Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

HCwDB of the Month: Jebus, Mary and Broseph

In a close runoff vote with The ‘Baggle Axe, the regs voted for the pun-filled Eurodouchery crypto gaybaggery of the Jebus and Mary Stain. And the The Semen on the Mount. And Creepy Euro gaybaggery.

The voters speak:

boatbutter: Jesus will forsake Jebus and so do I.

Douchelips: Jebus, Mary and Broseph for the win! (loss). They are epic douchebaggery. First century shirtless posing, hand gestures and a series of remarkably disturbing pictures. I would ride a donkey through the wilderness, sleeping in straw covered haystacks just for the chance to kick Jebus is the daddy long-legs.

Bob Mcadouche: Jebus. If god sent this douche to die for our sins, then ill take purgatory instead.

douche bagel: automatic jeebus for the win. never has anyone induced punch reflex quite like the jeebs

Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche: It is said that he once cured a ham. There have been reports that he turned ordinary wine into urine. His powers have reached down into all of us by turning our perfectly good food into vomit. He has even cast a veil upon our eyes to question his sexuality at times. How does he do all this? Because he is the chosen one.

Poultry Turd: When faced with life’s difficult decisions, it’s best to seek guidance from above. So, I asked the dude that lives in the apartment above mine, and his reply came down: “In the name of his father, the sun and the holy scrote, choose Jebus.”

soy bomb: If I ever saw this guy in public my first thought would be “Douchebag”, my second thought would be “why am I in this crack-den? Where’s the exit?” Then I would see Mary and remember why I slimed my way into the hell-hole in the first place. I was stalking her. Oh heavily-medicated Mary, won’t you let me hail you?

Wheezer: Verily, thou must remember the time of the Douchies, and that is the time of the Shavior. Mayhap only the Emost High Jebus and His Doucheciples wilt withstand the otherwise certain final victory of the one called Shathouse. Thou shalt have no other Scrote Gods before Him; Jebus is Risen!…..as has His personal bodily aroma.

Bag Margera: I’m not really religious or anything, but using religion to bag gorgeous Mary hotts, burns me up like a witch in Salem. Jebus FTW, and by W, I mean the Passion of Mel Gibson .

The Reverend Chad Kroeger: Jebus for the sin. Mary wails at the temple and God weeps for the children.

Douche Boyardee’s Cheese and Bagaroni:Something tells me if I drank Jebus’s Holy Water it would turn my intestines into a log flume.

Plowboy: Sure, we see plenty of steroidal, tattooed, Ed Hardy-wearing scrotum-poles, but Jebus has left behind all these earthly delights to form a whole new chapter of douchiness. This is where the devolutionary ladder forks, and we can expect to see more clowns like this to be spawned in the months to come…

Creature: Jebus… for he can do miracles… when he touches his cockk it turns to stone, marble to be precise, which impresses the ladies, until he touches it to them & it turns to linguine… wet slimey linguine

justadouchalo: I am currently seeking papal dispensation to hunt down and kill Jebus but, until I get word from the Vatican, off to the yearly he goes.

smackdouche: Jebus: (humbly,quietly) I want them to vote for the most deserving. Mary: (commanding) JEBUS REQUIRES YOUR VOTES!!! CAST THEM NOW!!! Who am I to contradict Jebus and Mary?

Fyodor Dostedouchesky:Jebus for the monthly and hopefully a nailing to a cross.

Justin: Jebus may be gay, but his outlandish, unrelenting level of douche-traits and searing hotts makes him the best candidate for crucifixion. Nail him up!

dbBen: He tells the hotts that he’s Chaldean. It’s just familiar enough to be mysterious. And because they buy it, it makes me want to sucker punch a land-mine.

As Peter, Paul, Randy, Geranium and the rest of the Jackson Five Disciples once observed, gay or simply asexual like his namesake, Jebus is the only path to pure douchescrote. But a close second, The ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa sisters:

Professor ‘Baglioni: Why ‘Baggle Axe? He’s wearing a metallic helmet (the aviators, shoulder tatt, and leather pants don’t help either.) And the Marissa sisters (particularly the one to the far right) are charming in that girl-next-door sort of way.

Et Tu Douche?: Me thinks he’s PTP but none the less he is Douche. He was probably drinking a protein shake, after having gotten back from the Jim Naseum when his fellow unemployed Chippendale Bro Christian called to tell him “Hey I know this isn’t the big leagues like we were used to but I found you a gig, and at $50 and free finger food, it’s a no brainer. All you have to do is show up at this bachelorette party, at the Holiday Inn Monroeville as a gladiator”.

armydouche: With deep thought and much inward contemplation, by which i mean gouging my eyes with a spoon, I cast my vote for baggle ax. For only he has the unholy leather pants of GSR, the shoulder tat of douchitude and an enchanted golden helmet. He’s gotta get bonus points for that helmet….

Douchey Lewis and the News:GSR, check. Strange tat, check. Tight leather pants with large belt buckle, check. Golden pith helmet, check.

Amerigo Vesdouchey: I must cast in for the ‘Baggle Axe and explain why. He is tainting the lovely Marissa #2 in the middle. Luckily, M2 is well grounded and will survive a few moments of axeposure, but the ‘Baggle Axe’s brazen efforts to taint the sentient Marissas will be rewarded with my vote.

Peter Ilyich Doucheovsky: Leather pants? Check. GSR? Check. Obnoxious tattoo of what appears to be either a Roman Centurion or a toilet brush? Check. Gnawable Amanda Bynes hott on his right? Check times three.

Troy Tempest: I go with Baggle Axe. His baggery is excessive, and while the Marissa sisters aren’t classic hotties, they are all sweet and attractive young women who have no business being in the same zip code as Baggle Axe. Baggle Axe is exactly what we must stop with this website – stop the advance of mindless baggery that is infecting sweet young things like the Marissa sisters.

Wedgie: Baggle Axe. Anyone with enough stones to wear the same battle helmet the flying monkeys wore in Flash Gordon deserves some props.
Well done, jackass.

The ‘Baggle Axe nearly pulled it out, but the power of Crust compels us. In third place, the real world putzitude of Smugger John and Valencia:

Medusa Oblongata: Smugger is just a slovenly plastic bag full of cream cheese. The only thing worse than a douchebag is a lazy douchebag. And I’d venture a guess that Valencia goes both ways. I gotta chance! Smugger John FTW.

I R A Darth Aggie: Smugger John FTW ’cause Valencia has the least amount of clothing.

End the Haberdouchery: My vote goes to Smugger John and Valencia. The weakest douche of the bunch, but the hottest hott. And isn’t mocking douchery in the presence of hott what we’re all about here? Sure he’s not slathered in Preparation H, but he is choad nonetheless.

Mr. Scrotato Head: Because Smugger John’s neck tatt says “Chop Here”, he gets my vote in the monthly.

And in a solid but distant fourth place, our Canadian Superdouche Posse and Slutty Hott Kimberly, The Mountinis:

Battlescrote Gallactica: A super nova of tribal tats on tanned, roided skin, ultra-gay hair, a six pound watch, Afflictionish shirts, women’s sunglasses, bling chains and fake diamond earrings send these two tools straight into the Douche Stratosphere.

Indiana Choad and the Temple of Douche: I must go with the Mountinis, for they have brought shame and disgrace to my nation’s flag. All the others are worthy choads, but only one has smeared their filth across an entire nation.

Sack O Douche: Kimberly sticks it out like a champion slut. And I thank her for that. The Canadian Bro Bags are all confused with the tough guy/metro/gay/ roid bag look. I like it so much I say congrats you Canadian taints!

RAPETIME: . F@ck you, Canada. I thought you were cool, man. Plus that Kimberly has one fine bumper.

Sir David Douchenborough: No, as much as it shames me, the Moutinis, with their Hindenmoobs, represent the best example of “Run-audiger selection” in that all of their features demonstrably reveal that they are so disconnected with the actual consequences of their bag traits that they genuinely believe that this somehow enhances their standing and competitive advantage.

Indeed, Canada has let us down. But this is Jebus Christ Doucherstar’s time to shine. And by shine, I mean flush. Lets let Baleen take us home:

Finding it difficult to decide among our contestants, I ventured to the bathroom to take a shit. I thus employed an old ritual taught to me by the bag hunters of old. I examined the brown offering in the ceramic bowl. It had a silt like appearance and pungent yet fresh aroma. Very smooth, very noxious. By divination of my poo, I choose Jebus ftw.

The Divination of Baleen’s Poo is enough to settle this one. We’ll see Jebus and Mary in the Yearly. And the DB1 flies back to Los Angeles.