Thursday, April 30, 2009

    Jerry O’Connell loves HCwDB

    Good work, Cush. You’re forgiven for dropping the comb through the railroad tracks.

    And your wife is so hott, she makes my psyche ache with longing for the God that never was. I would gnaw through fields of bramble just for the chance to sniff the discarded makeup canister of blue paint left over after an X-Men shoot.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, April 30, 2009

    Kissyface Slims and Lola


    Here’s the thing, Kissyface. A D-Neck shirt betraying a beer bottle tatt, just above a middle aged paunch, is not a good look. Embrace your transition into your late 30s.

    Lola may be trashy, mai tai bar hott trampy sexy, but thems hills call for my Lewises to Clark her Nanooks of the North.

    And yes, that last sentence devolved into the obvious historical references. Because yesterday used up my Freud chits for the week.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, April 30, 2009

    The Metsbag


    Mets third baseman David Wright celebrates a recent win with a zinfandel, a hottie, and a spikey douche-faux.

    EDIT: Okay, this guy’s probably a nottadouche, but he gets paid boatloads to throw a baseball and bang hotts of that caliber. But then again, he lives in Queens. So, douche.

    EDIT #2: To those in the comments threads claiming 100% nottadouche, are you sure?

    EDIT #3: More evidence.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, April 30, 2009

    The Choadpoo


    We’ve seen many examples of extreme cultural douchewankery in presence of the hot chick on this site. But every so often we must remind ourselves of the everyday choadpoo.

    The douche of genericism that resides on all of our streets and is dating all of our ex-girlfriends.

    Like Kent, here. Headlocking Amy while making the doucheface. These are the real viral spreaders of Grieco. These are the true choadpoo.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, April 30, 2009

    Connecticut Thugz 4 Life


    Yo yo yo.

    Gonna bend my chick over in my stylin’ new basement apartment moms rented for me while I’se workin’ out that payment plan with my baby momma, yo.

    Just gots to slap dat ass for a bit, before gettin’ to my new gig at KFC, where I make the mad cash.

    For reals, yo. Cuz I’m a gangsta.

    Just check the gat on my shirt. Would my printed t-shirt lie?

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, April 30, 2009

    Popeye the Scroter Man


    For blocking that lineup of tasty olive oyl goodness, and with Aqua Ed Hardy no less, you get a Bluto to the nads, Popeye.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, April 30, 2009

    Crisis In the Scrote Zone

    —-
    DB1,

    Amidst all this talk about “Swine Flu,” I got to thinking. It might be time for a public service announcement.

    After all, HCwDB is to douche as the Center for Disease Control is to Swine Flu. The Swine Douche trend is a true pandemic.

    We must heed the warning signs and act with vigilance to stop the spread of this pandemic. Humiliation can work on some strains of the virus, and furthermore, may help to socially quarantine infected individuals.

    If we can isolate the infected until their symptoms clear, or they die, we may still have a chance to stop this thing. Travel suggestions: Unless it is absolutely necessary, we recommend you do not travel to New Jersey, Las Vegas, San Diego, or Miami.

    -C-Baggin
    —-

    Well put, C.B. Look for Green Zoot Suits as an early warning outbreak sign.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Wednesday, April 29, 2009

    Yeeeeeeagghhhhhhhhh!!

    Gachhhhhhhh!!!

    This coupling just overpowered me with a douchesplosion of taint.

    To recover, I need a little more Ass Pear La Plante.

    Ah… much better.

    Is there anything Ass Pear La Plante can’t cure? Rickets? Lupus? The Israel/Palestine conflict? The Lohan’s herps?

    Yeah, not the most articulate follow up to my earlier ruminations. I blame the sugar high from this tasty package of Hostess Sno Balls.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Wednesday, April 29, 2009

    Ass Pear La Plante Ruminations


    Over my bowl of Kellogg’s Smacks this morning, I was contemplating the corporeal inspiration of Ass Pear La Plante.

    In Beyond the Pleasure Principle, Freud describes the two drives that motivate the psyche. Eros, the sex drive, which becomes our motivation for the interplay between creativity and the desire for sexual pleasure. And Thantos, the death drive, the push for the pleasure of destruction borne of the inchoate fear of our own demise. Our deaths a form of release. Like orgasm. Or watching Ryan Seacrest beaten with a shovel by angry thugs.

    What then to make of Freud’s argument for the Death instinct? Where, then, can we locate the “Douche Drive?”

    In the age of the simulacrum and the ascendancy of the market system, do we mark our bodies as both Eros and Thantos through product inscription? The tattoos of masculinity, the adornments of ‘bling, the name brand t-shirts, are they meant to render our skin an artistic canvass?

    Canvasses do not decay. A body marked by bling and hair rendered crystalline by gel can not grow old, can not grey, can not die. The market sells us sex and eternity, with two caveats — financial replenishment and delayed gratification.

    The next product will lead to sexual fulfillment. The next piece of body art will transform the human into post-human.

    And all this time, Ass Pear La Plante. Calling out to me.

    For a squeeze.

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    # posted by douchebag1
    Wednesday, April 29, 2009

    Xenu Shushes The Crimson Goose


    HCwDB of the Week winner Crimson Goose?

    HCwDB legend Xenu shushes you.

    For even in the presence of less than A-list suckle thigh, Xenu is more douche than you will ever be.

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    # posted by douchebag1
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