Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Banana Boobie Eater

If there’s one cartoon I loved as a kid, it was Banana Boobie Eater.

Banana Boobie Eater totally blew away Robotech. Especially when the anime bananas went all crazy, kicked the crap out of some douche in a pink GSus shirt, and suckled on Danish Hott’s neck like a ninety year old Floridian sipping her prune juice.

Unless I’m getting my present moment and nostalgic childhood memories entangled up again.

I blame the teevee.

Friday Haiku

Three Cheers for Scroteface,
Pom Poms shake like firm grapefruits,
Buck Rogers Belt sucks.

Silver-clad pigtails
Defeating doucheosity?
Sadly, not this time

– sinfonian

Scroteface! Scroteface! He’s
Our Man! If he can’t do it,
Someother douchebag can!

— ronald mcdouchenald

Think they’re related
Certain they haven’t dated
Want boobs inflated.

– vacuum cleaner bagg

no alibi here
car show hotts cheer on
ford festiva fan

— let it bleeth

I love two blond hots
But Douchbag in the middle.
I DO NOT, DO NOT.

~BJL

Fire shirt on douchebag
What could save the shiny hotts?
My hope is real flames

– frozen orange douche

Zippy

At first, Zippy’s deceptively undouchey. Just your average Bennington student after a long round of herb enhanced Ultimate Frisbee.

Then you notice them. The unmistakable signs of douche. Hidden star tatts that summon the ethos of Fish Slap and Bra. Goofy ass hair bandana. Stupid wristband + watch combo.

Total douche? Not at all. But definitely stage 2.

I would slay Corsicans at the Battle of Ponte Novu while beat boxing in Gaelic just for the chance to tongue scrub Princess Hott’s linens after a sweaty and sleepless night. Hotts like that start wars.

John John

Now batting for the Yankees… the scrotestop… Hugh J. Douche…

Beware ladies. Rumor has it Athlete’s Foot can spread to other areas.

Jesus Criss

Celebudouche is always hard to quantify.

Does being famous inform scrotal facepuddery? Or is the need to shave patterns in the chin pubes and dress like a name brand refugee merely the mark of narcissistic ambition writ literal?

Pictured here we have noted scrotal prestidigitator, Criss Angel. We’ve previously seen Angel douching it up on the site here and here.

If John Mayer is conceptual douche, Criss Angel is the physical manifest. The Ghost of Douchemas future.

Mayerbag and Angelbag thus operate by what I like to term the Mangelbag Principle: the polarities at either end of the celebuscrotal spectrum that work in concert to spray putridude across our pop-culture wasteland.

Mayerbag embodies douchebag attitude as “sensitive irony” and without physical mark (until he added the sleeve tatts). Criss Angel is the inverse. Douche Manifest. Assbaggery gone supernova.

Between Mayerbag and Angelbag, we find the entire spectrum of celebutard paradigm. Scrotal performance in service of macking on Hollywood’s Five Easy Pieces (Simpson, Hilton, Spears, Lohan, Kardouchian).

And within their rainbow skittles of performative designer brand fakery, lies the entire paradigm that influences the mass replication of viral rankpooery.

Which is a roundabout way of saying he sucks.

h/t Go Fug Yourself

Inverted 'Bag Sandwich #412

As experienced douche-hunters know, Inverted ‘Bag Sandwich formation (IBS) is one of the more painful of the hott/douche cohabitations.

IBS, when two sexy boobie hotties sandwich a douche filling, is the inverse of Standard ‘Bag Sandwich formation (SBS), in which the hott is crushed between two slabs of scrote.

IBS formation has been known to cause Daoist Monks to set cute puppy wuppies on fire, and Hindi legend suggests that after viewing a particularly noxious IBS formation in Poona, India, Mahatma Gandhi forsook his vow of nonviolence, turned, and kicked a small orphan child in the nads.

No idea on if the Gandhi rumor is true or not. But would you be surprised?

Tighty Armani Sez…

Last month’s HCwDB of the Month winner, Tighty Armani, sez Bra is a punk.

He even brought his sidekick, “That Guy in the Jersey,” to this epic Scrote-Off.

Step aside ladies. It’s going down.

Wednesday Limerick

The once was a douche with a plight,
He showed a girl where he’d gotten a dog bite,
She rubbed it with glee,
For very drunk was she,
And didn’t know it was just a herp blight.

HCwDB of the Month: Bra!!

As if there could be any doubt.

Burnsy hits the nail on the head: Bra. Never has a ‘Bag done so much with so little and said so much by saying nothing.

I think that’s what captures the scrotal spirit of Bra’s ridiculousness.

Bra!! is everybag, yet ubersquat. It is generic, yet highly specific. It is standard Floridian beach douche, yet it is also the end of the world as we know it, and I feel like a Pepsi.

Red Cup Diaries explains:

While the other contestants ooze scrote juice so much they want to make me punch a baby. But while they are adorned in the gross regalia of douchebaggery it’s all just an accesory to emphasize their scrotieness. Bra on the other hand doesn’t wear his baggery like a costume. He wears it like a skin. His baggery is a living organism that is much a part of him as a kidney.

It was an overwhelming Bramination:

boatbutter: Broheim, it’s gotta be Bra, bro!
Charles Bra!!nson: If I were alive I’d vote for Bra!!
Ol’ Dirty Douchebag: He. Has. No. Trousers. Bra FTW.
Lord Douchemunguous: Just when I think there’s no answer, I see that damn facial expression on the High King of Broheim, and I know it has to be… Bra! FTW.

However, as much as Bra!! dominated the voting, the others found support. 92bpms makes the case for The high stenchosity of the Canker Twins:

But I can’t give it to Bra, as much as everything about him is the douche, I just can’t. Not when the Canker Twins walk this earth. For they are douches far beyond our comprehension. Their hotts have been seduced by the douche side and yet we would still rest our chins upon their awesome boobage much like the two hotts are doing. The Twins sandwich their hotts and cast side-eyed glances.

To the Dogon of Mali this is the representation made flesh of their sacred stars, Sirius A and Sirius B (binary stars which we know of as the dog star). In this the Dogon foresee the return of the little blue douches that once lived in the dwellings high up on the cliffs of the Bandiagara escarpment. Soon the Niger river will be booming with the sound of trance, pontoon boats will be tied together and affliction t-shirts will be worn by all men. Meanwhile the Canker Twins will return to Pro Clips for a trim of their Vanilla Ice lines.

Well said, 92. And Kyle Scrote Jr. explains the Pipster’s pure-douche rage:

Pippy FTW.

He walks with a elemental, boiled-down-to-its-bare- essence douchosity that just makes me want to walk on his face for 9 innings in Douchetin Pedroia’s spikes.

And lets not forget the perfection of Sexy Sky Bunny. She is glorious.

massengill explains why the rage of Turd Flush should trump Bra!!’s fratdouchey ways:

I don’t really dislike Bra all that much. Yes, he looks like a tool in many of his pictures. Yes, his sense of humor probably consists of quoting “Old School.” But he just doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy. Plus, I love his love of soda pop.

Turd Flush FTW. He is a real douche. A douche’s douche. Accessorizing with the mandana and accessorizing his mandana with sunglasses: that is compound douchedom.

But Bra!! is legend, and we must all respek. As viva la revolucion puts it:

I have seldom seen anyone embrace unbridled scrotebaggery the way Bra does. While the other three contenders make valiant efforts to mask their lack of communal worth through the facade of meaninglessness, the mocking contempt with which Bra pulls off the quintessence of the douche belies a force heretofore unseen on this site. It would be a crime to vote against such a raging maelstrom of scroticity.

And Old ‘Bag Eyes Frank Scrotnatra sums it up:

The smirk, the stars, the liter of cola.

Bra FTW.

A well earned double star tatt victory, and we’ll see Bra!! in the yearly, broheim.

Brahemian Rhapsody

Who will win the Monthly? We will find out tomorrow, but here’s a hint.

Can you bradict the winner?