Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Richy McShuckhole and Debutante Carolyn Spell "EMU"

Later, they’ll use their tongues to spell “LL”.

One Singular Crotchsation

In honor of passing of the great composer and songwriter, Marvin Hamlisch, I can only pay tribute HCwDB-style.

With kaleidoscopic Broadway spectacular douche crotch.

And a confused Vegas showgirl, who took a wrong turn at Albuquerque, and now hopes she gets it, she hopes she gets it. And by it, she means not-crabs.

Heyzoos says "Heyyyyy!"

Heyzoos likes Skynard, man.

Shen-Li’s brother is at M.I.T. and no longer speaks to her.

Arturo Has Not Heard of Deodorant

Arturo has not heard of many things.

Like quantum string theory.

And soap.

Skinny Kathy regrets quitting her job at Chotckes. But is waiting on a good interview at Flingers.

Mack the Nozzle Approves of the HCwDB of the Month

HCwDB duperlegend, Mack the Nozzle, approves of the HCwDB of the Month.

And while Mack’s life has spiraled since Francine left him and his face tatts prevented him from getting that job as the night manager at Shakey’s, he’s determined to “Party-fo-life” or die trying.

The punk ladies from the chorus of the touring company for “American Idiot 2: White Suburban Punks Buy Toilet Paper” tolerate Mack’s imbibings with fateful aplomb, and then excuse themselves to go home and watch DVR’d episodes of Bachelor Pad.

HCwDB of the Month: Trent Assholio and Luscious Larissa

Since I’m way behind on Monthlys, and far too lazy to take the time to actually hold an election around here, I’mma go with what’s deserving of HCwDB Monthly status.

And what is deserving is the purity of punchface that Trent Assholio invokes, in congress with the perfect shapely suckle taut poke grab fondle gnaw that is Luscious Larissa.

Yeah, it could’ve gone to Infectious Rick and Connie Thong Pear.  They were a close second.  The Craptastropher and Debutante Amy were also in the mix.    But then I realized something.

Trent Assholio is all that douchebaggery imbibes.  Luscious Larissa deserve booble fondle.

Together, they produce a crisis of meaning in the scrambling of signifier.

As Foucault taught us, individuals intuit and respond to systemic power control in what appears to be the agency of free choice.

There is no free choice.

We are all controlled. By Larissa Pear.

Happy Little Clouds

I believe too, Bob.

Comment of the Week: Katie

Angry hott Katie defends a douchebag in the White Party Frank Gehry Love Boat and, for the genius of misspelling “chick”, wins the coveted HCwDB Comment of the Week:

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Actually the one in the sunglasses is a good friend of mine and is in fact not a duchebag. They were at a Visalus event which that “hot chic” participates in as well and I’m sure they are all doing way better things w their lives than anyone of you real douchebags that commented on this photo! Nice try tho!

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Friday Thoughts and Links

Oh LarryBirdbag. How your white trash ‘stache impresses the hotties of Scranton, Pennsylvania.

Your humb narrs is back in Los Angeles.

A final goodbye to NYC. But a mental promise to the city that if/when I sell my next show, I’mma buy a condo in your overpriced nether region.

That’s the fact, jack.

So a bit light on links this week, but what are ya gonna do. I scratch myself and pontificate on the post-douchebag moment. Thank God for hot chicks.

Here’s your links:

Your HCwDB Classic CD Pick of the Week: “Well it’s Ninth and Hennepin, All the doughnuts have names that sound like prostitutes, And the moon’s teeth marks are on the sky, Like a tarp thrown all over this, And the broken umbrellas like dead birds, And the steam comes out of the grill, Like the whole goddamn town’s ready to blow…”

Seagalbag. Still out there. Still pretending his last name isn’t Jewish by misspelling it and giving it a French pronunciation and misspelling it.

The real reason people watch the Olympics.

It’s safe to say that, in spite of the gold medals, Ryan Lochte is a bit douchey.

There is art. There is modern art. And there is the greatness that is William Wegman.

The Meyerbag.  Still out there.  Still shallower than a thimble full of aardvark pee.

But you are not here for boring updates of undeserving hack “celebrity” musician frauds who suck the tailpipe on the jalopy of life. You are here for pear.

Brasil Olympic Pear

Or, if you need to be pro-American in your pearabrations:

Cowgirl Pear

In the spirit of the games. And the fact that it’s overdue that the world admits the #1 reason one billion people watch the Olympics: hot, young, grunting, global chickas in bikinis and tight spandex.

Manuel Uses Doucheface to Hide Deep Insecurities About His Lovemaking Abilities with Kaylie

Kaylie’s youth filled celebration of female doe-eye hints at winterberries, kaleidoscopic sunrises, tangerine trees, and the DB1 hiding in her closet fondling her used gyroscope.