HCwDB of the Week
In meditating on the hott/choad combos this week, I’m reminded of the 1985 classic teen comedy about smart kids, Real Genius. Mitch tells Chris Knight that he had a strange dream. Chris asks Mitch, “Was it a dream where you see yourself standing in sort of sun-god robes on a pyramid with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?”
Mitch answers no. And Chris asks, “Why am I the only one who has that dream?”
I have that dream too, Chris. Only it involves tiny jelly donuts, Purg Hottie and a tub of Crisco.
But you don’t want to hear my perverted sex fantasies. Nor even quotes from the classic that is Real Genius.
You want me to get to this week’s hottie/douchey finalists. And here they is:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Velvet Jones
Velvet ‘Bag not only features the classic receding hairline “comb-forward” but the Billy Dee Colt 45 smoove ‘stache of sexual healing.
Look at that ‘stache. I mean seriously. Stare at it. It’s almost hypnotic.
V.J. also reminds us that douchebaggery may have originated in the Italian/Guido universe, but it has spread its cross cultural impact like some airborn chicken flu pandemic.
We see ‘bags in Bangledesh. We see scrote in Scranton. We see choad in China. As such, Velvet Douche’s smooth chest and dog-tag bling reek with viral douchosity.
As to the other side of the hottie/douchey equation, Strawberry Cheesecake more than holds up her end of the bargain. God damn I’d like to wrap us up in plastic and ship us by Fedex to Mobile, Alabama. Five day delivery.
Her boobies astound. Just as her levitating dress astounds the late 1970s magical wonderkind Doug Henning. Oh come on. Like you haven’t heard of Doug Henning.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Boing!
One of the key meaning structures of performative douchebaggery involves what philospher Guy Debord describes as “Society of the Spectacle.”
This notion, expanded upon by Baudrillard and ultimately leading to two craptastic Matrix sequels featuring a zombified Keanu Reeves speaking incomprehensible gibberish about levels of reality, engages the notion that mass culture creates social meaning through intertextual visually enhanced spectacles of false construction.
The spectacle supercedes the actual. The spectacle within the simularcrum leads to … BOING!
When the cool mediums transmit meaning, we end up with… BOING!
Because the only way to snag the boobies in an image saturated visual culture is to… BOING!
BOING!
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Ricky
There’s something wonderfully charming about Ricky’s amateur douchebaggery. He’s not really a ‘bag on any physical level, and yet he scrotes with the desperate hunger of the wannabe choad trying to get down with the hotties.
So in a sense he’s charming.
In another sense, he’s an awkward douche.
I went back and forth on letting Ricky compete for the Weekly, but then I decided every so often we need a hero to the working class douchitudes. Ricky is Rocky. Ricky is The Washington Generals.
He has little chance of getting served a platter of Hott later that night. But he’s trying. Dammit, he’s trying.
Hero? Choadmunch? Both? That’s what we’re here to judge.
So here ya go, Ricky. You made it to the finals. What you do with it is up to you.
Honorable mention goes to DJ Poopy Head, who just missed the cut.
So while we have no clear Gators this week to trounce the competition like a hungry hungry hippo, we do have three divergent yet complimentary tropes with which to parse extended hottie/douchebaggery discussions around.
Is it the everyday underdog of ‘bag, Ricky? Or does the visual spectacle of BOING! confirm Baudrillard’s fears about a culture in which visual spectacle supersedes the real?
Or should we buy Velvet Jones’s smoove mustache a Colt .45 and bask in his Lando Calrissian echo?
That, my friends, is up to you.
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
