Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Book

As many of you know, your stubbled commentator on all things boobie/Armani is writing a book parsing the levels, permutations and affectations of the unholy wrongness of hottie/douchey coupling. I’ve gotten into the meat of the writing the past few weeks, and by “meat” I mean staring at enough pictures of vile douchebaggery in pre-sexual ritualized coitus dances to castrate a flock of geese.

But between keeping the site side-boobed as well as writing the book, I’ve been busy. Writing a book ain’t like dusting crops, boy. You could wind up too close to a semicolon, or fly through a run-on sentence, and find yourself floating home.

But the book is underway. And it’s going to be douchetacular.

In the next few weeks I will be putting up various poetry posts for the book. This will be your chance to exhibit as much creative energy in analyzing and mocking the hott/scrote as you’ve come to harness in your time here at HCwDB. Post your best poems in the three categories (limerick, haiku, epic), and the five best will be published in the book. You won’t get paid, but I promise you a hearty handshake and a can of PBR. And a credit. And a signed copy of Pumpy’s new autobiography, Meeeearggggghhhh.

Also, if anyone was involved in the snapping of one of the legendary pics on the site, be it in the Hall of Scrote, or just a popular pic, email my sorry ass and let me know, so I can include it. The book is going to have a balance of new and already posted pics, and I’m going to feature some of the classic HCwDBs we’ve grown to know and love. Or poo on, as the case may be.

Speaking of poo, I refuse to believe the goregous poo-holes pictured next to CBGBs-Bag above produce anything but strawberry ice cream.

EDIT: Pic was switched out after a request to take the CBGBs one down from one of the hotties.

Tonguebaggin'

Ah, the tonguebag.

The gateway drug for an aspiring scrote taking his first steps into a larger world of creepy awkwardness. When ‘baglings attempt to lick the forehead of a cutie to prove their douchebaggy worth. Although from the looks of this shirtless freak, he’s already achieved a solid level of douche maturation.

Hottie appears to be cuter than the awkward angle suggests. She’s got a Pocahontas thing going, which I’m a big fan of.

I’m also a big fan of YooHoo. So sugary. So chocolatey. So milky. It’s like fresh air in a bottle.

On an unrelated note to the Shirtless Wonder pictured here, while I was asked to pull the pics of Club Douche a few months ago, there’s no rule that I can’t link to his douchey ass in action on another site. Now THAT is a Club Douche in action.

Douche Synergy

People frequently ask me when exactly Douche Synergy occurs in a longtime HCwDB coupling. While there is never a scientifically quantifiable moment when Bleeth State has been achieved in a hottie exposed to too much wonky Fratchoad douchebaggery, one givaway is the dual ‘bag hand gestures.

Like synchronized diving among the Hawaiian Monk Seals off the coast of Waikiki or early mimicry in the freshly born Milky Storks of Kuala Lumpur, hottie/douchey call and response in the form of ‘bag hand gesture implies late stage courtship and familiarity. And thus, douchebaggery.

In other words, the state is terminal. There is no recovery. No, not even for Ted Theodore Logan here.

Jimmy McZebra

I love it when mid-western state school fratbags try to get funky on weekends.

Give it up, Jimmy.

Stop staring at the boobs and get back to finishing your Econ degree, you fifth year wankchoad. That job at Circuit City ain’t gonna wait forever.

The Douche is On Fire

The douche… the douche… the douche is on fire!! The douche… the douche… the douche is on fire!!

Wednesday Limerick

Two blondes found a douche who was whiny,
His Michael Stipe forehead was shiny,
He went for a dunk,
His underwear shrunk,
And now the whole world sees he’s tiny.

HCwDB of the Week: Lei Hotties and the Puberchoad

Wasn’t “Lei Hotties and the Puberchoad” one of those early morning, stilted, barely animated 1980s Hanna-Barbera cartoons? If not, it should’ve been. I used to love those things. The 4 frames per second animation. The barely animated lip-synching involving two alternating frames. Good times.

It was a dominant victory for the Lei Hotties, taking down The Fly and the now departed Color Him ‘Bagg with total destruction. But that’s what happens when three of the uber-hotts pose with a dude low riding his underwear enough to reveal the biological evolutionary product designed to keep his genitals warm.

‘bag-hater makes the case for Puberchoad’s dominant victory:

Which leads us to our winner, “Puber-choad.” You really piss me off. You’ve never worked out a day in your life, yet proudly display your waxed chest, “stylish” white underwear, exposed pubes, and try the tough guy look. You are as tough as a middle-aged bar-fly being hit on by an 18 year-old coed. The hottie/douche factor here is ridiculous. 1,200 virgins in a parallel universe were sacrificed to counter the atrocity done by this combo of ‘bag-gesturing gooberdouches molesting my future roommates. I may have to start using a 3-t’d hottt for these vixens.

Well said B.H. Or, as Bdub puts it:

Lei Hotties

6 young succulent boobies plus 1 lazy eye divided by bag pubes = RAGE

Indeed, Mortimer. Indeed.

But the late and unlamented ‘Bagg also generated passionate and voracious defenders, as with first time voter pocket douches:

But my God THAT HAT. Rhinestone-rocking, lip-pursing, bulbous-nosed, faux-distracted-look-giving choad gets my scrote. I mean, vote. The fact that such an item can be worn unironically, or even exists…sweet Jesus. THAT HAT must be acquired and thrown into the depths of Mordor. As it is written: One douche to rule them all, one choad to bind them, one scrote to bring them all and on the dancefloor grind them.

Nice verbal smackdown, P.D., and welcome to the site. The hat was pretty tremendous, and will be missed. The everpresent anonymous offers the all important female perspective while casting in for ‘Bagg:

I couldn’t decide between Lei Douch and Color Me Bagg. What gives the edge- the pubes, or the mandana/bedazzled hat combo? I have decided to use my point of view as a female. Which one of these guys would I run furthest from if they approached me in a bar– its gotta be Color Me Badd. After I spit my drink out lauging at him.

But then there was The Fly. douche wellington throws down the gauntlet for The Fly’s scrotey ways:

I has to be the Fly, all the way. While the Lei Hotties picture induces the most rage, The Fly stays truest (is that a word?) to the Douche modus vivendi. The bug glasses, ridiculous “I’m a Eurobag in training T-shirt”, ‘bag headbutt, and douche tongue, the Fly demonstrates his unflinching commitment to douchosity. You better believe that if her hand wasn’t around his neck, that collar would be popped. He also gets bonus points for trying to bring back a style that Bono – even in all his self-absorbed metrocity – abandoned like what, ten years ago?

Interesting how Bono keeps cropping up as a standard bearer for metro-douche. I always liked Bono but maybe we’ll need to consider his influence on modern douchebaggery as an important one.

But, in the end, three barely legals and a puberchoad were too much to overcome. peter makes the case for the triumphant and victorious Lei Hotties and the Puberchoad:

Lei Hotties. As others have said, it’s the one that pisses me off the most. Between their soft-lens (airbrush?) sweetness that stirs fires in my loins, contrasted with the slackjawed yokel with his gumpy expression and the peek of pubes (why in the blue hell?!?)….I just want to reach through the photo, strangle him, and then have my way with all three Hott. And by have my way I mean sex them up.

Well said, Peter. Another brilliant comments thread parsing three worthy, and quite different, hottie/douchey combos. Although it is sad to lose ‘Bagg to the ether, those are the casualties we take on the road to douche-victory.

So raise the Lei flower necklaces to the Tikki Hut and kick puberchoad in his freshly minted nether regions. They’s this week’s Winner. Punch them a ticket for the monthly.

Color Him 'Baggless

Ah well, so it goes when confronting the ‘baggery of Myspace:

———
Someone put up my pics without my Approval. I need them taken down asap “color me bagg” & “color me bag part2″” If the pic arent down i will take Further Action Thank You.
———

So while we lost the ‘bagg, we’ll always have JoeyPorsche and Acapulo.

No More "The Sign"

Popped collar scroad from “The Sign” writes in:

———
yea i’d appreciate it if u took this down asap
—————-

Of course.

Let me make it up to you. Have some Peaches.

Gillette Mach Douche

I blame this atrocity of a pic on mens fashion magazines. Somewhere between the airbrushed pages of glossy color male model preening, and the echo effect of wannabes trying to emulate the poses, lies douche.

Yes, kids. Men are shaving their pits.

This is the world we live in.

A world of douchuous rank ‘baggery on a cross country culturally shredding rampage of greased heads, frosted hair and the douche-face. A cultural blight of preening men seeking to recapture and supercede the attractiveness and normative focus that used to locate around the tropes of a pretty young female.

Caught up in this gender inversion post-feminist inverted masquerade are confused and bufuddled hotties, as seen pictured here.

For now the Hottie faces a feminized masculinity, competing with her for our societal gaze. In this way, the male masquerades under the constucts of femininity as the means to reclaim his masculinity. Which is another way of saying he’s a douchebag.