Monday, August 27, 2012

HCwDB of the Week: Methholio and Rachel

Last week had Creepy Photobomb, and the wonderful future thigh rub Eurohott that was Inga. There was even Ed Hardouche and the Twins, which could easily be the Weekly HCwDB winner/loser.

And while BroKevin and Supple Ashley also brought a solid fleshial challenge to the fight, in the end, this site is about mocking those most heinous of couplings between wretchchoad and pooch suckle.

And oh, yes, Rachel offers the quality pooch suckle. I would tickle a Furby in a bout of 1990s-era nostalgia just to Chubawumba her Cake.

And holy crap, “Self Made” Methholio is all that we have collectively decided to fight here at HCwDB. This toolwank needs Alex and his Droogs to sing Singing in the Rain to him beneath a barrage of lead pipes and British “What’s all this, then?” Bobbys looking the other way.

For theirs is poo. And theirs is the Weekly.

# posted by douchebag1
6:38 am August, 27 The Dude said...

Nice choice, boss

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Rachel has a Katie Holmes-type of appeal, with the benefit of not having borne Tom Cruise’s child.

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Methholio has no apparent benefits to mankind.

6:39 am August, 27 Vin Douchal said...

It’s like his mother and father couldn’t conceive so they went to the fertility clinic and had them mix sperm from Kevin Federline, Corey Haim, the Florida bum that was eating face, Hank the Angry Drunken Dwarf, Skrillex and Pauly D in a petri dish then turkey basted that shit all up in her schnizz.

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Nine monthe later: “Mr. and Mrs. Methholio? Congrats! It’s a boy” …… self-made, indeed

6:40 am August, 27 Vin Douchal said...

This one was too good to just link:

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7:03 am August, 27 DoucheyWallnuts said...

Great choice. And by that I mean I just threw up in my pants. A lot.

7:25 am August, 27 Capt. James T. Douche said...

Self-made = test tube baby pride!

7:27 am August, 27 Capt. James T. Douche said...

Self made = turkey baister baby pride!

7:28 am August, 27 Capt. James T. Douche said...

Self made = compulsive autofellaters pride!

7:30 am August, 27 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

Rachel may be in the experimental stage of meth use. Looks like she has a tooth problem and may be a raker. But before she gets too bad I’d like to get her hopped up on bath salts and legitimately rape her and not pay for the abortion

8:21 am August, 27 hermit said...

No problem Rev. The woman’s reproductive system is programmed to self-abort after a legitimate rape.

Careful though. If you somehow slip one past the goalie it can result in a hissing fetus©.

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Medical fact

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.Son

8:26 am August, 27 hermit said...

I’d rather ass-fuck the poolside skank in purple. The sound of those prostetic lower legs banging together would be like the sweet music of a love song.

8:36 am August, 27 Anonymous said...

YEah bUt taKe A looK aT raChEl’s flaBBy StoMaCh. ShE’d bE WelL UnDeR 30Yo yEt alReaDY ThErE’s aN ExCeSs Of LoosE SkiN. IT’s LiKE tHe GrEAsy faT FounD oN HAM.

8:42 am August, 27 Mr. Scrotato Head said...

Remember when you were a kid, and you saw that one thing that you wanted so badly you would do anything to have it? Maybe it was a Red Rider bb-gun. Or one of the first legitimate bmx style bikes with the reinforced handlebars and the trimmed down frame and the nobby tires. Maybe it was the Barbie Dream House with the elevator and the whole thing folded up so you could carry all Barbie’s stuff in it to your friend’s house and hang out all day. Maybe it was a Walk-Man, or a Sega game system. What ever it was, you wanted it more than anything. You just Had. To. Have. It. But it wasn’t cheap, and mom and dad, being responsible parents, wouldn’t just give in and buy it for you. It’s not Christmas or your birthday. No, if you wanted it you would have to earn it.

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So you did. You made a plan. You mowed neighbor lawns for five bucks a pop. You sold lemonade from the sidewalk with sugar your mom donated to the cause. You collected aluminum cans for 18 cents a pound, crushing them in your garage so you wouldn’t use up too many of mom and dad’s garbage sacks. You cut deals with your friends, selling off some of your baseball card collection for a few, desperate bucks. And bit by bit, you earned the cash to get that treasured item. And when the day came that you could go to the store and buy it, and take it home, and get it out of its box and hold it in your hands, that was a day like any other. You’d busted your ass for this moment, invested your time, sweat, and energy into making it happen.

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Remember how it felt? To set and reach a hard goal all by yourself? That sense of accomplishment? Of Commitment? Of follow-through? How you stood a little taller, felt a bit more mature?

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Yeah, Methholio has no f*cking idea what I’m talking about.

9:16 am August, 27 Et Tu Douche? said...

Mr. Scrotato Head speaks the truf.

2:03 pm August, 27 This just in... said...

Scrote head FTW.

2:22 pm August, 27 Whoop-di-douche said...

More like self-aggrandizing.

She’d be quite competent at head-sizing, seizing,

Whatever.

10:18 pm August, 27 Duck Duck Douche said...

She’s halfway to having that gut stick out farther than her tits. Where’s the hott?

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