Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Ask DB1: Saving the Bleeth Part. 2

Here’s another pic of Lonely ‘Bag Hunter’s asian hott from Saturday’s Ask DB1.

Here, she looks remarkably less Bleethed out than in Saturday’s pic. She’s pure like snowflakes, no douche could ever stain. Yet her choice of choad remains stenchy.

I’m going to revise my judgment and say that she can still be redeemed from a life of douchebaguette.

And by redeemed, I mean my giving her collection of Barbies a steam cleaning just for the chance to pass within fifty yards of her fifth grade teacher’s proctologist.

Where's Waldouche?

While you’re mulling your vote in the Monthly, I thought I’ve give you one of the hardest Waldouche hunts we’ve had.

Somewhere, in this pic of four drunk sorority girls, I’ve carefully hidden a douched up Aqua DJ Waldouche with dorky stripey cap.

Look closely.

Can you find him?

HCwDB of the Month

Last month’s winner was the mighty Bra!!, who rode a bevy of hotts and tasty cola beverages to victory. Who will win this month’s Monthly and take their slot in the Yearly during the 2008 Douchies in December?

That, fellow ‘bags, hotts, ‘bag hunters and albino midgets, is up to you.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: The Smearkcat

Now you might say a vote for the Smearkat is a vote for large succulent tatas that could feed a small army of hungry babies.

And you’d be right.

But lets not discount the power of grease-scrote at work in the simultaneous kissy face, exploding grease hair and stupid-ass tie.

The douche is high in this one.

As with every Monthly winner, the hott and choad must commingle in a noxious stench of wrong. A steaming poo-pile of all that rots our collective soul from within.

The Smearkat accomplishes this on all fronts.

And by fronts, I mean “look between the two giant melons.”

Hug me.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: Zippy The Scrotehead

Zippy clearly won the HCwDB of the Week on the power of sultry aristocratic upper west side Lacy Underalls Hottness.

But, as with the Smearkat, Zippy’s scroteyness can’t be understated.

While he first appeared to be a hippie Bennington ultimate frisbee playing tool, the signs of a deeper douchosity are unmistakable.

The star tatts.

The hair fro.

The wristdanna.

And Jr. Ubiquitous Red Cup.

Note her hand on his stomach. This is real deal hottie/douchey wrongness, no PTP (Paid to Pose) artificiality. Thus, it is stomach punch wrong.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: Truman Coyote

This pic grows on my soul like a fetid pollen.

It hurts.

At first the pic kind of appeared on the site, but didn’t make a huge ripple. But this dude with a weaker chin than Ed Norton has grown with every subsequent viewing.

And while I’m not a fan of the Reese Witherspoon uber-wasp hotts, blonde is delightful.

Her curves are fantastic.

His tatt + underwear is pollutant.

The EPA just called. They’re declaring this a something something… you get where I’m going with that one.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: The Metaphysical Hooligan

The strongest candidate, and the odds on favorite to win the Monthly.

But is the hott enough? Yesterday’s pic argues absolutely. I find spitfire Italians who would scream at me and embarrass me in restaurants to be all sorts of exciting.

But can Carly compete with Lacy Underalls, Reese Hotterspoon or Boobsy McBoobs?

Or does the stench of shirtless nipple-pierce more than compensate?

That, my friends, is up to you.

This is the HCwDB of the Month.

Choose wisely. And lets dedicate this Monthly to the late, brilliant and irreplaceable George Carlin, who died yesterday at the age of 71. You will be missed.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

Sunday Thugmani Exchange

Nothing says “Thug” like lime green matching shirt/mandana and carefully sculpted facial hair.

If only Kubrick had known that the real droogs of the future would be designer name-brand douchewanks. A Clockwork Orange would’ve been a whole different experience.

She is mint oreo love. In fact I’m almost sure these two have appeared on the site before. But either way, I would dip her in chocolate and make egg cremes.

I can’t tell which is more upsetting, this pic, or the The Oompa Lady someone sent me.

Yikes.

EDIT: Yup, it’s The Metaphysical Hooligan and Carly Hott, looking mighty fine. I almost missed it, that’s what I get for a weekend of Night Train cocktails. Props to Don’t Wheeze the Douche! for catching it so quickly.

Lobster Tail?

Could it be?…

Is this?…

The Ab Lobster himself???

Pointing. At. A. Hott??…

My whole paradigm has been disrupted. The finger has moved towards another. It’s one small step for douche, one giant leap for douche-kind.

The Greatest European Hero

Oh William Katt, how I loved you in The Greatest American Hero. How low you’ve fallen.

What?

I can’t make William Katt references? Would you prefer Spencer Pratt?

And on an unrelated note, here’s the takedown email for The Mourning Fathers:

can you please take down the morning of fathers pic my girlfriend and i dont want us up there

Ask DB1: Saving the Bleeth

Lonely ‘Bag Hunter writes in:

—-
Dear DB1,

– Lonely ‘Bag Hunter
—-

The process of saving The Bleethed Out Hott is a complex one that requires patience and dedication to process. It is covered extensively in my book, being released on July 8th, but available for pre-order on Amazon.

The first step is to mock her choice of douchewankery with ironic sarcasm delivered from a safe distance. The second is to help reveal what is already in front of her — to make visible the douchery. What Heidegger describes as the philosophical effort towards the phenomenological.

In other words, render the structure of name-brand validation visible, and it will be like pulling back the curtain on the Wizard. She will see that what she desires is cultural capital rather than authentic, and the douche-poo will become seen.

However, with any late-stage Bleeth, we must also know when to walk away. When the douchebaguette can no longer be saved, and should instead be scourned. Judging by the pic you sent of her, she may sadly be lost.

Red Cup Friday

No ‘bags in this pic.

Just Hott Bubble Soup. And more URC’s than you can count.

It’s Friday, and after the unloading of saggy shirtless greasechoads on this site over the past few days, I thought we all needed a break.

So for the guys, jump on in and do a shot of Jager with Vanessa in the Bubble Bath. For the lady readers, hop on in, there’s plenty of room in there.

It’s Friday Night. And this pic is ‘bag free.

Except that dolphin looks suspicious. Is he making a douche-face? And is that Flipper Gesture #23?

Boobie Lick

The hott side of the equation in this pic can and should be debated. Her expression is scary. But I’m going to be generous and go with its a very unflattering pose on an otherwise decent Scandinavian au pair.

The douche side of this equation?

Uhm,…

Yes.

Where's Waldouche? Cabaret Edition

Somewhere, buried deep in this performative circus of Moulin Rouge upper stomach areas, I’ve carefully hidden a douched up hat tilt Waldouche.

Look closely.

Can you find him?