Thoughts and Links
-
Friday, September 10, 2010
Friday Thoughts and Links
As Friday drifts into eve, and the notion of stupidheads who show their abs to every passing camera rattles through my subconscious, your humble narrator stares out at the muggy skyline of Los Angeles.
And watches as summer turns to fall.
By which I mean the temp goes from 80 to 77.
A crisp breeze brings with it the smells of desert cactii. And actor flopsweat desperation pretending to be sense memory. And directors bragging about movie deals at dinner parties.
Another day up in the canyons. Another night in Hollywood. Man, did that band suck.
Here’s your links:
HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: Tofutti Break!
Neil Hardy can’t believe his urban cred hangin’ with the homies wasn’t enough to win him, and Des Moines’s finest barely legals, the HCwDB of the Week. Sorry, Neil. Maybe next time.
Jose Canseco stars in Hot Chick with Roidbag.
In tracing the early manifestations of the 1980s Grieco Virus, let us not forget the iconic proto-douche of animation fame, Gaston. And let us not forget the Palace with the Phallus. Or naked Jessica Rabbit. On frames 2170-2172 on side four of the laserdisc. In case you wanted to check.
Phil Davison really, really, really wants your vote.
Arthur C. Clarke sees the future. No mention of Perez Hilton or TMZ.
More nerd stuff: The Doctor Who theme via electrostatic charge.
In sad news, the great comedian Robert Schimmel died after a car accident last week at the age of 60. Here’s the great Mr. Schimmel in the 1980s Young Comedian’s Comedy Special. Like Kinison and Hicks, he was one of the 80s greats to leave us too soon.
From England, Lil’ Mac demonstrates how to be a ‘bagling with a British accent.
In weird strange randomness, here’s a pretty great urban art project animation. It’s my happening and it freaks me out!
Okay, enough weird-ass randomness. Here’s a double pear in hi-res that is surely worth a celebration of collective gnaw:
Mmmm… it’s like two tiny orbs of fleshy planet grappling with the curvatures of space/time paradox.
Enjoy. Gnaw. For the weekend is upon.
Friday, September 3, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
As a sharp cutting breeze crusts upon daybreak of autumnal ocean sunrise, a lone deer glances up from the edge of the forestland.
He sees hot chick with douchebag.
And sharts a wee lonely turd uponst the sand.
Where it steams, forlornly.
Here’s your links:
HCwDB’s DVD Pick of the Week: “Wad-a-harr-to?”
‘Bag Hunter Update: HCwDB’s own Mr. Biggs has raised enough money to self finance his graphic novel, Inferno, which he assures us will depict much douche mocking and hott lusting. Thanks to all readers who donated after July’s link was posted. More details will be posted when it’s finished.
A review/account of a proud owner of the Hot Chicks with Douchebags book that makes me particularly happy.
Sign #41 of the impending Scrotocalypse: The Jersey Shore’s ‘The Situation’ Paid $400,000 to Promote ‘Ab Building Vodka.’ The war must continue, fellow ‘bag hunters.
Hair Gel tipping point reached in Las Vegas.
Sign #36 of the impending Scrotocalypse: Bon Jovi’s Tico Torres Starts Douchebag Baby Clothing Line
One of the greatest bands of the 90s, Ween, play Freedom of ’76 on the Jenny Pratt show. For those who still buy CDs, no collection is complete without this masterpiece.
We fought the Cold War for 40 years so Russians would have the right to act as suburban wigga douchey as Americans.
A pretty amusing essay on how Hipsters can’t understand irony. It’s like rain on your wedding day.
2007 HCwDB of the Year winner, Joey Porsche is on Facebook. Ya diggg?
It’s a triple treat of Ass Pear after all the flexing Vegas douche we endured this week, so here’s your reward for all your hard work.
Mocha Pear for the chocolate lovers among us.
And, for the end of summer, Beach Pear.
Enjoy. Discuss. Fondle meditatively. For the weekend is upon.
Friday, August 27, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
Your humble narrator stares pensively at the summer Los Angeles heatwave. And sips his Night Train in quiet repose.
The days of $2,000 bottles of Grey Goose and “pimpin'” by everyone from Wall Street asswipes to suburban parking lot frolic choads may have transmutated into comedic or ironic douchery. But the virus remains just strong.
With the success of The Jersey Shore’s archetypes breaking through into the mainstream, the power of the mock has been altered. Like Skynet before it, The Douche has become self-aware.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: Shut yer stinkin’ trap!
HCwDB ripoff site “The Dirty” and uberdouche Nik Richie got whacked with an 11 million dollar injunction for smearing people rather than being funny. Massive props to Barstool Sports for summing it up as best as it can be summed.
Speaking of The Dirty, republican congressional nominee and all around entitled fratdouche, Ben Quayle, contributed to The Dirty for years as “Brock Landers,” still wins his primary. Stay classy, Arizona.
Perverted cat appreciates ass pear.
French Canadian rapper Pellep Pellep Pellep is the latest to “borrow” heavily from HCwDB’s picture database to make a douchebag tribute video. Is this crap mocking ‘bags? Supporting ‘bags? Who cares. Make that horrible shite stop.
Don’t get the Shut Yer Stinkin’ Trap reference? Check out episode 1 of Skank. Because something on Fox smells funny.
Booty Clappin’. Ghetto Preacher does not approve.
Hardpocalypse 2010: Ed Hardy Baby Skeleton Pirate Hat. The kids aren’t all right.
Twitter sensation and underage female model Justin Bieber has a dad who’s a Stage douche.
Panda Dogs. Oh so cruel, yet oh so hilarious.
Rocky III may be one of the great literary masterpieces of the 1980s, but Rocky Bagboa is a saggyscrote.
And finally, here’s your reward:
Use it well. Use it wisely. For the weekend is upon. And cherries are in season.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010The Neo Primitive
One of the academic terms of discourse regarding scrotepuddery that I’ve been recently developing is the concept of “The Neo Primitive.”
By this, I mean a hybridized and schizophrenic inscription of the body as simultaneously both contemporary, postmodern and intertextually aligned with a broad media landscape (brand-name identification, logos, pop culture iconography, etc.) and yet a highly primitive marking of the body to echo that of ancestral cultural masculinity.
This concept breaks down along two competing, seemingly paradoxical axes of dissonance in terms of identity:
1. The overwhelm of virtual life in the mass media age has led some to attempt to reclaim their bodies through extensive markings, piercings, tattoos, etc. This is an effort to reinscribe the flesh as fully real by confirming its uncontestable reality outside the virtual realm. In other words, in the age of existence as defined by an image shared on Facebook or a comment published on Twitter, the body itself must be marked/scarred (via tattoos, piercings) to re-experience the incontestable realm of sensorial experience.
2. The paradoxical tension between a highly advanced society informed by the fetishization of gadgetry (iphones, droids, etc.) versus the collective hallucination of primitive tribes sold to us through that society as representative of the ancient and primal past of myth and legend. This emerges as Maori tattoos, nose piercings and other assorted signifiers of cliche tribal “primitivity,” and gender roles grounded purely in the biology of the physical.
The use of the body as an irreducible object via the rites-of-passage signifiers of pain, inscription and mutilation (piercings, cuts, implants, tans, dyes, etc.) renders the body as uncanny. The body becomes the site of an active response to the privileging of the virtual, the technological, and the creation of identity in the abstract realms of the online and mediated. The body markings cannot be undone. They reassert “the real” as well as the agency of the inscriptor to “take control” of his body in an age where the body is removed by technology and society. It is an active response towards one’s “self” as a space for contested sites of power.
If society overwhelms the individual through the cacaphony of the virtual, the individual responds by invoking the primitivity of the nostalgic pre-industrial past. On his own skin and muscles. It is both a callback to the primal mythic past at the same paradoxical moment it fully acknowledges the schizophrenia of the modern experience.
Friday, August 20, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
How you stand there so calmly in the eye of the storm as four Vegas Shoescrapes circle you like rancid pudding.
Anita. Anita! As these skinny tatt-infested muggies paw your soft boobage, remember this:
You can’t go, the plants’ll die.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: Mohawk this guy!
Speaking of cinematic perfection, the greatest three minute sequence of the 1990s: Gutterballs! The Coen Brothers are the masters. The rest are mere filmmakers.
Last week’s Basebaggery incident, in which Douchebag Bo let his girlfriend, Sara, get hit by a foul ball, has brought us one glorious revelation: Sarah is Uberhott. Yes she is.
Insecure Twitter and pathological narcissist, John Mayerbag: Before becoming Guitar Spank Lameness.
Streetfighter 2010: Boston Douchebags Beaten with a Bat. Now with bonus cheering!
Celebrity Orangebags attend the ballet. High Culture never smelled of such poo.
KTLA files this report on Los Angelesian Scrotewankery.
For the nerds among us: Darth Schwarzenegger.
Okay, enough nerdgasms. It’s time to get down to your reward at the end of another quality week of hottie/douchey parse.
And since the last few weeks had some repeat Pear, you deserve not one, not two, but THREE all new servings of Pearfection. And here they is:
Splash Pear. Like a summer’s breeze.
And the glories of Step Pear.
For you’ve earned it. Now carry the HCwDB traditions into Friday’s eve with wine, bread, women and song.
Friday, August 13, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
If your mandana matches your wristdana, you might be a douchebag.
Dammit. I always hated Jeff Foxworthy’s one note “you might be a…” anti-comedy crappitude, yet here I am paying ode to his trite “family friendly” comedy pablum. The DB1 needs an extra serving of tasty Hostess snack cakes and quality fortified wine tonight.
Mmmm… Chocodiles. They’re like crocodiles. Only with chocolate.
Here’s your links:
There is one, and only one, DVD box set to own for the connoisseur of genius British comedy: And it is this.
Someone’s dad is happy to teach you Monkey Frolic. Nice futon, Mr. Herbert.
Crap, even the dogs are frolicking.
On site at Lollapalooza 2010, intrepid ‘bag hunter David tags us some Lady Gaga style Ass Pear. But no Indiebags, David?
Political blogger Andrew Sullivan catches Sarah Palin in a real scandal: Wearing Ed Hardy boots. I’d make fun of Palin for this, but I’m really just praying that someday she’ll finally go away and leave us be.
Speaking of republicans, Arizona congressional candidate Ben Quayle likes to pal around with Nik Ritchie of “The Dirty.” I’d rather pal around with terrorists.
While I loathe linking to The Chive (since they routinely steal HCwDB pics and terms without credit), their hoax sequence of a Librarian Hott quitting her job was pretty amusing. Or at least kinda sexy.
Speaking of the scrotebags at “The Chive,” how many times has The Chive ripped off HCwDB material without so much as a credit or a link? This many times. These asswipes makes “The Dirty” look like a peer reviewed journal.
But enough of your humble narrator’s grousing. It was a quality week and I tip my cup of Night Train to all of you who contributed brilliant comedy in the comments threads. So here’s your pear:
Like twin globes of fleshy cushion glory.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010Australia Fights Back!: Ed Hardy Goes Belly Up Down Under
—–
Ed Hardy Operations calls in voluntary administrators
By Edmund Tadros, Business Editor
From: news.com.au
August 11, 2010 12:48PM
CELEBRITY cult fashion label Ed Hardy Operations has gone into voluntary administration, just weeks after it suddenly shut down its six Westfield stores.
The company appointed Deloitte partners Simon Wallace-Smith and Tim Norman as voluntary administrators of Ed Hardy Operations and Ed Hardy on Monday.
“The appointment only relates to Ed Hardy’s operations in Australia and not the Ed Hardy group internationally,” Deloitte said.
Mr Wallace-Smith said the brand was hurt by slowing sales and competition from other retailers.
“The aim of the voluntary administrators will be to evaluate the financial position of the companies and to investigate options to restructure the business,” Mr Wallace-Smith said.
The administrators will continue to operate six stores and shut down the remaining four stores.
—–
“Administrators” is Oz-speak for bankruptcy. Read more here.
Good show, Road Warriors!! There is a chance we’ll win this war between hope and hair grease yet.
EDIT: Australia’s not free of douchebags yet.
Friday, August 6, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
Brothabag Edgar brings two things to the game. 1. Hot Chicks. 2. Uberdouchebaggery. To paraphrase Shakespeare, the playah’s the thing. This greasy tool may be Welles in ’41. Koufax in ’61. Gillis in ’78. We’ll see how far that spike can go at the next HCwDB of the Week.
Meanwhile, your humble narrator is spending the weekend in Cape Cod. Mocking the Masshole ‘Bags and continuing to marvel at New England’s limited hott supply.
Back to work very soon in L.A. so a bit more of summer to be had. And tasty Hostess Treats to bridge the time.
Here’s your links:
My childhood hometown alt weekly, The Boston Phoenix, disses HCwDB, my show, and gives no credit where credit is due, vis a vis the origins of “douche T.V.” Then again, the writer has to live in Boston. The rest of us got out in the 90s.
David H. Brooks, a military contractor, spends $100,000 taxpayer dollars on an American flag belt buckle encrusted with rubies, sapphires and diamonds. Earns a Douchebag of the Year award.
Snitches get Stitches. Douchebags get beer pong.
Musicsnobbery.com does a nice takedown of a wannabe “Jersey Shore” Vinny D press release.
You didn’t think it was possible, but The frolic battles are turning even more gay.
Jennifer Aniston continues desperate attempt to locate a personality. So sad when hot chicks lose all appeal due to total vacuousness.
Bernadette Peters looking Uberhott, coming out of the Walter Kerr theater on Broadway last Tuesday, taken by your humble narrator.
For the historians tracking Grieco Virus spread, here is anthropological footage of infestation beginning in Graz, Austria in 2007.
Okay, I know why you really checked in on a Friday afternoon.
Was it for Ass Beer?
Not quite. It was for Ass Pear. And here is your Pear:
Enjoy. For it is celebrated semi-globes of jiggle fondle joy.
EDIT: It appears Porch Pear has already been Paired, so as amends, I offer Over the Shoulder Pear.
Friday, July 30, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
If there’s one thing Ted knows, it’s that, whether you have abs or not, no time is the wrong time for ab reveal.
Your humble narrator finds himself once again in New York, staring at the quality urbane Cityhotts in minidresses. This follows the classic formula that works like so:
Winter Climate City + Dense Urban Population + Global Warming + late July + Excessive Humidity = Ubersexy Minidress Boobie and Leg Reveal.
And betwixt their swishy thighs as they walk to the subway lies an endless hope of dreamland opportunity and alternate lives well lived in service of the imagination of possibility and dreamscape humpty hump.
Here’s your links:
Lets take a moment and welcome the latest sponsor of HCwDB, Sportsbook Review. Any of you online gamers who read the site, check it out. Remember, frequenting HCwDB’s sponsors helps keep the site going.
If corporations can be people according to the Supreme Court, then cars can be douchebags according to HCwDB.
Rick Pitinobag. Because raping the Celtics in the 1990s wasn’t enough satisfaction.
Katy Perry and Russell Brand continue their push for a 2010 Celebrity HCwDB of the Year Douchie Award.
Pro hockey player Paul Bissonnette of the Phoenix Coyotes lets out his inner Vegas ‘Bag.
From way back in 2006, Howard Stern and Spike created a montage of one of the tastiest Ass Pears to ever fall off the Pear Tree.
President Obama: What is a ‘Snooki’?. As much good as I feel that I’ve done fighting the douchebag plague here at HCwDB, I face a lifetime of penance for giving the world Snooki.
Even the Legos are turning into douchebags.
Okay, that’s enough links for a Friday. You know what time it is. It’s time for Pear:
Enjoy. Gnaw. And in the immortal words of both Kool, but not his Gang: Yaah Heeww. Or was that the Gang, and not Kool? It’s Friday. Be sure to sow your wild Oates.
Friday, July 23, 2010Friday Thoughts and Links
Today’s Friday Thoughts and Links pic comes to us all the way from New Zealand, reminding us that while douches are the same the world over, the Kiwi Hotts are delectable middle earth sunflowers.
Your humble narrator is hard at work as Season #3 of Is She Really Going Out With Him? gears up for production, and also on developing two new shows which will bring the HCwDB aesthetics of comedy to new places. And by places, I mean boobies.
Times is good. And HoHos are chocolatey.
Here’s your links:
HCwDB’s own Mr. Biggs has created an amazing new comic book which he’ll be promoting at ComicCon this weekend, Inferno 2010. Douchebag mocking will be well repesented, so kick your fellow ‘bag hunter some cash to help make his art project happen.
Corey Feldman. Still out there. All alone now.
I’ll take Things You Can’t Unsee for $500, Alex.
Eagle-eyed reader Robin discovers the important historical origins of the Douchebag Yankee Cap Tilt.
Douchebags on Facebook make the news.
From the United Kingdom comes some “celebrity” I’ve never heard of who keeps getting sent to me as an example of a stage 4 Douchebaguette. Her name is Jordan Marsh or something. I’m pretty sure my mom bought a couch from her in Boston in 1983.
Hedonist Rick is into “The Rippin’ and the Tearin’.” (With eye gouging dance moves)
But you are not here for Hedonist Rick’s hyphy dance moves. You are here to celebrate your week of successful douchemock with Pear.
First up: Ass Pear: The Movie.
And if that don’t get ya goin’, I offer thee:
For those hot summer days when one pear simply will not do.