Where's Waldouche?
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Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Where’s Waldouche? Vegas “Yo” Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of sorority butt chomp slappy grab boingy glute, I’ve carefully hidden a double serving bronzed alpaca turd waldouche.
Look closely.
Can you find them?
Wednesday, March 16, 2011Where’s Waldouche?: Co-ed Lingerie Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of pillow fighting collegiate giggle hottie tasty leg snacks and nape of the neck suckle chew, I’ve carefully hidden not one, not two, but three Fratty Waldouche puddlers.
Look closely.
Can you find them?
HCwDB of the Month winner shortly. First I gotta scratch myself and enjoy a tasty HoHo.
Monday, February 28, 2011Where’s Collegiate Pudwank Waldouche?
Somewhere in this lineup of pillow fighting state school giggle bobbs named Kelly, all of whom hate math, I’ve carefully hidden a collegiate pudwank Waldouche.
Look closely.
Can you find him asking confused foreign exchange students what their major is?
Thursday, February 24, 2011Where’s Waldouche?: Smuggy Lips Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of Southern Bottle Blondes whose legs all need a triple pooch, I’ve carefully hidden a Smuggy Lips.
Oh sure, you thought he was innocuous at first.
But this story won’t end well.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011Where’s The Spiker?
Somewhere in this area of overpriced bottle service validation and pouty Russian mail order hotties, I’ve carefully hidden aging rocker choad, The Spiker.
Look closely.
Can you ask him to play some Skynyrd?
Wednesday, January 12, 2011King Creeper
This pic of potential sapphic love deserves a reminder of one of the key non-negotiable rules of douchebaggery.
If you interrupt or otherwise pose, in any way shape or form, behind two ladies about to explore the permeable boundaries of gender and sexuality, you are autodouche.
No exceptions.
None.
Not even you, Rajman.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011Where’s Waldouche?: Who Cares Where Waldouche Is Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of tasty pie a la mode ice cream scoop fondle thigh humpty suckles, I’ve carefully hidden some random dude no one cares about, with a boring name, whose sum achievement in life is finishing Halo 3 on the hardest setting in under two hours.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Come to me, Giggle Hotts. I will march a rubber frog dipped in a Midori Sour across each of your bottoms while ritualistically humming Gregorian sea chants and, occasionally, the theme from Flash Gordon.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011Where’s Captain Shnook?
Somewhere in this lineup of two party girls and a Dane Cookbag, I’ve carefully hidden a 19th Century literary figure of early proto-douchebaggery.
Can you find his greasy naval scurvyness?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010Where’s Waldouche? Alpha Beta Carotine Frat Edition
Somewhere in this circular pi of absolutely taut and award winning giggle pie, especially you, Brunette Potential Librarian Suckle Thigh with the Cheap Champagne who routinely has pillow fights with your besties and then rubs yourself with Tea Tree Oil, I’ve carefully hidden a lineup of annoying Fratpud.
Look closely.
Can you “bro” them?
Monday, October 4, 2010Where’s Waldouche?: Party Nerd Edition
Somewhere in this pleasing party pack lineup of exotic hotts mixed with Jerzette, who just really needed a night of the girls cutting loose together, I’ve carefully hidden a well crafted Vegas Party Nerdbag.
However, there can be only one Eddie Deezen.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
