Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Not a Marine

While this shaved model scrote may not be an actual Marine, he did storm the beaches at Ft. Lauderdale on President’s Day.

And while the MILFS are hard to tell too much about, I’d wager there’s a Mature Sex-in-a-Can or two in there.

The Smell of D.J.

PIC DELETED

sniff… snifff…

Do you smell that?

It’s D.J.

Someone must’ve stepped in a pile. Everyone check their shoes.

Hookahs

I can’t tell what I love most about this pic, the trampy hotts, the ginormous mellon on Fwippy McSour in the middle, or the photographer who gave equal weight to the hookah when taking the pic.

Way to frame up the action properly there, Stieglitz.

The Ficus Head

When did the fauxhawks turn into actual mohawk/gel-plant sproutings?

And does this mean Kid from Kid and Play was a visionary ahead of his time?

I would let Svetlana verbally abuse me in broken English while I scrubbed her kitchen floor wearing only a potato sack and a mustache cut to look like Oates from Hall & Oates.

Because Oates rules.

Vote or Kissy Lips

Today is Primary Day in a bunch of states, so if you’re registered in either party, get yer ass to the polling booth and vote.

If you don’t, I’ll post more pics of this guy.

Millennium 'Bag

And the robot boy dreamed of one day being a human. But he was trapped in his crimson douched out artificial shell forever.

And, lo, he shed a metallic tear.

Which quickly shorted out the circuits carved into hair patterns on his douchey ass head.

Two Girls, Eight Red Cups

College.

Where today’s youth grow strong of mind and spirit.

Where young minds go to read Plato, Aristotle and Socrates.

Where two drunk sorority girls and a standard issue fratdouche stand around with nothing to do but pose in their underwear.

Oh College. How I miss thee.

And yes, Orange Bra needs to eat a bowl of beef chow mein.

The Hott and the Head Plant

Gazing at the Hott and The Head Plant reminds me of one important question:

Did I water my ferns this week?

The Smirky Nub

And while you’re considering your vote in the Monthly, he’s another pic of that smirky nub from Saturday’s “Where’s Waldouche.”

Nice Hitler Chin, douche-face.

HCwDB of the Month

We had two, count ’em two, Weekly winners called back due to Puss Penalties on behalf of the ‘bags in the pics, leaving two runners-up to fill in for the Monthly. That being said, this is still a tough vote, as there’s no clear favorite.

Once again I turn it over to you. Which of these four Weekly winners has just the right mix of noxious douchey bile and sexy boobie hott to call itself a Monthly Champion?

That, my fellow ‘bag hunters, is up to you.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: Gabehcuod

“Gabehcuod” was found on his typewriter, typed out in various patterns, before Wendy had to go running through the brush patterns in his hair.

Yup.

That’s the story of how Gabehcuod got his name.

Redrum, indeed.

Wendy has that sexy late 20s girl-next-door thing going, if you live in Vienna, with a killer body that used to be the gardener of the estate, and has always been the gardener.

Note Gabecuod’s use of the rare ‘bag hand gesture, The Stomach Possession (#204).

He is marking her womb area as his territory.

Very, very douchey.

Add in three rins per hand, roided up muscles, and the douche-face, and it’s par excellance of ‘baggery. And side boob.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: The Brick

Brick.

Brick lies on ground.

Brick evolves basic motor functions.

Brick grows arms and legs.

Brick becomes ambulatory.

Brick discovers tanning booth and muscle contests.

Brick grows stubble.

Brick finds brunette hott with which to prove his manhood.

Brick wears yellow bikini underwear.

Brick wins HCwDB of the Week.

But is it enough to win the Monthly?

Only Brick knows.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: Wally Playah

This is tough one for Wally Playah to win.

While he’s strong enough for a Weekly, his small-town standard douchosity is likely not enough to overcome the others.

Or could he be the underdog that could? The New York Giants of douchebaggery?

Perhaps.

Alls I know is Small Town Cornfed has one of the great bodies of this, or any other, online gawking session.

I would suckle her lambchop legs like a hungry zombie in a George Romero film.

I would do things.

Many things. To her. That she would mildly enjoy, while nostalgically remembering an ex-boyfriend who was better.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: The Boobermensch

Boob.

And a boob.

The understated douche factor on tri-pube face was not given its due on the first go-around for this couple.

Granted he doesn’t have any excessive hand gestures, hair or bling. Nor does he make the douche-face.

And the shirt really isn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things. Kinda stylish.

But her boob is carved from Granite by a the left hand of Michaelangelo and the right hand of God.

And so the Boobermensch is weighted to the hott scale. But do not underestimate those facial pubes.

They are rank.

So which one of the four is our Monthly winner?

That, my friends, is up to you.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.