HCwDB of the Week: Pukey Bowie and Hott Jenn
There were Bropecs and Scarf Fail. Strapperface and Ziggy the Sneery Mug Guy. There was even Granpa Chin.
But none of the past two weeks of Hottie/Douchey cohabit quite made me spit on a nun and bitch slap a penguin quite like Pukey Bowie, he of the rocker douche genus, and Hott Jenn’s giggley giggles.
Not even the closest runners up (and likely 2011 Douche Award nominee in something), the rank Captain Lubing and perfect Tracey Gnaw.
With a two week backlog to go through, as last week was the Monthly, it came down to which douche was most punchworthy in presence of tasty hott.
And Pukey Bowie, with his rockerbag assrankery, his everything that pisses you off in the post college years, combining with tasty curvy Hott Jenn, was just too much piddle out the rear of a poodle.
So while it’s an early Monday morn, and your humble narrator is stumbling around his living room trying to remember how to make coffee, even with a sweet new Keurig machine, this is an award well deserved.
Mark the Puker Bowie and Hott Jenn as the first and well deserved entrant in the next HCwDB of the Month.
And the DB1 for Cocoa Puffs.
His fail goes to 11.
Cauliflower ear is a bitch.
Ground control to Major Douche, I fuccen hate you.
Ashes to ashes, funk to funky so on and so forth.
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Hott not that hott, but douche definitely douchey.
Gotta give him props for the denim wrist band. And by props, I mean our collective, derisive scorn.
Jenn reaches down his pants, but finds only a foil-wrapped cucumber.
I like the dog tags with “Lenny” in giant letters. Just like they gave him in basic training.
The ball of whipped cream (flower? earmuffs? david bowie’s splooge?) just seems to be hovering in midair next to his ear. It doesn’t seem to be attached to his finger or anything else. The laws of physics are being defied and it bothers me.
On the other hand, as long as the Caps keep winning it’s fine with me.
Even young Ellen Barkin hot can not make me smile this good ‘morrow and this dude is making my headache worse, The bad thing about rehab is not having any oxy to kill the first hangover in two decades. Fucking retarded brother thought he could drink more tequila. Fucking retarded me proved him wrong. Fucking mother is mad I ruined Easter, again.
Without even knowing what it is, I’m pretty certain that either having, or discussing a “Keurig machine” is a db signifier.
Ain’t Mondays a bitch, DB1?
This chick is the kind I like. This guy is so douchey he’s not even worth my scorn.
Jenn may not be that hott, but she gets major bonus, I mean boner, points for that boozy look that says, “I rarely wake up before noon, but when I do, I usually need a GPS to tell me where the hell I am.”
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Pukey looks like a poor man’s Neil Young. And if you have seen Neil Young lately, this is really, really bad news for Pukey. But probably good news for anyone awaiting an organ transplant (except for a liver – they’d be better off using a potato).
I think I overdosed on Peeps last night. I just don’t feel right.
Mr. Reeve is going to die from Peep Poisoning. Those things are so God-awful my dog puked them out. Son.
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Veterinary fact.
And easy does it on that sugar cereal DB1, its not called Live-abetes.
Definite douche. Hott’s smugness rather off-putting.
On another subject: we’re just about to be inflicted with Jersey Shore here on Australian TV. The station which opted for the franchise is running promotions featuring something called “The Situation”. Whatever happened to heroes like Magnum PI, Jim Rockford et al? Sheesh, a show dedicated to lobster abs? Quite wrong.
That is not cauliflower ear, nor is it a flower behind his ear. The mysterious white ball is , in fact, a dollop of fumunda cheese that Pukey just pulled out of Jenn’s ass crack. No matter how “hott” a gal like Jenn appears to be, by being attached to a fuccen douche like Pukey she possesses a dirtiness that lurks just below the thin veneer of hotness. She’s a dirty hott….
@ Tall guy
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Heroes like Kojack, Columbo and Roy Clark from our youth and more recently Andy Sipowicz and Adrian Monk have been co-opted to the creativity dust bin ever since that Hollywood writer’s strike a few years ago.
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As a result of the drought of new episode driven shows, Hollywood executives found out they could live without creative, inventive, intelligent writing and plot lines and could toss a camera into a room full of illiterate , impolite and usually mind-altered young people and have enough conflict in personalities that a story didn’t need be told. Conflicts didn’t even need to be resolved.
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One of the best examples of this is “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” , a television show based on taking the lowest intelligence, clueless male they can find and showing how he disrespects his girlfriend who inexplicably stays with him in the relationship. Drivel , yet highly rated by cable TV comparisons through the use of a witty backstory and the shock of a proper English Gentleman narrating the greasy goings on.
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The mentioned example is not unlike when Jane Goodall set up her camera to observe chimps
hey i can fit a 30M rebar through his mouth!
I concur, Boss, this is indeed the picture of the week.
Now, if you ever decide to change your one-way ticket to type II diabetes, I have some books by Gary Taubes for you to read.