Wednesday, February 21, 2007

HCwD of the Week: Pumpy


This week’s vote brought up an interesting debate about defining douchosity. Pumpy challenged convention through the sheer force of his douche-face, as other than his inflated shirtlessness and boob grabbing douchiness, he lacked the requisite bling, popped collar and assorted facial patterns to qualify as “classic douche.” While the creepy Stallone looking Rambag represented all that is the douche plague in classic form. His giant scary arm haunted our dreams for days.

And yet Pumpy crushed the competition. This suggests that douchitude is morphing from the physical world into the ethereal. From object to conceptual. This is not to say Pumpy lacked the physical spew inducing noxiousness of classic ‘bag, his boob hand grab along was ‘Bag Hand Gesture #29, only that his mauling of his hottie seems to come from a more spiritual place. And by spiritual, I mean spewitual.

Heh. Spewitual.

sleeperbag sums up the Pumpy love, and by love I mean ‘roids.

Pumpy wins, with his vacant expressionless look as he tries to milk the hottie. He’s almost dead to the world. It’s as if he’s asking himself, “How does being a shirtless muscle-bound groper fit into Jersey eschatology?” Or not. Either way, he’s embarking on the same steps that led another shirtless muscle-bound groper to the California governor’s mansion.

Nicely put, SB. joey buttadouchebag keys in on the boob grab + muscles combo as too much to overlook:

Pumpy. Anyone who lays a meatgrabber on a boob for a picture is a grade-A DOUCHEBAG. And the HC gets props, too. For hotness only, of course. Allowing someone to grasp your boob for a picture is douchettebaggery.

And Indiana Douche and the Last Douchebag keys in on just what sends Pumpy over the edge:

Pumpy is raw douche. He doesn’t have much in the way of the standard douche accoutrements. But he does have that one thing in common to all world class douchebags: total indifference to the hottie. Look at the way he casually grabs her tit, as if it were just another melon to be cupped. His indifference speaks volumes. Compare his indifference to the monumental indifference of Donkey Douche when confronted with the classic rack. They are the same. He knows he can have this tit and everything attached to it any time. And we can’t. Because we are not douchebags of the highest order. He wants to infuriate you with his casual grope. And he succeeds. Oh yes, he does.

Well said, Indy ‘bag. New ‘bag hunter sasquatch struggled with Pumpy and Harry but ended up casting in with the classic scrote of Rambag:

Pumpy is a complete gorilla. But I see little that is douchey about him. In fact, he almost looks like a Marine enjoying his 3-weeks leave, which might explain the 100-yard stare he’s got… while CLUTCHING A HOTTIE’S BOOB.

Harry is just gross. Period. He’s a tard who, like many have already pointed out, just lucked out that the drunk chick happened to use him as a LaZboy when his friend had the camera ready.

Rambag is a classic douchebag. Look at the pretty-boy pose, the tiny trail of vertical pubes under his lower lip, the dogtags, the sleeveless T-shirt… Good god, the grease!

I give Rambag my vote.

As sasquatch notes, the hirsute Harry Beaver’s hipster irony ultimately served to defeat him, proving that true douchitude knows no self reflexiveness. Although bmt makes the case for the Beaver, using the brilliant term, “The Oberlin Strain”:

Alas, I’m voting for Jason Lee bag, aka Harry Beaver. He has shown us a new kind of douche, one free of traditional markings. Like a virus mutating to adapt to new drugs, the douchebag is not limited to sleeveless tees and dogtags. I call this new substatum the Oberlin Strain. Part hippie (the true self-obsessed douchebag), part hipster, this evolving sub-species tries to sneak past us and into the panty realm by communicating to women through dress and grooming modes that he’s safe, he’s sensitive and he’s got an ear for music. This disgusts me. Instead of clubbing hotties in the head and dragging them back across the briges and tunnels in SUVs, the Oberlin Strain takes the opposite approach.

And 23 Skidouche sets up a smackdown, Stallone style:

I think that Pumpy is the Ivan Drago to Rambag’s Rocky. The former is a chemically-enhanced Aryan douching machine. Everything he hits, including this Tara Reid hottie here, he destroys. He must break you. However, the latter appears to be a working-class, slow-witted Italian greasebag. I think Rambag’s blue-collar work ethic wins out in the end. Rambag is not human: he is a piece of iron.

But as the always present anonymous sums it up:

Pumpy in a landslide. No really can somebody please push Pump into a landslide?

Indeed, Mortimer. Indeed.

# posted by douchebag1

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