Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Poetry Thursday

Oh Douche with the douche-face,
Your sneer I’d like to mace,
Hip Hop shirts don’t change your race,
And that earring belongs to Grace.

Oh Holy Cleavite on the right,
on Perky Kim you are a delight,
You’re pale and tasty in the moonlight,
And I’d lick your shoulder for a fortnight.

Livin’ the Dream

Many Fratbags have a dream.

But only Joe lives that dream.

Livin' the Dream

Many Fratbags have a dream.

But only Joe lives that dream.

No More Meghan’s Bag Tag

The brief but on-point Meghan writes in with a takedown request of her earlier submission:

—
Hi,

Ok well thank you for posting the picture, however my friend in the picture with me is flipping out because i didnt ask her first if I could send it to you, and she wants it taken off. Sorry shes being such a baby about it, but im sure she will write you an email as well, just to let you know!
—

And then, moments later:

—-

Fair enough, so instead, he’s a douche scrum with Double Ubiquitous Red Cup, gang tackling a Polka Dot Bikini Hott.

No More Meghan's Bag Tag

The brief but on-point Meghan writes in with a takedown request of her earlier submission:

—
Hi,

Ok well thank you for posting the picture, however my friend in the picture with me is flipping out because i didnt ask her first if I could send it to you, and she wants it taken off. Sorry shes being such a baby about it, but im sure she will write you an email as well, just to let you know!
—

And then, moments later:

—-

Fair enough, so instead, he’s a douche scrum with Double Ubiquitous Red Cup, gang tackling a Polka Dot Bikini Hott.

Scarfly

Laugh it up, Rico. The Hott Cousins still aren’t going home with you.

Wednesday Limerick

Crazy Eyes Killah mugs Jennifer sweetly,
While society’s thumb says, “Whatta douche!” so discreetly,
For Jennifer thinks,
“Five more minutes = free drink!”
But will she make it? Killah’s shirt smells like Tyrone Wheatley.

Honorary Douchebag of the Month: “Nik Ritchie” of The Dirty

It’s long past due that we honor one of the legendary douchebags of the world wide interwebs, the one and only creative vacuum of suckage that is “Nik Ritchie,” creator of something called “The Dirty.”

A hollow vessel of intellectual vacuity and incurious ass-suckage, “Nik” spews his brief sentences of unfunny on pics like a regurgitating rhesus monkey, without rhyme, reason, point, perspective or humor. He is the anti-funny.

He sucks comedy out of the cosmos and redistributes it as the white noise of poo.

This fraudulent clown actually claims the following as his “mission statement”:

“The premise of the web site is for people to be held accountable for their actions,” Karamian stated. “Obviously I poke fun at it, and throw it in somewhat of a funny light. But at the end of the day people don’t want to be exposed as something that they kind of shun…If The Dirty wasn’t around, people would be just going on like nothing ever happened.”

Yes, thanks to Nik Ritchie’s “The Dirty,” people will never not go around like nothing ever happened again. Nice to seek a justification, Ritchie, without the words, concept, or consciousness to do so. Just admit you like “teh funny picturz” and end it there.

For the first six months of existence, The Dirty pulled pics from HCwDB’s Hall of Scrote, branded them with a “Dirty” logo, and then smeared the unfunny all over them with Ritchie’s typical steaming pile of suckage. The Gator, The Prompas, each made their way into The Dirty’s endless production of image in search of point. Commentary desperately seeking comedy, and finding only the monosyllabic douchebonics of Nik Ritchie.

An example of Nik Ritchie’s incisive deconstruction of pop-culture terminology: He calls Affliction shirts, “Assliction.” Get it? Because Affliction sounds like “Assliction” but then it’s ass, which means it’s bad, which is funny.

This clown even tried to “out” me on his site with some ridiculous pic of a John Denver dude, without bothering to realize my photo is in my book and I’ve meet with numerous people at book signings.

But that’s not what makes The Dirty a vortex of anal suckage. HCwDB is fair game for criticism from all who’d like to voice it. Just be funny about it.

The Dirty licks Tijuana hooker taint because of the complete lack of voice. Lack of commentary. Lack of thought. And, most crucially, lack of funny.

The Dirty is empty mass culture regurgitation without any notion of satire or cultural critique. There is no concept or comprehension of what it is he wants to say, and even worse, no interest in even wondering if that’s a problem. Nik Ritchie wants people to read his site without ever once stopping to wonder as to the why. Funny pics? Maybe. Clever writing? I like turtles.

Ritchie has the cleverness of a lobotimized yak headbutting a lamppost. The literary aesthetic of involuntary muscle spasm by way of fetal alchohol syndrome.

I’m all for sites using images of our media age to critique the nonsensicality of the simulacrum in the age of spectacle. But The Dirty is the worst of all worlds. It fails to be “dirty.” It fails to be “the.” It fails to even be Fail Blog.

So for the lameness, the boorishness, the pointlessness and the unfunny, for looking like a rejected Sasha Baron Cohen character, and for being a D.U.I. away from another jail sentence, the worthless parasite Nik Ritchie gets a well deserved Douchebag of the Month.

Honorary Douchebag of the Month: "Nik Ritchie" of The Dirty

It’s long past due that we honor one of the legendary douchebags of the world wide interwebs, the one and only creative vacuum of suckage that is “Nik Ritchie,” creator of something called “The Dirty.”

A hollow vessel of intellectual vacuity and incurious ass-suckage, “Nik” spews his brief sentences of unfunny on pics like a regurgitating rhesus monkey, without rhyme, reason, point, perspective or humor. He is the anti-funny.

He sucks comedy out of the cosmos and redistributes it as the white noise of poo.

This fraudulent clown actually claims the following as his “mission statement”:

“The premise of the web site is for people to be held accountable for their actions,” Karamian stated. “Obviously I poke fun at it, and throw it in somewhat of a funny light. But at the end of the day people don’t want to be exposed as something that they kind of shun…If The Dirty wasn’t around, people would be just going on like nothing ever happened.”

Yes, thanks to Nik Ritchie’s “The Dirty,” people will never not go around like nothing ever happened again. Nice to seek a justification, Ritchie, without the words, concept, or consciousness to do so. Just admit you like “teh funny picturz” and end it there.

For the first six months of existence, The Dirty pulled pics from HCwDB’s Hall of Scrote, branded them with a “Dirty” logo, and then smeared the unfunny all over them with Ritchie’s typical steaming pile of suckage. The Gator, The Prompas, each made their way into The Dirty’s endless production of image in search of point. Commentary desperately seeking comedy, and finding only the monosyllabic douchebonics of Nik Ritchie.

An example of Nik Ritchie’s incisive deconstruction of pop-culture terminology: He calls Affliction shirts, “Assliction.” Get it? Because Affliction sounds like “Assliction” but then it’s ass, which means it’s bad, which is funny.

This clown even tried to “out” me on his site with some ridiculous pic of a John Denver dude, without bothering to realize my photo is in my book and I’ve meet with numerous people at book signings.

But that’s not what makes The Dirty a vortex of anal suckage. HCwDB is fair game for criticism from all who’d like to voice it. Just be funny about it.

The Dirty licks Tijuana hooker taint because of the complete lack of voice. Lack of commentary. Lack of thought. And, most crucially, lack of funny.

The Dirty is empty mass culture regurgitation without any notion of satire or cultural critique. There is no concept or comprehension of what it is he wants to say, and even worse, no interest in even wondering if that’s a problem. Nik Ritchie wants people to read his site without ever once stopping to wonder as to the why. Funny pics? Maybe. Clever writing? I like turtles.

Ritchie has the cleverness of a lobotimized yak headbutting a lamppost. The literary aesthetic of involuntary muscle spasm by way of fetal alchohol syndrome.

I’m all for sites using images of our media age to critique the nonsensicality of the simulacrum in the age of spectacle. But The Dirty is the worst of all worlds. It fails to be “dirty.” It fails to be “the.” It fails to even be Fail Blog.

So for the lameness, the boorishness, the pointlessness and the unfunny, for looking like a rejected Sasha Baron Cohen character, and for being a D.U.I. away from another jail sentence, the worthless parasite Nik Ritchie gets a well deserved Douchebag of the Month.

Ask DB1: Is Jeff Reed a ‘Bag?

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Dear DB1,