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.

Epic Duckface.

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.

Douchebaguette Cam.

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:

Porch 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.

Workout enthusiast, master thespian, duck hunter and all around cunning linguist, Brodie, updates his Facebook account:

—–
pretty pleased with what i achieved, used to be a chubby lil f#cka now i like to think i’m doin alright. let me know what you think, drop me a pm if you wanna know what routine i’m on.

—–

I saw Get Ripped Help open for Bad Brains in 1989 and they were awesome.

Here’s a classic case of a late stage-1 or early stage-2 ‘bag. Don’t get me wrong, Morrie’s a pudz, to be sure. Wearing the adouchetributes because he thinks it’ll help him get some quality pear, but his heart just isn’t into it.

Shave the chin pubes, take off the Mandana, lose the bling, and go back to trying (and failing) to get a summer job at Carl’s Jr, Morrie, and all will be forgiven.

As to Vanessa, her heaving bosoms and pale lickable Cleavite reveal require a deep and cleansing Windex scrub using only the softest of imported Tuscan toilet paper.

Wonderbread lake turds,
Burnt to a douchebag crisp,
No hott, so here’s pear.

Douches forgot their
SPF. God smites them with
nuclear sun rays.

– Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifelt

Call Carl Spackler
to get three pieces of poo
out of Bushwood Lake

– dknutty

Overcome by fumes
Burnt by the tanning bed sun
Twin choads flank MILF Hott

– SonnyChibaChoad

Oil slick rises up
Takes a semi-human form
and poses for pic.

– Hot Buttered Poopcorn

Microscope view shows
paramecium party;
single brain cell ‘bags.

– Wheezer

Fart squealching grimace
Proud choads pose with their mom
Won chili contest

– Vin Douchal

Tony’s blue blockers
Can’t stop Tina’s fake knockers
All three are Fokkers

– saulgoode42

Lake trip mem’ries fade
But some things last forever
Like melanoma

– Mr. Scrotato Head

I don’t care if you’ve committed no other culture crimes whatsoever.

No Groin Shave Reveal, no bizarre facial fung, no orange tan, no spikey faux, no Axe bodyspray, no tribal tatts, no hand gestures, no popped collar and no excessive bling.

If you wear a speedo, you are autodouche.

No exemptions.

No one wants to see your bits, Mike. I realize you’re a salesman at Best Buy in Reno, and this is your one weekend to let loose, but no excuses. You are ‘Bag.

Carrie and Corrie, I realize both of you need to eat a cheeseburger. But I will forgive you your lack of caloric intake by massaging your ankles with melted garlic and a touch of ginger. Because I care.

Fight the good fight,
Dex
—–

Tattoos are not inherently autodouche, but they are an early warning signifier, a “Here There May Be Douche” signpost on the body. Some tatts, however, are tasteful and artistic, and if not displayed obnoxiously, are not automatically ‘bag.

Excessively bad tattoos, however, of meaningless “cool” insignias (tribal tatts, skulls, etc) are a stage-3 uberscrote.

The key is not in the tattoos, but in their display in service of larger douchebaggery.

We haven’t featured some quality meaty meat bouncer douches on the site in awhile, so here’s Biff, working to pay off his parole one night shift at “Club Pure” at a time.

Even with 1970s porn star chin pube and tribal tatt, I kinda like Biff’s self awareness, so I’m going stage-2. Douchey, but redeemable.

Mmmm… Courtney and Michelle. Middle age ladies should burn and rage at closing of the rope. So do not go gentle into that good VIP section. Rage, rage, against the fading of the tight.

Shifty Shawn reeks of DJ Douchepoo aura and smug entitlement as he bothers the delightfully pure and filtered glass of hottwater that is Ambiguously Eastern European Elisa.

But without more obvious adouchetributes, do we have enough evidence to convict?

Mmmm… Ambiguously Eastern European Elisa. I would listen to your high pitched laugh over your inability to understand English, and then I would awkardly follow you to the bathroom, inexplicably get jealous of the catering guy who offers you a pig in a blanket, then wait outside the bathroom until security asked me to leave. And then I would go to In-n-Out and enjoy a tasty double double.

-A

—-

Have faith, A, and when you get your ass back stateside, I’m giving you one more mission: Hott Saving. To paraphrase the Torah, he who saves one Hott from a preening pretend tough-guy douchebag, saves the world.

You’ve served your country. Now, when you get home, get to work saving the hott from the ‘bag. Only then will your mission be accomplished.

I haven’t seen alien plant fung take over a body like that since Doctor Who fought the Krynoid.

Yeah, that’s right. 1970s Doctor Who references.

If you don’t like it, The Dirty is just down the virtual street.

Mmmm… Nikki’s swollen aboobdages call to me like the stolen jello molds I kept under the bed as a child and anthropomorphized by drawing sharpie faces on them. Don’t judge me. Jello Mold imaginary friends got me through 9th grade.