. At a backyard Ubiquitous Red Cup party, no less.

Eleven boobs

Hot Chicks with Roger Ailesbag

Cincinnati's ladies are fed up with the scrote in this nicely sarcastic Craigslist posting.

And then Boston's Craiglist brings the Authentobaggery.

And to think, just last month we gave this guy a nottadouche.

For the art lovers who read the site, this pic has a similar genius of aesthetics as did our 2008 "Most Likely to be Part of the Permanent Collection at the Guggenheim in 2023" award winner, Still Life with Coors Light. The hotts weren't quality enough to run it on the site, but let us appreciate its brilliant composition. I entitle it, "Rock Flower Sunrise." Once I am finally accepted as a true artist, this will be one of the pics at my first gallery showing.

Hot Chicks with Deutschbags. What will those wacky Germans think of next? Perhaps this.

And what would a Friday Thoughts and Links be without my unending obsession with minimally famous Hollywood starlet, Peyton List? Here's a pic from Peyton List's guest spot as a magician's assistant on an episode of Monk. And one more. Mmmm... lovely.

Peyton remains my preeminent Hollywood Suckle Thigh.

EDIT: Swapped out the pic due to the potential for trannydom in the last pic.

EDIT #2: Okay, who's sending in the hot tranny pics? I'm swapping out the pic because the adams apple was freaking me out. Instead, here's a nerdy Asian dude with a hot blonde.

With four of the sexiest, most sucklable legs in creation flexing themselves in front of him, Crimson Ted would rather point angrily at something else.

I'm guessing it's his personal stylist. Who died.

In 1982.

Bonus points for the first photoshop expert to determine how many gradations of orange separate Ted's face from hand.

EDIT: Reader Mike provides us with a Crimson Ted Spectrometer.

Because nothing rocks the strip club hotts quite like argyle sweaters and the white, J.Crew, button-down dress shirts.

Except that final touch -- the patented "Cylon Eye" chin fungus.

Creepy Bandito,
Talks broken Spanish to Kims:
"Free fondle, free drink."

He has two beauties
Yet Sheik Omar pube-y chin
Is too drunk to care

-- Gaijindouche

Bagatov the drunk
will not release busty hotts.
Unless they take photo.

-- teh abominable snowdouche

I think no one knows
But the cockroach on my chin
Tells the world I'm poo

-- DBAD

LEFT HOTTS RED EYS SAY:
"TARMAL ME FLYTEHETH UNTIL
THERE"S NOT TARMAL L>EFT!

-- Flyteeth

come home with Basheer
me makey falalfal meal
blondes make out...i cry

-- Arch Douche of Bagbury

lazy-eyed psycho.
clings tightly to young, blonde sluts.
glory days have passed.

-- ted theodore scrotgan

Douche weaves in the wind
Bleeths stand erect like trees
They're all that's erect

-- I am Jack's outraged liver

The Orange and racoon eyes have jumped to the girl, the dude is bringing back A/X and retro-2006 faux fwip with forward comb, and the whole thing smells like rotting seal.

That's it.

I'm setting a talking lemur on fire.

When Jennifer and Bob decided to donate to the "Make a Wish Foundation," little did they know that Bobby's wish was to douche out in their kitchen.

Yeah yeah.

Nub first appeared on the site back in November, stalking the Sorority Hotts, and then proved his fratdouchery here, here and here.

Okay, the truth is we kinda like Nub. He's harmless.

A non-threatening a douche. Kind of amusing, actually. But he pulls the A-list college hott and makes the stupid hair.

And so we mock his sorry ass.

Where's Revolutionary Girl Utena to slay the Orange Demon when you need her?

This may be a first at the After-Prom house party.

After an intense Senior Year of study, Cindee finally lets out her inner slutt and get down on the dance floor.

But Rusty's too busy making his patented "hand gesture with digital camera" move.

Thankfully, there's excellent pre-framed artwork, purchased at Bed, Bath and Beyond, to add $19.95/per worth of class to scene.

What kills me is I may just have to give Ryan a nottadouche, as there's nothing really offensive about him.

And judging by the company he keeps, Ryan wins at the game of life.

This post is just making me depressed. Thankfully, I have a solution.

For when I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom:

Mother Mary: Blow it out your ass, Ryan, you giant sucking gaping chest-wound of scrotal taint!

Thanks Mother Mary. I can now let it be.

This post and pic are dedicated to longtime HCwDB comments thread 'bag hunter, Pfah.

After suffering for months when his company filtered HCwDB from his work computer, Pfah has convinced the I.T. guys to make an exception for the hottie/douchey dialectics, and he is back on board.

One of the earliest and most dedicated 'bag hunter and boobie lusters on the board, Pfah also did the excellent photoshop illustration tweaks for the chapter on Douche History (B.G. and A.G.) in my book.

For that, and for excellency in 'bag hunting, this hottie/douchey coupling goes out to Pfah. Because something tells me he has a thing for reedy blondes.

And yes, I had to go to Australia to find this pic.

KC Hott writes in with a descriptive tag:

----
Hi there!

There's nothing that ruins my enjoyment of a good bowl of Corn Pops while I sit on my living-room rug quite like having to stare at Grieco Virus in mid douche-to-hot transmission.

Give her 48 hours. Soon the "woo!!" and hand gestures will begin.

Followed closely by giant bug sunglasses and sneery expressions directed at any camera within a fifty yard radius.

Proving even a "pro" Vegas spectacular douchpocalype and a Bleethy, bony hott can ride to victory, the win was solid by Rusty. The voters speak:

Alexander the Douche: My limited vocabulary lacks the proper verbiage to describe the pile of excrement that is Rusty.

Anonymous: Rusty the Frill-Necked Lizard is a "KICK FACE"!!! He wins hands down!

Billy Jag: i keep staring at this picture of this mohawked idiot by the pool and hoping that a giant disembodied fist will fly in from the right of the frame and punch him squarely in his annoying face. i agree that his hott is bleethed beyond repair and while i usually like my skanks with a little more meat on their bones, there is still something undeniably sexy about her... and when i say "undeniably sexy" i mean "chlamydia." rusty ftw

ohiofj: Rusty - hands down - a lot of prep work went into this final moment that was caught ever-so-well by the photographer. Every thing clicks (actually booms) for a douche bag in this shot. I am writing in Jeff Reed for honorable mention.

Disconnected: Rusty the frill-necked lizard for the win! The best hott this week, and his facial expression is just so incredibly tense, that he can only be a) straining not to prematurely decorate his pants due to the proximity of the hott, or b) trying to pass that double-choc-protein-bar-mixture-thing that he has to eat to maintain those muscleoids.

douche equis: Rusty -- he best evokes the "desire to slug in face" response that is so important to gut-instinct douchebag detection.

Ojo Rojo: Rusty TFNL, FTW. He's got the copious markings of the urban douche tribe warrior that just absolutely scream, "LOOK AT ME!!!" only the way a douche can. The last time it was cool to look like that was at Little Big Horn.

Excellent job, panel. A solid victory for the write-in Lizard candidate and his Bony Hott in the tighty-tights. But the everypoo of Tony Broma came in a solid second:

Kennedy Smith: Tony Broma. I betting in that pic he's playing a really sweet Night Ranger lick on his air guitar.

MD(ouche)C: While Lorie is the least hott (and/or sleazy) of the four hotts in the running, Tony is far and away the bigger douchebag. Decider for me was the mandana on his right wrist and the hint of a dogtag chain (could be a cross... or a shark's tooth... who knows?!)

ehcuodouche: Tony Broma, on the other hand, exhibits exquisite punchy-face. I actually think he might be air-guitaring here, which explains the sign confusion. Note also the ring on the index finger, yet nowhere else, showing the damage the roids have done to his testosterone-addled brain.

Dolphe Douchegren: It's gotta be Tony Broma. It's the back to basics homegrown douche flavor that in the end triumphs over the glitzy and dazzling appearance of the more elaborate species. The balance between innocence and total scrotewank in the picture makes the ratio pretty close to golden.

In many ways, Tony Broma had a subtler yet more potent hottie/douchey cohabitation than the loudness of Rusty. But the voters spoke, so who am I to argue? And the Frat-genericism of "FTW" came in a distant and pooey third:

Count Douchekevitch: For The Wank, For the Weekly, on the potency of his stenchy frat-choadness plus the worst white boy tattoo ever. Way to qualify for the eminem "what hood are you from?" club. His 18 year old Id so suppresses the ego, that when his super-ego awakes (say in 10 years,) the "I'm 30 and I already regret my tattoo" feeling may drive this gimp to do us all a favor and jump off the top of Paris Las Vegas' tower. Oh yes, plus the bikini lovelies on each arm.

But this was Rusty's week to triumph. As Shpoople World Champion sums it up:

Rusty FTW. Only because I can imagine him saying something like this...
"FUGGIN HEAD SCARS AND TATTOOS, THAT'S WHAT RUSTY DOOO!!!! What kind of toppings for your sandwich?"

Exactly Shpoople. While I wasn't sure Rusty and Lotus Flower fit the authentic "hott/douche", the voters have spoken, and Rusty and tighty tight bony hott, have earned their well deserved seat in the Monthly.

Just for kicks, Tito decided to move the monthly meeting of the "Unibrow Club" to Vegas, so Dieter, Carlos and Uter could test out their newly restored confidence in style.

This Stonebag isn't much of a Stonebag.

Almost on the verge of a nottadouche if not for the Hellen Keller glasses and fungy chinstrap.

Okay, I probably wouldn't even run it except that I want to powder smirky Sarah Hottowitz on the left's little Hebraic buns with talcum powder, Kosher salt, and a small potato pancake I nicknamed Irving.

And I won't forget about you, Sarah's goyish friend, Kristen. You will also receive some talcum powder. But no Kosher salt, and no potato pancake.

Just talcum powder.

We haven't captured a lot of southern Hickbags on the site in the last few months. At least not since the Kid Rock wifebeater craze of 2007 broke out like a rash of thigh warts.

Hickbags are identified by creepy porn-staches and unwashed redneck hair.

Yet, like all douches, the hand gestures and hat tilt are never far behind.

Oh, Carlee. I know you're behind on the farm payments. And that moonshine your brother Ray makes is killer. But I would still slather your favorite hogs with butter and crisco just for the chance to play an out-of-tune guitar by the Five and Dime in the hopes your Ford pickup might break down on the way to summer rodeo.

Instead of a "Where's Waldouche?," today we're going to play, "Where's Guy-Who-Changed-Your-Car's-Oil-Last-Tuesday?

Somewhere in the pic of perky and curvy shmorgasboard of boob (and I see you, pouty Racoon blonde), I've carefully hidden a Guy-Who-Changed-Your-Car's-Oil-Last-Tuesday.

Look closely.

Can you find him?

For those of you unable to locate the carefully hidden Waldorange in last Saturday's "Where's Waldorange," here's the answer key.

Note that Waldorange has hidden his "Yankee Cap Tilt" rather cleverly.

Mmm... I'd like to One Day at a Time Valerie Bertinelli Cutie's Schneiders.

Alt Title: Chest Star the Molest Star.

EDIT: A little too much nip slip for a family friendly website like HCwDB, so The Incredible Yolk came by to shut things down.

EDIT 2: Pic links to borderline NSFW version to eliminate the Yolk.