Saturday, January 31, 2009

    Ask DB1: The "Southern California Blazer"

    —-
    Dear DB1,

    I had some questions regarding the “Southern California Blazer”.

    By “Southern California Blazer”, I mean a classy business blazer, paired with a gaudy, gold speckled Ed Hardy shirt or no shirt at all. I have been trying wrap my head around this, because they look so professional in the office but are so uncomfortable.

    So my theory is that if you are wearing a blazer in southern-California or as these chodewanks might say “So-Cal” and are not comfortable and probably work a cell phone kiosk which requires no blazer, are you automatically a douche? I would say yes, but do not want to jump to conclusions without the rule being made official by you, Mr. DB1.

    Sincerely,
    Alpha Chode

    —-

    Yes, Alpha Chode, and good call. Auto stage-2 ‘bag violation.

    And, on an unrelated note, pink satin boobies make babies do the happy dance.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Saturday, January 31, 2009

    Toronto Poo Jay


    Toronto Poo Jay knows that nothin’ says “bad-ass” while posing in front of the Space Needle quite like arm-hooking your lady with a stoagie in one hand and a “Shocker” in the other.

    Except, of course, the chin strap + faux.

    Which means you’re not just cool. You’re ubercool.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Friday, January 30, 2009

    Friday Thoughts and Links


    Here’s your Friday links as Hall of Scrote legend Xenu poses with a Blonde in a shower stall:

    In case you had any doubt left about the faux-humble poseur doucheface John Meyer, let there be no more.

    The Brit-Chick who dumped Prince Harry is orange

    Reader The Douchefather notes that HCwDB can be seen in the work of British pre-Raphaelite painter John Everett Millais (1829-1896)

    Richard Grieco, Typhoid Mary of the Grieco Virus, has “Gone Country.” (and lets just pretend George Clinton was not in that clip)

    2008 Douchie Winner The Blowfish is now immortalized as Pop Art.

    When you’re as iconic as Kettlehead, you don’t need a Halloween costume.

    Even the squirrels are turning themselves orange.

    And finally, props to the team at Robot Chicken for the absolutely genius, Le Wrath di Khan. Well played, animation guys.

    Go forth and drink, fellow ‘bag Hunters and Huntresses. And may all your wine be fortified.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Friday, January 30, 2009

    Butt Soft!


    What glute through yonder window breaks?

    It’s the Far East, and Juliet has a great ass.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Friday, January 30, 2009

    Gramps Got Game


    You go with your Ed Hardy gang-sign flashin’ self, Gramps.

    Because there ain’t no ring on your finger.

    At least not since Grandma Bertha passed back in ’02.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Friday, January 30, 2009

    Is this Pippy?


    Is this 2008 Douchie Award Winning Everybag, Pippy along with Sultry Ski Bunny Perfection (SSBP)?

    Same d-neck outpatient clinic t-shirt. Same smug douche-face and shaved head. And Sultry Ski Bunny still wants me with the same bedroom eyes.

    Here’s another pic to compare.

    She has maintained her perfect Oslo shoulder-suckle hottness for a New Year.

    He is exactly the same One Flew Over the Poobag’s Nest poo.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Friday, January 30, 2009

    Friday Haiku


    Awwww, isn’t that sweet.
    His and Hers Dog-Tags, in case
    Night ends in death.

    Not so big secret.
    We all know you are balding.
    Mandana no help.

    – The Donger

    With a shelf like that,
    Deep-sea divers fall off and
    Clutch for dogtag.

    – Holbrooks Douchestershire Sauce

    Bonerific hott
    Tainted by Rodrigo’s lips
    Dang! Look at those boobs

    – Vin Douchal

    Oh the irony -
    He’s lactose intolerant;
    What a way to die.

    – DarkSock

    Breasts boobs tits
    Cans mamms melons juggs pillows
    Sweater cows lunch trays

    – massengill

    Bridget Fonda looks
    Rough now she’s Mrs. Elfman.
    Oingo Boingo Bonk.

    – Chupacabra

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, January 29, 2009

    The Consistent Kettlehead


    This is the fourth pic we’ve run of polished chest-shave displaying, tighty t-shirt wearing, chin pubes flaunting, eyebrow arching, sunglasses at night uberdouche, Kettlehead.

    In each of his pics, quality hotts rotate in and out, but Kettlehead’s scrotewankery never changes.

    Next week is the Monthly, but you gotta figure this choad’s got a solid lead in the Vegas betting line for the next Weekly.

    And Tight Peach Brunette, you make my toes curdle like sour milk during monsoon season. I would pay you in trade to stomp on my back in stilettos, then tell me to leave.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, January 29, 2009

    Seeing Porsche


    DB numero uno.

    I was in Miami for five days just last week to run the ING Miami Half Marathon with a couple friends. We got in on Thursday and the run wasn’t until Sunday morning, so we decided to take in the sights. Besides spending time in the sand, we made the trip down to South Beach one night to, as one might put it, Get Our Drink On.

    As we drove down the streets looking for parking, we settled on a parking deck just around the corner from a strip of bars. The guy driving pulled into the deck, then, ignoring the overhang sign prohibiting driving through further, did just that. People started getting uppity and honking, but lo and behold there was a primo parking spot. So we’re waiting for the line of cars to move so we can pull in, and the last vehicle is a white Porsche 911 with matching rims, a spoiler kit and tints. The driver side window is down, and as it pulls around I see the driver.

    It was Joey Porsche.

    I kid you not I f@#king froze. Couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. It was like studying Hinduism and then seeing Gandhi in the flesh, except replace Hinduism with the Douchal Arts and Gandhi with Grieco Virus source.

    The other people in the car said things like, “Oh nice car.” One girl said he was hot, and when the guy driving told JP, he smirked and sped away.

    We took the parking spot and as the driver pulled the key out of the ignition, I came back into consciousness. I pulled out my phone, opened the site and scrambled for the HoS to show them who they had just witnessed in person.

    They got a good laugh and I think I’ve turned them into followers. The rest of the trip really couldn’t compare to the delight of seeing Joey P in person, and aside from running a personal best 1:31 in the half marathon, it was easily the highlight of Miami.

    – Brad
    —-

    Only the chosen few are (dis)graced by witnessing one of the Hallowed Hall of Scrote in person, Brad. Heed your karmic lesson well. For you have witnessed Porschenheit 9/11 in person. And G-d has rewarded you with a successful marathon run.

    May you never come close to such source-Grieco again.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, January 29, 2009

    Poetry Thursday


    Oh Douche with the douche-face,
    Your sneer I’d like to mace,
    Hip Hop shirts don’t change your race,
    And that earring belongs to Grace.

    Oh Holy Cleavite on the right,
    on Perky Kim you are a delight,
    You’re pale and tasty in the moonlight,
    And I’d lick your shoulder for a fortnight.

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    # posted by douchebag1
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