Hipsterbag

    Monday, February 14, 2011

    Flathead in the Third Dimension

    This calls for some sort of physics joke regarding vector hair, dimensionality and taut Russian immigrant hotties suffering the consequences of their naiveté.

    So I turn it over to Stephen Hawking:

    He is dou-chey be-cause his hair is stu-pid and if I could stand, I would spank both of the hott-ies both spa-tially as well as tem-por-a-lly.

    Yup. Stephen Hawking jokes. I need a coffee.

    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, October 14, 2010

    Hipsterbag Topher

    I had thought mocking hipsterbags with hot chicks would be a more innovative subgenre of the Hottie/douchey dialectics in 2010. To date it hasn’t been. But Hipsterbag Topher may change that around here.

    Note the subtle douchebag-hipsterbag transliterations:

    Facial fung from “anal retentive sculpt” to “faux disinterest sculpt.” Designer cap tilt to vintage cap tilt. Bling to bling.

    Librarian Roxanna is real world small town loin fire. And for that, I buy her a martini, and don’t even flinch when she asks for Grey Goose rather than Ketel One.

    # posted by douchebag1
    Tuesday, October 5, 2010

    Pouty Karl

    Hipsterbag Karl doesn’t like being presented with perfect pillowy bounce-quartery spheres of semi-globbic perfection.

    Instead, he likes to wear rosary beads.

    And pout.

    And for that, he deserves our mock.

    # posted by douchebag1
    Friday, September 10, 2010

    Hipsterbag Michel Tries To do “The Shocker;” Fails

    No Michel, it’s two fingers out, third finger folded, fourth finger calling the parents for rent/groceries cash help while couch surfing in the Mission District, but just until next month, when the art career will definitely take off.

    Mocha Pear is curvy. I’d gnaw like a crabapple meeting a hungry crab.

    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, September 2, 2010

    Pinky and the Butt

    Okay.

    Had my coffee.

    Slightly more coherent now than that last post.

    And my coherence leads me to one sinuous statment: Lick my toejam, Dan Fogelbag.

    Rocker Choads with semi-bands are the reason Los Angeles smells like warm feet.

    But, on the flip, Ass Pear sings rainbow chipmunk harmonics even when threatening the dreaded “future chunk.”

    # posted by douchebag1
    Thursday, August 26, 2010

    Hipsterwank Henry

    I had thought 2010 would be the year of the Hipsterbag.

    Strangely (and awfully), it’s been more a series of garish trends of Groin Shave Reveal, the wake of Jersey Shore spectacle coated with attempts of irony, rather than alternative Hipsterdouche.

    But it’s only August.

    A few more like Hipsterpud Henry and rose tattoo fungus necks while hitting on tasty treats like Nicole, and things may turn out different when we sum up the year at the 2010 Douchie Awards.

    Mmmm…. Nicole… I would rub only the finest breadcake puddings upon your pleasingly curvy and plump figure, and then cry in therapy about my guinea pig that never loved me.

    # posted by douchebag1