Happy Labor Day!!
From all us here at HCwDB. And by all of us, I mean me. And the occasional horse peer.
Remember to take a moment to honor the labor movements of history as you BBQ your burgers and dogs. For without them, your sorry ass would’ve been cleaning chimneys at 9 years old.
Regular updates resume tomorrow. Today, we drink, burp, scratch and recline.
Where’s Jean-Claude Van Damme?
Inspired by a Vin Douchal comment in the Unibro thread, we’re gonna play a little Labor Day Weekend game.
Somewhere in this trailer for one of the more hilariously dated of 1980s cinema, I’ve carefully hidden a boogying Jean-Claude Van Damme in a unitard.
Look closely.
Can you give him the clap?
Comment of the Week: Douche Wayne
Douche Wayne invects on the state of youth marketing and consumer product fetishization in last week’s ‘Bag Daddy ‘Bag thread and wins the coveted HCwDB Comment of the Week.
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As I stroll through the New Jersey malls with my own sons searching for stores that still sell cd’s, I witness these crimes firsthand.
Jackass “fathers” dressing their own children like jackasses. Small children with small hats with small tilts. I’ve seen toddlers wearing gold chains and wifebeaters.
Nikes come in sizes clearly not designed for children who actually old enough to walk, yet the price of those shoes assume they have already started NBA careers. It’s not just the males; 4-year old bleeths are rampant making my wife and I not-so-secretly thankful we don’t have daughters.
I weep inside, knowing that those children, much like those born into street gangs (Blood drop fo’evah, yo), don’t stand a chance.
I remind my boys of their grandfather’s sage observation: “No one is completely useless. You can always serve as a bad example.”
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Labor Day Weekend Thoughts and Links
In this, the age when politicians routinely piss on the working class of this country, it’s important for us to take a moment remember what Labor Day really stands for.
Those among us who aren’t wealthy, beautiful celebrities or powerful wall street titans.
Those among us who don’t blow all their time and money on a life of privilege getting stupid tatts and spikey hair and lounging by the poolside in Vegas.
The regular joes.
The people who used to be celebrated by this country as the backbone of our nation are now seeing themselves targeted as criminals, called lazy, shiftless, or deserving of what they’ve gotten. Rich and powerful clowns, coming from the same narcissistic cesspool that produced douchebag culture, now routinely equate the labor class with failing in life.
These preening egos in suits and ties, douchebags of the worst sort, get on our TV and lecture us like their money means they are enlightened. They actually believe, or have convinced themselves, that their money was earned because of the greatness of their “individualism.” In a vacuum. And the rest of us need to be like them. Or we get what we deserve.
These flaming pudwacks who’ve read too many Ayn Rand fantasy novels are insecure enough not to want to understand the network around them in which they are graced to live. How those at the bottom also produce the value they think they “earn” from the society that holds the rules and structures together to produce our collective national wealth.
Don’t be one of those asswipes.
Remember what Labor Day really stands for. Income does not define your rank in this world, no matter what how the media now stigmatizes and shames those at the bottom as lazy and shiftless.
There are different standards. Standards we used to apply before a few billionaires with too much power and too much insecurity decided to teach us all the lessons of fantasy in which they are Atlas, and we are the teaming hordes, the unwashed, clawing at their greatness.
F@#k them. No one “earns” a billion dollars. It’s not possible. They are not heroes. They are insecure fools, confused by their success and seeking a philosophy to justify their narcissism. Even a philosophy as fantastical as Scientology and as logical as Narnia.
I’ll take the guys in front of Home Depot over the jackass from Wall Street any day of the week and twice on Sunday. And on Monday, I’ll tip my Ubiquitous Red Cup to honor those who don’t have anything, but still get up and go to work every day.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “If a fox stole your chickens… Would you slaughter your pig because he saw the fox? No. You would hunt the fox… You would find where it lives and destroy it! And how do we do this? Become a fox.”
Speaking of foxes and chickens, if you feel like trippin’ out this weekend, dig the Animal Beatbox. Skip to 1:50 for a glimpse into the DB1’s secret fantasies.
Leisure Diving. Photographic genius and summer slackerdom in one creative package.
My latest quartasian (alas not Semitic) semi-celebrity hottie fixation is Marie Digby, singer or something. I would sexy love her legs for a fortnight or six.
An eagle-eyed reader trolls the web for porn and discovers HCwDB Hall of Pear legend Ass Pear LaPlante has been hijacked! Ransom is only $1.99 for unlimited downloads.
Pink Dudes Want to Party. Hot chicks don’t.
Finally, a justification for Facebook. Remember, it’s not bestiality if you groom them first.
If I had to pinpoint the exact moment I first discovered the compelling power of the uberhott, it would be when I first saw this scene from “Malibu Bikini Shop” on HBO in 1986. Barbara Horan changed everything about my understanding of life. And sort of for the worse. The desire to gnaw has never stopped plaguing my waking and dream lives like a propulsive compulsion of redirected primal humpty hump.
You aren’t a true Lebowski fan unless you can argue either for or against The Donny Theory.
Speaking of humpty hump, let us not forget how even nature likes to remind us of the Pear. As we appearciate:
Less meaty than her American cousin Pears, it is still firm of chewtoy. And well worth guiding us into the weekend.
Have a great Labor Day. Posts’ll continue a little over the weekend, and then we’se gearin’ up again next week.
Slash: ‘Bag / Nottabag via the Rockstar Leniency Rule
Here’s an interesting test of the Rockstar Leniency Rule.
This pic is from Slash’s recent wedding. While no one denies Slash’s impact on music and talents as a guitarist, his style has always been part of the dress up performativity from his GnR days. Thus the hat, hair, etc. are a sort of costume likened to a fictional presence, and therefore performative.
That being said, it’s hard not to find Slash pretty damn douchey, as many have debated.
I’m on the fence. Certainly the top hat look was RLR, just as it was for Axl Rose’s mandana thing.
But twenty five years later? Middle age? David Lee Roth knew when to give up the spandex and rocker hair.
Does Slash’s ‘tude cross over and earn ‘bag status? Or does RLR continue?
Friday Haiku
Tina Topps kicks off
The Burning Mamm Festival
With Sammy SmallHands.
Nice try, mini-me
Your small hands cannot hide her
vast…..disappointment.
— Wedgie
“What’s ‘taters, Precious?”
asks Gollum as he fondles
over-ripe melons.
— Douche Wayne
Free mammogram sign
Misleads southern hott once more;
Brother doesn’t care.
— Ed Hardouche
Short, slutty, and
Carrying giant tits is
A great startin point.
— Reverend Chad Kroeger
Basketball tryouts
At Pismo Beach this weekend;
Sammy Is ready.
— Medusa Oblongata
With one push of her
nipple, Sam got free drinks all
day for the whole crowd.
— Dr. Bunsen HoneyDouche
With every boob press
There came a wet plop on floor;
Pile o’ fetuses.
— Elastic Snap-Hole of the Love Bear
Ask DB1: The Baby Daddy ‘Bag?
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DB1,
I propose a new Douche category: The Baby Daddy Douche.
We have all seen them, as we enjoy an adult beverage sitting outside our favorite pubs. Here they come,proudly pushing their progeny in a cheap umbrella handle stroller that they bought at the Goodwill.
Wifebeater??.. check. Wife beater tucked into their halfway down their ass, oversized manpries??.. check. Chin fung.??.. check. 30 degree hat tilt on their Yankee’s hat.??.. check. Crappy lime green tats on arms,back and neck??… check.
Unfortunately,you will never see a Baby Daddy Douche on HCWDB.The reason,you only see a Baby Daddy Douche with his larger then life baby momma, who is wearing a pair of jeggings stretched paper thin by her large backside,and a pablum stained mumu top.Oh,and the babies hands tattooed on their cleavage.
Your opinion please.
sincerely,
the Flying Douche
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Good point, TFD. The Baby Daddy Douche is rarely seen on HCwDB because the BDD is rarely with hot chick. Since he’s ruined his douchin’ years by not wearin’ a raincoat during the proverbial coital windstorm and is now in hock for child support and alimony until that scratch ticket investment plan finally pays off.
Lets go with some K-Fed/Britney remembrances of things past (Proust) as we delve into the nostalgia of yesteryear to illustrate the concept.
The Unibro
The Unibro is, how you say, a peemp.
Not a pimp.
A peemp.
It’s like a pimp.
Only hairier.
Sanjine and Pritya have curves that make Vishnu high ten Ganesh.
Livee the Dream
Over 18.
Under 21.
Straight pimpin’ rollin’ gangsta style in Woodland Hills, California at 3pm on a Tuesday.
The Billybag Brothers and Tiny Amanda Hott Go to a Frat Party
Which is douchier, the douche tatt done in ink or the douche tatt done in magic marker?
Who is more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?
But, as always, we’ve learned that Jesus died for your chest shave.
And that Leopard Boobies cure Lupus. Pass it on.
