Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

HCwDB of the Week

Ladies, gentlemen and HCwDB regulars – it’s official. The unholy pairing of the US Olympic Synchronized Nodding Team and Grecian Greta get The Nod.

Medusa Oblongata rails:

“The tattoos are what drive my selection. Double-outline star tatt on the neck. You’ve made the decision to have an un-hideable tattoo. And you chose to broadcast to the world that you wanted the most unoriginal, least interesting and biggest pain-in-the ass-to-do, especially on the neck, tattoo. Congratulations. You have won the Fail Lottery…Let me add that Grecian Greta got a great boob job, especially considering how thin she is. Grets, gain 5 pounds and no one will have a clue that you weren’t born with those, trust me on this. And call me. I got those nipple vibrators we were talking about.”

Country Molestern and his Reverse Cowgirls prance their Boot-Scootin’ Boobies into a distant second place.  Crusty curmudgeon Hermit, in spite of his vote, states:

“The closest this cowpoke ever came to ridin’ the range was when he “got a long little dogie” while watching Brokeback Mountain.”

Toolio Twice and Siam Suki take bronze, both in this context and on their epidermis (epidermii?).  Sergeant Scrote Stain opines:

“I cast my vote for Toolio Twice because I’m positive that he has a to-scale picture of “Criss-Cross” shaved into his pubes… Normally, I’d be more inclined to support a man wearing a jean jacket, but this pud-stump has disgraced even the most earnest of sleeveless jackets, the denim vest.  “Faux Earnesty”?  What has this douchey world come to? If it weren’t for the calming nature of Siam’s plumped pillows, I’d have beaten a defenseless hobo to death with my bare hands for inspiring Toolio’s stupid wardrobe.”  <–Watch yourself, Hermit.  Stay safe, Brah.

Taking it on the chin with a distant fourth place finish is Larry the Lavender Love Lizard and his wolf-jawed vixens.  Veteran mocker from down under, Tall Guy, admits that while he’d throw another chin on the Barbies:

“…Larry’s hair coupled with his blank expression push him over the line. Which in time will probably be the unemployment line.”

The US Olympic Synchronized Nodding Team may have climbed atop the podium for this event (and by “podium” I mean “one another”) but can they propel the luge of douchocity long, fast and hard enough down the icy tunnel o’ shame, fueled by longing for the sinewy curvatures of Greta, into victory for the Monthly?

Tune in next week; same poo time, same poo channel.

And, by the way:  It was a gas bringing back for a limited time only the voted (and drunkenly tallied) weeklies, but it is TRULY an ass-load of work to do the write-up, count votes, and post the winner.  Only a few of us here (Me, Boss, Country Molestern) know first-hand the clenching pain of an assload.

So I did it, and had fun with it, but let’s face it: I only had to keep it up as long as Anna Nicole Smith’s groom.

So please curb the wailing and gnashing of teeth when The Boss returns from Walkabout and resumes hand-picking the weeklies.  The man is a professional.  Think of it as our own little electoral college.  Son.