Thoughts and Links
-
Friday, October 14, 2011
Friday Thoughts and Links
A gorgeous Los Angeles Friday as your humble narrator finishes drooling at Red Bikini Hott, rotely mocks Douchebag Ed Grimley, and them reposes with a tasty Mr. Pibb.
As I ruminate and marinate, I consider the genius that came up with Kettle Corn.
How to improve upon a snack food product without sugar? Add sugar. Of course.
I will soon be marketing “Kettle Celery.” I’m also considering “Kettle Raisins” and “Kettle Nuts,” or as some call them, “Sugar balls.”
Yup.
I’m babbling like Brooke Burke in a burka in a brook.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Japanese Horror DVD Pick of the Week: “This wire can cut flesh and bones easily!”
A newspaper in England, The Daily Mail, picks up on the art of transnational douche mocking.
Toby Keith sings an ode to Ubiquitous Red Cup. HCwDB. It’s like getting the pulse of the zeitgeist three years early.
Speaking of DVDs, best comedy show on TV right now: “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and my dad hung himself in front of me, while masturbating.”
F@#k the Yankees! “It’s like going to a casino and cheering for the house” for the win.
Just in time for Halloween: Scared Bros at a Haunted House
Creepy, rich Europeans with too much time on their hands occasionally produce some pretty kick-ass things.
Somewhere. Out there. Fat baby.
Act like a douche in school? Here’s what’ll happen.
Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker enjoy an intimate moment.
The 1970s actually existed in a garish and heinous parallel universe that we still can’t comprehend.
Okay, so since you’ve been good this week, you’ve earned it:
Go ahead. Take a chomp. It’s Friday.
Friday, October 7, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
As your humble narrator reflects on his past year of sins, and prepares to spend a day without HoHos nor Night Train, I consider where HCwDB will go in the new year.
Whither HCwDB? My love for this site and its readers, and my deep pleasure in mocking thousands of arrogant and narcissistic choadwanks and lusting after their ill deserved hottquisitions, continues.
But whereto and wherefore?
After the 2011 Douchie Awards, I may turn this site into a more generalized and random reflection of my thoughts on life, pop culture, post-structuralism and other assorted things. Or maybe we finally let some readers join the mainpage as regular contributors.
Lots to figure out. But the site will most certainly continue. That I promise.
But for now, I atone. My many sins include far too frequent starings at the firmness of May’s perfect suckle thigh, Sweaty Sally.
But is that really a sin? If G-d hadn’t wanted me to look, he wouldn’t have produced such spectatular suckle gnaw.
Here’s your Links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “You can’t compete? Are you kidding? You’re Chris Brander. You’re Hollywood, you date models! He’s Jersey, he skis in his jeans. It’s Dinkleman. It’s Dusty Dinkleman!”
Nearly forgotten 2010 HCwDB of the Year winning douchebag Stackhouse starts up his own business venture. Hmm. Where’s my left-handed Jew lawyer when I need him.
Why Stackhouse likes to eat at McDonalds.
For my New England readers, a moment of silence for the late, great Friendly’s Restaurant. My Dad took me there for ice-cream after every screening of “The Empire Strikes Back” I dragged him to (approximately nine).
I’m currently obsessed with weird Japanese children’s commercials with facist undertones.
While I’d almost forgotten about her, apparently Lindsey Something or Other has been out whoring it up with the lost Wilson brother, Douchus Wilson.
Some pseudo-intellectuals on a blog try to deconstruct the post-structuralist signifiers of HCwDB’s critique of pure reason. Fail to reference boobies.
The great Bill Hicks in a clip from The Dennis Miller show. I can’t tell which is more tragic, that Bill Hicks died or that Dennis Miller lived.
When monkeys save puppies, there is always hope.
But you are not here for monkeys saving puppies. Well, actually, you probably are. But here’s some Pear:
And that’s about as good a lineup of links as it gets around here. Hike!
Friday, September 30, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
Sometimes ‘bag hunters will stop me in the street and ask me, “DB1, why you smell like prunes?”
After I explain the intricacies of the digestive tract deprived of fruits and vegetables outside of a Hostess Pie, they then ask me something else.
“DB1, if you grant a performative leniency rule for scrotes whose job it is to perform scrotily, why doesn’t it apply to D.J.s?”
And I answer softly. Because D.J.s are camel poo. And Linda needs a sammich.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Indie Doc of the Week: “Kill Your Idols!”
The winner for douchiest energy drink of 2011? Blue Storm. Bringing douchey American culture to Afghanistan since 2002.
Speaking of the military, eagle-eyed reader justadouchalo catches Closet of Poo legend, Poo, being called out for pretending to have been a military P.O.W. Irony alert: When his ‘real’ name is “Winslow Jefferson Ballsworth” it may not be a real profile. Just a consideration.
Ever wonder what happens when a nerdy math geek meets a douchey hairstyle? Of course you have.
Jon Stewart takes on The Nanny. Back in 1997.
The greatest punk band of them all: The Buzzcocks. 1978.
Speaking of old music, there is only one B.O.C.
Or if you’re looking for current stuff, lately I’ve been digging on Cut Copy. Even if the video is hipster stupid, that track both evokes, and subverts, New Wave tropes.
More Cut Copy here. Walking the fine line of techno douchey, but I’d argue they transcend.
Some days I like to sit by a fire, enjoy a tasty chocodile and milk, and read some Vonnegut or Melville. Some days I like to gnaw on this.
But you are not here for Gummi gnaw. You are here for Pear:
Where droplets and Green Cards collide.
Enjoy. For the Weekend is upon.
Friday, September 23, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
As this crisp Los Angeles Friday turns breezy and gusty with the desperate cries of frustrated servers working at Chipotle who really totally could’ve gotten that part in “Footloose” if the casting director wasn’t such a pidge, I meditate on underfed Ukranian hott.
Underfed Ukranian Hott in creepy blue bathrooms, with succulent pokey poke power boobs, heapings of euro attitude, and zebra purse.
Enough to make Todd (with his oft ignored but great at Scrabble sis Mandy), start to hat tilt and sunglasses hook. You almost had the notta Todd. But hat tilt and chin fung must not pass.
Yup.
‘Tis Friday.
Your humble narrator pees on Hollywood.
Here’s your links:
Reader Stefan suggests we make LMFAO’s“Sexy and I know It” the official theme song of HCwDB. Gonna be hard for me to ever replace either the great Vin Douchal’s “Donkey Opus in Douche Major” or Foglizard’s “Hot Chicks with Douchebags”
Some Friday Zen: An incredible series of color photos taken of New York City between 1941 and 1942.
There have been many movies made since 1895 when the Lumiere Brothers first projected “Train Arrives at the Station” on a sheet at the Grand Cafe in Paris. Trog is one them.
Some days it’s time to chat about Heidegger. Some days, not chatting about Heidegger, but wine. Other days, chatting about Gordon Ramsey Lookalike Pornstar Dwarfs Killed by Badgers.
My cousin (on my father’s side), Lu Louis, stars in My Roommate The Athlete. Give it up for what the cast of Swingers would’ve been up to if the internet had been around back in 1996.
Got red hair and sperm? No thanks.
If you’re ever in Southern India, the term for douchebag is Tumbida koDa tuLukuvudilla. Translation: “The pot which is full does not splash.” Makes sense. Sort of.
Speaking of Pear, now’s a good time as any to remember that formerly barely famous something or other, Jennifer Love Hewitt, once complained about being called a ‘Pear Ass.’ Ladies, it may be reductive and objectifying, but it’s still meant as a compliment.
The great, cryptic and mythic hero of HCwDB, the legendary John Largeman, was caught on camera catching a foul ball, Ferris style.
But you are not here for John Largeman Ferris moves. You are here for Pear. And it’s time we go back to a classic:
Like two fleshy sea grapefruits gargling jello.
Friday, September 16, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
Every time I think douchebags are no longer a viable source of mock, that they’ve become rodeo clowns and circus performers, I remember that boyz like the Lancelot Boyz are still out there.
Still spending day and night preening and prepping to try to mack on the Slutty Hotts that power our Priuses.
It’s enough to dive a man to Malomars.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB BBC DVD Box Set of the Week: “People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but *actually* from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint – it’s more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly… time-y wimey… stuff.”
When douchebags kill puppies: Queens Bodybuilder throws his dog out of a window. This is why we mock.
If you haven’t seen the perfection of the purity of Semitic suckle thigh coy pearliciousness of the leaked Scarlett Johansson iPhone pics, you owe it to yourself to do so (NSFW).
In sports douche news, The New York Islanders have designated an official tattoo parlor.
In Defense of Plastic Surgery.
Source Plague Typhoid Mary of the douche virus: The Grieco joins Facebook. Scroll down to check out the first item listed under “Activities and Interests” and it’ll all make sense.
Courtesy of Hurl Scheibe in the comments threads: Brazilian Beer. For when third world hyper-inflation gets you down.
You think the Honey Badger cares? “Thanks for the mouse, see ya later!”
Grandpa Gets a Webcam. Oh, lookit that monkey!
But you are not here for confused old people and gay nature films. You are here for pear. Here ya go:
Sure labeling humans by writing on their bodies has terrible historical antecedents like slavery and the holocaust. But Pear cures all haunting ills of the past in one semi-globulic formula.
Go forth and chomp.
Friday, September 9, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
Ah yes, the Z-Axis Hat Tilt.
A rare event. Like the Aurora Borealis. Or hearing a car horn in Los Angeles.
Another Friday comes to pass, and I find my thoughts drifting lazily to thoughts of cookies.
Cookies are so great. I enjoy them heartily. They even have a cute name. How many products are named for the process by which they are produced?
Very few. Think about it. And that’s alls I got.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Grand Guignol DVD Pick of the Week: “I was busy pushing bodies around as you well know and what would a note say, Dan? ‘Cat dead, details later’?”
File under pics I probably shouldn’t run but will anyway: Hot Chicks with Stephen Hawking. “Hot Chicks” being a relative term. Get it? Get it? Relative… oh nevermind. And way to make ‘Bag Hand Gesture #314159 there, Hawkingbag.
The sexiest woman of the summer: Semitic Librarian Hott and Future Ex-Mrs. DB1 #5.
But even Mila can’t compete with the hottness of interspecies Alpaca-Kitty action. So hot.
Full throttle douche bottle! Kinda amusing.
Pauly D continues to be the most profitable douchebag of 2011. I will renew drinking heavily. The war is being lost.
But you are not here for Pauly D updates. You are hear for top shelf quality premium Gnaw Pear, are you not? You are. Then here you go:
The vanity is deserved.
Go forth. Go forth and poke chomp slap. For our female ‘bag hunters, go forth and flirt with a funny guy. We’re hot too. Even without the six pack abs.
Friday, September 2, 2011Labor Day Weekend Thoughts and Links
In this, the age when politicians routinely piss on the working class of this country, it’s important for us to take a moment remember what Labor Day really stands for.
Those among us who aren’t wealthy, beautiful celebrities or powerful wall street titans.
Those among us who don’t blow all their time and money on a life of privilege getting stupid tatts and spikey hair and lounging by the poolside in Vegas.
The regular joes.
The people who used to be celebrated by this country as the backbone of our nation are now seeing themselves targeted as criminals, called lazy, shiftless, or deserving of what they’ve gotten. Rich and powerful clowns, coming from the same narcissistic cesspool that produced douchebag culture, now routinely equate the labor class with failing in life.
These preening egos in suits and ties, douchebags of the worst sort, get on our TV and lecture us like their money means they are enlightened. They actually believe, or have convinced themselves, that their money was earned because of the greatness of their “individualism.” In a vacuum. And the rest of us need to be like them. Or we get what we deserve.
These flaming pudwacks who’ve read too many Ayn Rand fantasy novels are insecure enough not to want to understand the network around them in which they are graced to live. How those at the bottom also produce the value they think they “earn” from the society that holds the rules and structures together to produce our collective national wealth.
Don’t be one of those asswipes.
Remember what Labor Day really stands for. Income does not define your rank in this world, no matter what how the media now stigmatizes and shames those at the bottom as lazy and shiftless.
There are different standards. Standards we used to apply before a few billionaires with too much power and too much insecurity decided to teach us all the lessons of fantasy in which they are Atlas, and we are the teaming hordes, the unwashed, clawing at their greatness.
F@#k them. No one “earns” a billion dollars. It’s not possible. They are not heroes. They are insecure fools, confused by their success and seeking a philosophy to justify their narcissism. Even a philosophy as fantastical as Scientology and as logical as Narnia.
I’ll take the guys in front of Home Depot over the jackass from Wall Street any day of the week and twice on Sunday. And on Monday, I’ll tip my Ubiquitous Red Cup to honor those who don’t have anything, but still get up and go to work every day.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “If a fox stole your chickens… Would you slaughter your pig because he saw the fox? No. You would hunt the fox… You would find where it lives and destroy it! And how do we do this? Become a fox.”
Speaking of foxes and chickens, if you feel like trippin’ out this weekend, dig the Animal Beatbox. Skip to 1:50 for a glimpse into the DB1’s secret fantasies.
Leisure Diving. Photographic genius and summer slackerdom in one creative package.
My latest quartasian (alas not Semitic) semi-celebrity hottie fixation is Marie Digby, singer or something. I would sexy love her legs for a fortnight or six.
An eagle-eyed reader trolls the web for porn and discovers HCwDB Hall of Pear legend Ass Pear LaPlante has been hijacked! Ransom is only $1.99 for unlimited downloads.
Pink Dudes Want to Party. Hot chicks don’t.
Finally, a justification for Facebook. Remember, it’s not bestiality if you groom them first.
If I had to pinpoint the exact moment I first discovered the compelling power of the uberhott, it would be when I first saw this scene from “Malibu Bikini Shop” on HBO in 1986. Barbara Horan changed everything about my understanding of life. And sort of for the worse. The desire to gnaw has never stopped plaguing my waking and dream lives like a propulsive compulsion of redirected primal humpty hump.
You aren’t a true Lebowski fan unless you can argue either for or against The Donny Theory.
Speaking of humpty hump, let us not forget how even nature likes to remind us of the Pear. As we appearciate:
Less meaty than her American cousin Pears, it is still firm of chewtoy. And well worth guiding us into the weekend.
Have a great Labor Day. Posts’ll continue a little over the weekend, and then we’se gearin’ up again next week.
Friday, August 26, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
As the odd lumpy shapes that make up the partying collective in the age of economic collapse whir by me, I can only think of Malomars.
Your humble narrator is in NYC. A hurricane bears down.
It’s late August, and the NYC hotties wear short-shorts and off the shoulder cotton fluffy things. I want to fondle. But society has rules about those sorts of things.
So I sublimate with a slice of pizza.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Now I’m gonna show you what I already know. “
And here’s an absolutely brilliant analysis of this great film’s use of clothing thematics and explanation of the end sequence. Worth watching in its entirety. The fact this film is being “remade” this year is a travesty.
Great moments in comedy: George Carlin deplanes. Following the template of the great Lenny Bruce.
More great moments in comedy:
More retroactive reconfigurations of media you remember from years ago that now star familiar faces, here’s 14 year old Kevin Youkilis, now a baseball player for the Red Sox, making his acting debut in “Milk Money.” Kinda random but whatevs.
When life gets you down, don’t get upset. Just punch a camel.
After the apocalypse… Dennis Rodman is… The Pimp Warrior.
Douchebags in Truck bother Hot Chick. Rude, but funny.
But you are not here to watch hicks bother rural hotts. You are here for pear. Today is a double celebupear edition:
Impressive. Most impressive. But they are not Hall of Pear yet.
Friday, August 19, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
Oh, Skippy.
How happy you are, with your 10 Degree Yankee Hat Tilt and your awkard sideways peace sign.
You are a mere ‘bagling. And so we throw you back, even as we know you’ll eventually morph into wigga poo.
It’s Friday. And I virtually slap the bebe with a fly swatter. As another week has passed.
Here’s your links:
Your Existential, perhaps Nihilistic, HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Well, basically, there was this little dot, right? And the dot went bang and the bang expanded. Energy formed into matter, matter cooled, matter lived, the amoeba to fish, to fish to fowl, to fowl to frog, to frog to mammal, the mammal to monkey, to monkey to man, amo amas amat, quid pro quo, memento mori, ad infinitum, sprinkle on a little bit of grated cheese and leave under the grill till Doomsday”
New York Gold Diggers and aging Wall Street Assbags get organized.
The great Siskel & Ebert debate who’s funnier Woody Allen or Mel Brooks, from back in 1980. The correct answer, in terms of pure comedy, is Mel Brooks.
Here’s a rare and important posthumous video of a conversation between the late “Zyzz,” aka Mecha Hineyho, and his brother Chestbrah recorded in the days before Zyzz’s passing. An important artifact for posterity’s sake.
Douchebags are so bad for branding these days that Abercrombie & Fitch offers to pay “The Situation” to stop wearing their brand.
And yet more signs we might be winning the war: A newly opened downtown L.A. club bans Ed Hardy. From the article: It’s a place where downtown’s business community, its nocturnal visitors and its residents coexist, where the atmosphere is casual and the dress code is free — with one exception. “No Ed Hardy,” Perch co-creator Coly Den Haan says with a smile, referring to the gaudy tattoo-inspired T-shirts created by Christian Audigier.
Two bros spend their Sunday morning Bollywood Style. Full nottabag passes for hilarious college buffoonery.
But you are not here for Bros.
You are here for Pear. And you’ve earned this one, named for the cinematographers in our midst:
Mmmm… I have flashbacks to ‘Nam. Assnam.
Go forth and imbibe. Your work is done.
Friday, August 12, 2011Friday Thoughts and Links
Vegas pools.
Spawning stupid hats since 2007.
For in the land of excess, in a country hit so hard by the economic realities brought about by a decade of douchebag culture’s narcissism, greed, and self indulgence, the metaphor of the pool offers notions of baptism, journey and cleansing of the sins of the skin.
And they also look all badass when lit up with blue light.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Box Set Pick of the Week: “Smoking marijuana, eating Cheese Doodles, and masturbating do not constitute ‘plans’ in my book!”
From the Nature V. Nurture debate: Sexually extravagant male birds get old faster and have bum sperm. Like Roy Batty taught us, the candle that burns twice as bright, burns twice as fast.
For those who still haven’t heard, the news about HCwDB legend and fist pumping Mecha Hineyho, aka “Zyzz” is true. Australia’s legend passed away last week in a sauna in Thailand.
Hipster Band in NYC sings an ode to Internet Comment Feedback.</p?
Here’s your Bleeth of the Year winner. Way to go, England. So much for the land of Shakespeare and Doctor Who to save us from the Douche/Bleeth Plague.
Annoying Nerdbag headlocks his date at Coldplay concert. You had douchebag at “Coldplay Concert.”
HCwDB’s long time ‘bag hunter and writer/producer guy douche equis is pleased to announce a Black Dynamite animated series on Adult Swim. Checkitout.
Shaved alpaca. What next? Alpacas in low rise jeans? Is there no modesty these days?
But you are not here to laugh at idiots who waste money on Coldplay concerts and lust after shaved alpaca. You are here for Pear. And today we enjoy a slice of real world Pear, no airbrush or fancy photography tricks:
Just two mounds of gnaw punch slappy slap Venician glass canal Italian pimento chomp.
Enjoy.
For Friday > Thursday.