HCwD of the Month: Dung Beetle
It was Dung Beetle in a douchetastic runaway mudslide victory. D.B. the D.B. absolutely trounced the competition, which was surprising as Labor ‘Bag, Disco Pilgrim and Spanky all offered a unique approach to the enormous stench of unholy hottie/doucheyness. As Mickey O’Douche broke it down:
Dung Beetle — here’s why. If I were magic-tastically transported to each one of these douche scenettes, only the DoucheBeetle would anger me to the point of taking the bag’s hip flask of Tag and beating him senseless with it. In Douche Pilgrim’s presence, I’d probably make some smart ass comment about how he needed the next size up on the next breast implant to do justice to the plunging neckline. I’d never stop laughing at Spanky — c’mon, even he’s laughing at himself. And as for the ultra lo budget K. Fed, I’d just wish him the best with that lo budget Brittney — you know sooner or later she’s chucking him over for a new boytoy.
But the Beetle. And the breastalicious hottie (deal clincher here: you can see her thinking “if I get sugar, you get me” — true mark of a DB’s hookup strategy). Everyone has ID’ed the Beetle’s flashpoints, but I especially like the kungfu grip that he’s exerting on the hottie….for she was thinking about making a break for it, before terminal bleething set in).
Nicely done smackdown, M.O’D. Undouchesided struggles on a deep metaphysical level with their choice:
So, I am left with Dung Beetle and Labour Day bag. Between the two of them I keep coming back to that chest, that glorious chest of dung beetle’s hottie. She appears so natural. Labour Day’s hottie is at the beach, in a bikini and here she is wearing more makeup than a drag queen. Is that not a sure sign of bleathdom?
For me the contest is over, Dung wins. Everyone I am sure has to walk down this dark dark path by themselves as no rules can exist at this level to help determine the douchiest. This conflict must be solved at a primal level and I apoligize for taking so long to work through it. I must go wash now.
Rex struggles with Disco Pilgrim’s clothing before casting in with D.P. (wait, that sounds wrong):
For me it comes down to dung beetle or disco pilgrim, since they are both proudly posing in what they consider to be the height of their sartorial splendor. They are dressed to impress, and the women in the photos are almost assuredly “with” these douchebags. While dung beetle is getting all the votes, largely based on the merits of his companion, I am troubled by both of them. While most seem to be enamored of this woman’s chest, to me it appears as if her breasts are actually originating somewhere under her scapula. In fact, she seems to be malformed in a way that mimics the dung beetle’s facial deformity. Almost as if they were genetically engineered (using slightly faulty technology) around some presupposed ideal of beauty. Her with the large rack, he with a manly jaw. Thus, I think they are both proto-clones synthesized in a beta version of the technique that will ultimately lead to the replacement of all of us with a master race of soul-less droids. The absence of any “real” people in the photo does not offer any evidence to disprove my hypothesis.
And how come there is no support for the disco pilgrim? It has all been said before. There is not a scrap of clothing, a sole accessory, a square inch of his flesh that does not scream douche. While each of the other 3 is either more threatening or more downright scary (that’s you, Mr. Spanky) the pilgrim is the douche.
Punchin Bag throws some love (and be “love” I mean spew) Labor Day ‘Bag’s way:
Labor Day Bag makes me want to swallow my own teeth.
Every douche on the list is a super douche for sure. But this prick is the kind of uber douche that probably carries a picture of himself in his wallet. Taken when he was 8 months old and he’s instinctively doing bag hand gesture #54. And so he carries it around to show hot chicas like this one that he was born to douche.
But rjdub brings it home for the Beetle and seals the deal:
My vote is for Dung Beetle. His baggetry is deep enough it is blurring my vision. Although Labor Day is a Paul Bunyan sized douche, I think Beetle Bailey runs away with it like a Kenyan in a marathon. Add in the superb chest on the lady he has his greasy snubs on and it makes me want to self inflict a puke by stepping into a WNBA locker room after a double over time dual to the end.
So lets raise D.B. and the absolutely perfect hottie in his G.I. Joe Douche-Fu Grip to the rafters, where only Glinty currently resides (because I’ve been too hung over to actually conduct these contests every month). Although I did give James Blunt or “The BluntBag” an automatic “D.B. of the Month” status in August after “You’re Beautiful, You’re Beautiful” sent me into uncontrollable spasms of violence.
As to Pat, don’t you people worry your androgynous little heads, he will be back in a very special HCwD of the Week contest tomorrow.
As for Danny Bonnadouchey clamoring for another “HC” faceoff, we did do a Hottest of the Hot contest back in July with 10 pics of utter lusciousness, so maybe we’ll do another one of those. That’s where we focus more on the HC side of the ledger rather than the head pounding noxious putritude of the douche factor. Mmm… might be time for one of those, although ten was perhaps too many to include (I got carried away with keeping all the hotties in play).
Fantastic work, people. We are doing God’s bidding. The slog may be painful at times. The douchebaggery may cause deep soul searching and existential angst. But the hotties are out there, looking, well, hot. And the combinations must continue to be explored shining the light of truth on their noxious fumes as only we can. And if we can get drunk on the ‘Train while we’re at it, all the better.
