HCwDB of the Week
This is the last Weekly before the Monthly. But, unlike last week, this was a tougher week to cull down to three finalists, as Orange Color Space, M&Ms and even tiny little Diff’rent Scrotes were in the mix.
But I had to pick three, because thems the rules. Each of these three have strengths and weaknesses within their hott/douche polarity. But only one can triumph. So, without further abra, here’s your finalists:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: The Canker Twins
For overwhelming stench of douchosity, as well as surreal double vision, this pic would win hands down.
But where it suffers is on the female side of the equation.
A truly ascendant HCwDB pic should inspire diachronic rage. Polar axis of contradiction. It should make both male and female ‘bag hunters want to intervene with a fire hose on behalf of civilization.
These Bleeths are so far gone, it’s hard to want to intervene at all. More like walk away and slam one’s head into a stop sign.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Preppy ‘Bag
This pic grows on you.
Like a foot fungus. Or alien spores on Steven King in Creepshow.
At first you think Argylebag isn’t so bad.
But then you note the fauxhawk. The velvet shirt. The sneer and hint of facial pube. Then you notice Nadja, so sweet, so drunk, so Au Pair Swedish. And the stew is stenchy.
The wrongness consumes into a vortex of turd puddle.
But is Argylebag douchey enough to win the week? Still to be seen.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Still Life with Coors Light
While I considered naming this pic after Hieronymous Dousch’s The Garden of Scrotey Delights in honor of its absurdist and surreal art overtones, instead I will name it after Georges Braque’s Fruitdouche, Ace of Clubs.
This prom-like hottie/douchey absurdity is just too genius not to be allowed to fight for HCwDB of the Week Honors, even if the hott may be sporting a surprise package down below.
The composition is like surreal dada art. We have z-axis spatiality mixing with the blank negative space aesthetics of late 18th century Japanese printmaking.
And Coors Light. And a stupid-ass belt.
Lets just assume that the dress is simply curved in a strange direction and go with it.
But can a hott offering a potential John Holmesian surprise carry the dada aesthetic onward to triumph in the Weekly?
That, my friends, is up to you.
Which of these three gets a slot in the Monthly? Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
