Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Mr. Spittoon Mackles Audrey

TheShmadow

Because greasal pollution of the nation’s suckle taut hott supply is a toxic stench that even Bill Gates poopwater can’t revive through carbonic filtration.

HCwDB lives?…

Well, not so much these days.

But your humb narrs is carrying on as best he can into new permutations. And you’re always welcome to hop in our concptual DeLorean and join the heroic neck-fused DarkSock for more mock back in 2005.

# posted by admin
Saturday, January 10, 2015

Breaking: Tom Jones is a Tangerine

article-0-19CBC4B000000578-996_634x425

The proper caption for this image is:

A) “It’s not unusual to be bronzed by anyone…”

B) What’s New, Skincancer? Whoooa whooa whoooohaaa…”

C) “She’s marmalady… whoa whoa whoa… she’s marmalady.”

D) “I just want your extra time and your…. Sunkist.”

Answer now!

# posted by douchebag1
Saturday, January 3, 2015

2015 Smoot Says “Groooo”

smoot11-725909

Wherein once a Gregorian chant intoned by the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos lilted across the flora of pristine rainforests.

Now a plaintive cry winds its way across the landscape of Vegas bottle service beholden only to hottie/douchey memory.

For it may be a simple syllabic grunt.

A primal gutturality of overextended credit card and extreme cardio pilates.

But it is also an aural beacon. A sonic marker. As if a thousand Israeli Shofars cried out as one and were suddenly douchey.

For within that dulcet pedantic cry lies a blend of emotive purity and pristine pectoral flex.

Smoot hath seen the New Year dawn.

And it is Groooo.

# posted by douchebag1
Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Meaty Meat Santa Pud and The Paid-to-Pose Elven Hotts Wish You and Yours a Jolly Douchey Christmas!!

Christmas4

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, my true blave gave to me… Meaty Meat Santa Pud and the Paid-to-Pose Elven Hotts peeing in the egg noggggg…

Well hello there. Yes. DB1 here. Your humble narrator still wanders the barren landscape of pop culture vibrato.

Still occasionally tripping the riff linguistic with emotive gusto and a packet of HoHos for sustenance.

I may not post all that often these days. But I will do my best to post here and there, or at least every blue moon, in the new year. And then there’s always your noblest of crusaders, DarkSock, leading the regs and bringing the mock via time-travel to 2005.

Christmas may not be my holiday. But it’s most people’s holiday. So on behalf of HC1, BC1, and myself (DB1), here’s hoping you have a Merry Christmas, a Happy post-Hannukah, a Festivus grievance or a Spaghetti Monster’s noodley appendage. Just make sure you never run into this toxic de-coupling, and that the new year will finally see satan’s douche army of Criss Angels macking on tasty brunette cocktail hotts smoted once and for all.

Smited?

Smate?

There is no denying it. The scragglewanks still walk amonst us. Our work is not yet done.

I may no longer lead the daily charge. But I tip my cup of ‘Train to all that carry on this noblest of noblest Tikkun Olam. Fight onward. Mock harder. And repose with an enjoyable, tasty sandwich once in awhile. For that is what the great Warren Zevon recommended before he passed onward to that great kitchen in the sky.

Truer words were never spoken.

# posted by admin
Friday, December 19, 2014

HCwDB Holiday Gift Guide for 2014!

dick on the shelfDarkSock here, with a timely article for the Faithful Reader.

The final hours are drawing nigh for you procrastinating shoppers, but worry not – we’ve worked tirelessly to compile excellent last-minute gift ideas for your kids, whether they’re yours or abducted.

Shall we?

 

Number 1:  “Baby’s First Baby”:

babys first baby

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because your kid’s not getting cast for “15 and Pregnant” unless you start ’em early…

Number 2: “Breast Milk Baby”:

breast-milk-baby

 

 

 

 

 

This reminds me of the Irish Potato Famine of 1845.  Because, y’know, lack-taters…

Number 3: “Pee-n-Poo Plushies”:

pee n poo dolls

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What do you get that 7 year old you just can’t seem to potty train? Why, it’s alimentary, my Dear Watson!

Number 4: “Real Human Teeth Dolls”:

real teeth dolls

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just because Gramma’s gone doesn’t mean parts of her can’t stay with your tikes…in their nightmares…

Number 5: “Road Kill Kitty Stocking Treats”:

road kill kitty

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Help Little Timmy relive the pain of ol’ drunk Uncle John-Earl backing over his beloved Fluffy as he made another beer run last Thanksgiving morning.

“But Darksock”, you wheedle, “what about our kids entering the magic of puberty?”  I gotcha covered.

Number 6: “You Can Shave The Baby”:

you can shave the baby

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cuz it ain’t gonna shave itself…

Number 7: “Testicle & Prostate Plushies”:

testicle_and_prostate

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or as Hannibal Lecter calls them, “The Sweet Meats”.

Number 8: “Frat Party Barbie Playset”:

douche on the shelf

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Consider this popular expansion pack to Frat Party Barbie also:

pregnant_barbie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and of course the surprise free bonus -“Venereals Plushies”:

venereals

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although sometimes we fail to remember that the most special gifts are not those solid tangible objects we can hold in our hands, but rather something more ethereal…such as a wi-fi connected laptop behind Junior’s constantly locked bedroom door.

Elf on the Net

# posted by admin
Monday, December 8, 2014

Somewhere in Sheboygan, A Lone Fartfungusface Twaddles With Kelly

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And as they twaddle, two lonely Bud Light Limes go undranked upon.

# posted by douchebag1
Wednesday, November 26, 2014

The Stuffed Turkwadius

bag 381

And as a nation sits down to celebrate ritual festivity and familial obligation, a lone Turkwadius greases his chin fung uponst the plump, fertile cranberries of a dancer known only as ‘Harvest Season.’ And by polio blankets, I mean the groin itch.

# posted by douchebag1
Saturday, November 15, 2014

If My Psyche Were to Direct a Music Video


It might look like GoGo Yubari by way of Taylor Swift by way of Betty Boop by way of Darksockian horse cosplay by way of hallucinogenic bullet train vending machine sashimi ecto-plasmonic vomitorious technospew.

Or, as Toshiro Mifune might say before committing ritual seppuku at the shame brought upon his once proud culture, ‘Sake it off’…

# posted by douchebag1
Monday, November 10, 2014

The Grumpus Turns Away in Shame

ErosAndAlterity

And, lo, the Grumpus Societal Id contemplates the hottie/douche cohabit as Rashi once studied the butterfly. And then, after due consideration, the Grumpus turns away. In sadness and in shame. She is leaving. She is leaving. But the salacious crud still remains.

Whence our collective gaze doth consider, true enlightenment may or may not follow. It is certainly not assured.

But we must remember that enlightenment is not the goal when poochy cup slap betwixt greasy poo choad and suckle taught lilac takes place.

The process is the enumeration. Or so sayeth the wise ones that once twitched like prime Jerry Lewis in spasmodic temples of yore. One must look. And then one must turn away. To consider. To meditate. To ruminate. To regurgitate. And to watch DVR’d episodes of Deadliest Catch while eating Funyuns and scratching inappropriately.

So do not judge as Grumpus refuses to gaze like carnivorous gazelle. For without averting her eyes, the stench of laundry detergent and semi-employment at the Casino buffet on the midnight to six AM shift would forever remain un-comprehended. And theretofore, unknown.

# posted by douchebag1
Friday, October 31, 2014

Happy ‘Bagoween!!

Halloween2

Ah, yes. The spectacular Pimpbag and his Gaggle of Woo.

Even the leniency of spectacle on this Hallow’s Eve is not enough to excuse douche essence.

Let this post be a shout-out to all ‘bag hunters and huntresses still occasionally dropping in on this creaky bloggy legacy of a previous internet age now banished to myth and legend.

No matter how much Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter take away the authentic voice in favor of a stream of carefully calibrated clickbait stim, HCwDB will remain in its purest form.

I may not post all that often these days. But your humb narrs is still wandering around this vast digital wasteland.

Still horrified at the vacuous state of digitally lubricated party insanity that transforms us into walking billboards of inconspicuous consumption.

Douchebags and party woo hotts may have sublimated their spectacle. But the choadspoo continues to spew like a load of rotting scrotal toad.

The ‘bag/hott dialectics rot the core of spiritual progress that all generations must necessarily undertake. Or abdicate, to the tragic detriment of all.

Enjoy the Hallow’s Eve and all wherefore to come as we head into the days of Turkey and Jesus. But carry on the mock for all to see the enlightment that oh so often penetrates the fog of an overstimulated, exhausted, frantic neutron dance decimated by too much media crotch fondle and not enough clarity.

# posted by douchebag1
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