Thoughts and Links
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Friday, February 3, 2012
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Friday Thoughts and Links
Chin pubes?
More like 70s chin bush by way of Rip Van Winkle werewolf Sy Sperling miracle gro Chia Pet Star Trek Genesis Project Doctor Who hirsute regeneration formula number nine.
Or something like hat.
And boobs.
Good bless the inner sideboob revealing dress. Take that Victorian Era!
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Book Pick of the Week: “In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.”
The great people of Chicago honor the late, great, Don Cornelius with an imprompu Soul Train dance-off. Peace, love and soul, Mr. Cornelius. Sorry to learn how much pain you were in, but may you find peace in the next world.
For a weekend geekgasm: Every Doctor Who Episode Ever in one montage. Zygons for the win.
Speaking of Who, a ‘bag hunter nearly had a whobag jumpoff heart attack when perusing the wine aisle recently.
New Zealand wins a major battle against Douchal Earth! Massive props to the Kiwis as the tide starts to turn.
Mr. Britney Spears fondles the Future Ex-Mrs. DB1. And a piece of my uvula dies.
A longtime fan of HCwDB asks us to check out his teenage son’s new photography website. and throw him some support. My readers have teenage sons?
When you watch the white rage in our political process today, read Jourdon Anderson’s 1865 letter to his former Master and remind yourself where it comes from. Condescending asswipes making jokes about “food stamps” because they’re still pissed they lost their slaves.
Champagne Katie at the Prom is the greatest image in the history of images.
Who says indie film is dead?
Uhm, yeah. Actually I do. I say it’s dead. Dead as Bingham Ray.
Speaking of indie film, the great Bobcat Goldthwait’s new movie looks genius: God Bless America (trailer). And it’s a cast reunion from One Crazy Summer.
Okay, here it is, you’ve earned it:
Mmmm… Eight slices of doughy pumperfondle.
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Wrist Stud Collars.
Keeping wrists protected in case a medieval battle breaks out at high school keggers since 2008.
But Ananda’s large proboscuous boobtasteries perk onward until dawn.
And the lion sleeps with the lamb, knowing full well future babies will be adequately suckled.
Here’s your mostly 1980s nostalgia hued links:
Your HCwDB Book Pick of the Week: “I did a lot of drugs because I wanted to do a lot, I wanted to push all the way to the very very end, and see if I could die.” – Martin Scorsese. “Popcorn pictures have always ruled. Why do people go see them? Why is the public so stupid? That’s not my fault.” — George Lucas
Thanks again to Draft Street for the Freeroll fantasy game they threw for us last week. If you’re diggin’ the site as a sponsor, or won some of that sweet sweet cash with your mad skills, drop me a line. We might try to do another one when baseball season starts.
George Clooney looks amazingly young in his latest film, props to the entire team at ILM. (starts :50 in)
Five Horrible Life Lessons Learned From Teen Movies. So true. But nothing about how Aryans were more popular than you in high school?
Football player Terrell Suggs brings some HCwDB mock to the game.
Just think what America would be like today if they’d kept the original ending of First Blood. Rambo can still eat things that make a billy goat puke.
Anatomy of an urban thug. Answers a lot of questions.
Fratty douchebag asswipe runs for the Senate. Stay classy, Fratbrosephus.
Best Video of the 1980s. Celebrate its genius.
But you are not here to watch the DB1 continue to relive his lost 80s youth in Rosebudian fashion. You are here for Pear:
The sofa chair may be inexpensive and tacky, but the Pear is pure and suckle chomp.
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Trustfund Asswipes at Miami lingerie parties with paid-to-pose hotties punch the Baby Tebus in the nads.
And that’s about all I have to say about that one.
But at least there’s Real World Champagne Katie Pier Pear to keep me hopeful.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Horror Pick of the Week: “”I was not pure. The teleporter insists on inner pure. I was not pure.”
Last chance to get in on the free HCwDB one-day NBA Fantasy Game that Draft Street is throwing in our honor tonight (cutoff to draft is 7pm EST). Help support the site, draft a team and check out Draft Street, and lemme know if you win some cash.
Right. Now. Loblaws is! Having a. Huge. Fro. Zenfood. Sale.
I’ll take Dutch Ovens for $800, Alex.
Rob Schneider participates in the classic Ugly Comedian With Hot Wife sitcom subgenre. Still beats the odious herpstercom trend with shows like “Two Broke Girls” and “New Girl.”
Hip Hop Flute. Played by a future hottie 15 year old Asian Design Major. The hat is douchey but the talent is undeniable.
The future of douchewear. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
In Russia, boob grab you!
Douchebag Merit Badges. Now if only I Could get an HCwDB iPad app designed.
Wanna play a game? See if you can spot the subtle product placement in this clip from Hawaii 5-0. Look closely! It’s subtle.
Lately, I’ve randomly become obsessed with 1970s-era Jacqueline Bisset. And by randomly, I mean boobs.
But you are not here for Wet T-Shirt boobs. Oh wait, you probably are. But you’re also here for Pear:
Totally perfect. And totally perfect.
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Oh Tiny Dancer Maria, ye of the award winging gazanga gnaws.
How I’ve missed your curvy giggles that shake your frame like a caffeinated Shake Weight ™.
You guide me true on this Friday aft.
Here’s your links:
A profound and unfolding tragedy has shaken me to my very core: Hostess is entering Chapter-11. We have not been doing our part to consume tasty snack cakes with creamy filling.
Nik Ritchie’s craptastic “The Dirty” continues to smell like poo.
For those of us who grew up in the 80s, read Omni Magazine, and thought the leap in perspective from Space Invaders to Zaxxon was revolutionary: Battlestar Gallactica As it Was Meant to Be Told. In 64 Bit. With lots of deserved snark.
Guy Fieri, honorary Douchebag of the Month from June of 2008, now has a drinking game.
Call your Doctor if your Election Lasts Longer Than Four Hours.
You know who also thinks the South by Southwest festival is filled with pretentious herpster shoescrape? Hitler.
But you are not here for tired Hitler memes. You are hear for Pear.
Mmmm… Fruit of the Bloom.
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Feeling relaxed in the New Year?
Just remember. White Trash Uberwipes are dating your ex-girlfriend.
With giant f-ing lobes. Seriously. WTF with the lobes?
On to the rest.
Nice to see the site fire back up in the New Year, and props to all bringing continuing A-Game to the threads. The mock must continue. Oh yes. It must continue.
Your humble narrator is still hard at work peddling his wares in the dark streets of Hollywood. The whoreness is overwhelming.
But there are always In-n-Out burgers to guide the way. Those are some good burgers, Dude.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “No. I want that feeling. The feeling that comes over a man when he gets exactly what he desires. I need that feeling!”
File under “those crazy kids”: Vodka Tampons. For when drinking orally is just so 2011.
Raiders of the Lost Ark: Geekgasm Edition
The future ex-Mrs.DB1 continues to grow into pure Semitic Librarian Suckle Woo.
The coolest dogs know how to groove to acoustic guitar.
If I were you, I definitely would not click on a link that’s called Greek Banana Horse Crotch.
The Jersey Shore continues epic cash-generating douchebag merchandising. The DB1 is not paid residuals.
Ladies, if you ever want to make your man happy, dress as Judy Jetson. Judy Jetson was hot. But Jane was milfy.
But you are not only here for milfy Jane Jetson. You are also here for pear:
Pear that sends soldiers into war on the dreams of a whiff of hiney wipe.
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Well, it’s still a few days away, but merry 2012, homeslices and fellow alcoholics!!
The apocalypse may be upon, but there’s always room for Jello.
Another year has passed.
2012 will being new forms of mock, known and unknown.
But for now, we imbibe.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Pulp Noir Book Pick of the Week: “I kissed her, a long hard kiss. Because baby didn’t know it, but baby was dead, and in a way I couldn’t have loved her more.”
Funny or Die gets on the HCwDB mockin’ train with Guido Jesus
Shawn Valentino Wants To Make All Your Fantasies Come True. I’m hoping that includes him drinking a vat of Drano.
When Naked 300lb Bodybuilders Attack!
For sale: Douche Jar. If only I’dda marketed these back in ‘07.
Trader Joes gets in on the HCwDB Holiday Spirit.
Somewhere in this video, I’ve carefully hidden herpster arm. Look closely. Can you find it? Mmm… Annoying Giggle Boobs.
But enough about herpster arm and stripper giggle boobs that actually spell out “OMG” when riding in a car for the first time. Lets get to your New Years Pear:
Because everyone makes a New Years Resolution that they’ll go to the gym more often in the New Year. Even Pears.
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Oh, Christmas.
You come but once a year. With bad 1950s music. And tiny plug-in lights on self-righteous houses. You bring dysfunctional alcoholic WASP families together to not speak authentically, and allow people to pretend they’re altruistic for a few weeks.
And you even brings HCwDB, Christmas style.
Site’s gonna be on reduced posting for the next few weeks, but I’ll be posting a’somethin’ every day to keep you on your toes.
As to this Christmas HCwDB pic, well hot damn, we have our first entrant for the 2012 “Douchiest Pose” Douchie Award, now don’t we. Or perhaps an entrant for my 2023 Guggenheim Show. Or Best Ass Pear? We shall see.
And yes, I missed the 2011 Douchie Award for Best Pear. But Best Pear will be handed out in a special New Years Douchie Award. So stay tuned.
In the meantime, enjoy your holiday linkage. It goes well with Christmas dinner and family dysfunction. And while I’m not a Christian, and therefore tend not to celebrate holidays with “Christ” in the name, some of my best friends are Christians. They’re very glad to meet me. And they have stock tips. And are very polite. And enjoy alcohol.
Here’s your Christmasy Links:
Your HCwDB Holiday DVD: “This ain’t no Chinese menu, jagoff! I tell YOU how it’s gonna be. This is pricks fix!”
Bags R’ Us is on Facebook. Of course it is.
Lawyers. The new douchebags. Or perhaps the old ones.
Ice Cube brings architectural appreciation O.G. style.
Sometimes, when you’re bored and living in Nigeria, it’s time to just sing about vagina.
The shitfest of a website that is “Holy Taco” continues to rip off my writing style and douche-humor without so much as a link back. I can’t tell which site I hate worse, Holy Taco, The Dirty, or The Chive. All are lame internet vampires that suck off the living.
Investment Banker Mike, spurned by a woman after a first date, writes her the creepiest and douchiest email of 2011.
Christmas rule: Never eat cocaine out of your brother’s butt. You could die. Especially if you’re Ricky Williams.
Don’t look at this. I told you not to look at that.
Christmas Rule #2: Don’t finger-bang a Chihuahua.
But you are not here for Chihuahua finger banging. Well, perhaps you are. But either way, you’ve been good. You’ve earned it.
Or, if you need a little more revelation in your stockings:
Mmmm… mattressy. Leave off the last “S” for suckle gnaw.
Merry something. Ho Ho HoHos.
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Mandana juicers make me ponderous and pondifacatorial on this Friday before the 2011 Douchies.
But Becoming Ubiquitous Clear Cup reassures.
Your humble narrator continues to fight the good fight in Hollywood, trying to sell new shows and dealing with the poo and the pee that form cultural dialectic in this wayward city of desert angels and arid, fecund peacockery.
So I munch on a saltine. And call it even.
Here’s your links:
Save your time with free content for websites from Article Writing Services. (Resource Link)
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week” I know you want to work for Mo Fuzz. And Mo Fuzz wants you to. But first, I’m going to need to you do something for me… on spec.”
From England: Smells like Poo.
Speaking of tatts… Cracked presents: If tattoos told the truth.
Natalie Portman, Semitic pixie librarian hott and future ex-Mrs.DB1, is turning her baby boy into a ‘bagling.
Who’s getting hired at Rite-Aid these days? Read the fine print.
The internets. Where 19 year old girls go for attention. Boobs.
Speaking of hot chick philosophers: Believing in celestial orbs to reveal a divine truth is nonsense.
And speaking of hot chick spawn of famous hockey players, Wayne Gretzky’s daughter is gettin’ slapshotty. And yes, I had to link to the thieves over at The Chive for that one. I feel dirty.
Reader DanEBoy decides to read a Scooby Doo book to his kids, is shocked to discover Velma is displaying G.S.R.
Need holiday gifts for friends, family and loved ones on this holiday season? Buy it already, Bitch. It’s on sale.
For boxing fans, HCwDB gets a nice shout-out in a column about what a douche boxer Antonio Margarito is.
Toxic manwhore Ann Coulter got “bleeped” when she called John McCain a “Douchebag” on MSNBC. Well isn’t this a case of the pot calling the kettle a fascist manwhore.
But you are not here for toxic facist manwhorery. No matter your political persuasion, I offer you:
Inappropriate Outerwear for Fall Weather Pear
Only because I worry that Kelly might catch cough.
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Party tools on Black Friday make my uvula itch.
Last night I saw a line around the block outside of a Best Buy waiting to get in at midnight. If ever there was evidence of our misplaced social priorities, fetishization consumption rituals are it.
What a disgrace “Black Friday” is. The complete breakdown in meaning in which we become imprinted to seek shiny happy baubles of future-dom as the means by denying the larger truths of mortality, friendship, love, communication and intimacy.
No, Call of Duty 3, on sale for the next 24 hours, won’t solve the gnawing crises underneath the conscious mind, your deluded fools outside Best Buy, worshiping at the feet of the Glitter God of Mass Market Ritual. You can try to entertain yourself out of extended reflection, but it won’t work.
Consume, they tell us. Obey, and happiness awaits.
But boobies lead to truth. As do those out there resisting the bullshit right now and calling for an adjustment in national priorities, and getting mocked on the teevee “news” for it. So both give me hope.
Here’s your abbreviated Thanksgiving links:
Hot chicks love animals and guys who love animals, like guys who attend vet tech schools.
(Resource Link)
Your HCwDB Book Pick of the Week: “Historically, the most terrible things – war, genocide, and slavery – have resulted not from disobedience, but from obedience.”
From Zinn, we go to The Worst Image in the History of Images.
Here’s another reason why most hot chicks should not attempt comedy.
Referencing classic ’80’s Fishbone and insulting Michelle Bachman to her face without her knowing? Jimmy Fallon is my new hero. Dammit, I should’ve taken that offer to go on his show two years ago.
Speaking of jerky politicians, Senator Sam Brownback proves his douchedom, complains about a student saying mean things about him on Twitter.
Looking for new forms of eroticism? Try the Comma Sutra.
In Florida, a Transgendered woman posed as a doctor and injected cement into a woman’s butt. Be glad you don’t live there.
In 1969, a pre-Muppets Jim Henson wrote, starred in, and directed, a nine minute experimental short film that was nominated for the Academy Award. You know you want to watch it. For it is genius.
In honor of Mr. Henson, have some:
May you fraggle its rocks.
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There is much about vaginal peace signs by Boris Russinsky hitting on Russian Poverty Model Hott that rankles the heart of a poet.
I’m not that poet. His name is Tim. He lives down the street and smells like patchouli and rice cakes.
I have little to offer in the ways of wisdom on this Friday in Los Angeles, other than the advice of the great Olympian Carl Lewis:
“I like hurdles.”
Here’s your links
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Why am I talking to you? You’re not a man, you’re a cat! Go back to your feline world!”
Yoga for Bros? “Broga?” In my hometown of Boston? For shame, Beantown. For shame.
Turkish Hottness. Like strong coffee and emancipated Islam.
What movie am I most excited to see this Holiday Season? Sandsharks. “Because your party isn’t on the sand. It’s on ice.” (no idea what that means)
Somewhere in Raveland America,… the kids aren’t all right.
Mila Kunis’s Semitic Russian hottness proves the folly of the nativist reactionary anti-Trotsky pogroms of the early 20th Century.
Can boobs ever be too large? Uhm… okay, yes.
But you are not here for grotesque mammaries. You are here for Pear:
Because coy pouting is also a form of pre-coitus.
And on that lameass pun, I crack a bottle of Mad Dog and scratch myself obliquely.
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