Sheldon “P-Funk” Epstein Rocks the “Kitchen Danze”
Nothing tells the Hotties of Harrisburg High that you’re “gangsta” quite like Puca Shells and Ubquitous Red Cup.
Well, maybe totally pwning the S.A.T.s.
The Eyes of Larry Mars
Don’t look it in the eyes!!
Too late.
Your first born will now have an affinity for prunes.
Swim Team Stephanie never spoke to you in High School. And she won’t speak to you now, either.
Rosary Bling Still Sucks
Yeah you, Todd.
Take your Silverlake Stubble ™, your vintage turntable collection, the fact you claim your dad once toured with “The ‘Jovi back in Jersey” with both ironic and genuine pride, and your affinity for Blue Moon beer, and stick where the Jesus and Mary chain can’t abide.
Young Mom Carol attends all the P.T.A. meetings in a miniskirt. And for that, even the short bus kids applaud with their ice creams and mittens and go “Yayyy!”.
Headwound Harry Approves of the HCwDB of the Week
Oh lithe Monica Triplets, how you paddle each other with ping pong paddles in the green room of your overpriced pseudo-Gothic Orange County strip mall nightclub while you wait on call to pretend to like Head Wound Harry for 10 bucks an hour before the Armenian club owner, Mr. Hackloogian, makes untoward advances in a leering and unprofessional manner at 2am.
I see each of your suckle thighs in the basest of carnal senses, and raise you an awkward arm fondle.
HCwDB of the Week: Crotch Johnson and the Sara Bikini Hotties
With two weeks to review since last week was the Monthly, this week’s winning/losing couple wasn’t easy to pick.
We had the heinous monstrosity that is Poppa Squatter. Phlippy’s White Man Overbite. The crypto-bronze gayery and confused doe hott of Crazy Eyes Killa (Jared) and Svetlana.
There were prefect suckle chaw grapefruits in Nayara and the Grapefruits.
There was the Nipple That Ruined Civilization.
There was Pear. And there was Perfect Pear.
We even had the nihilist apocalypse that was The Sons and Daughters of Porsche.
But something about Crotch Johnson’s heinous display of douchery and the quality underfed anorsexia of the Sara Bikini Hotties was too toxic to ignore.
Last week’s Monthly was a tough one, and Crotch Johnson and the Saras will be formidable in the next one. Chalk ’em up for the Monthly, and your hungover back-in-L.A. narrator for Pops.
Jedward: Eurobaggery Continues
Remember Jedward?
Yeah, me neither.
Apparently, we featured these clowns on the site a few years ago. Well, they is back.
And by back, I mean a triple vomitorium of regurgitated ass suck.
Comment of the Week: Count DeDouchebags
Newbie Count DeDouchebags wins the coveted Comment of the Week with his brief yet on-point narration of the story of Crotch Johnson and the Sara Bikini Hotties:
—–
Noon: Oh, yeah!!! Vegas baby!! VIP at the pool!!
1:00 pm: I’m Crotch Johnson, from Omaha, Muthafukas!! Look at these bitches!! Woo Hoo!!! Bring me another bottle!!
2:00 pm: Crystal… HELL YEAH!! I love Crystal!! another bottle, dammit!!
3:00 pm: WADDAYAMEAN it gonna be $500 each? I thought you chicks were really into me!!!?
4:00 PM: …Yes, sir, $4500… If you don’t pay your bill, I’m going to have to call the police immediately…
5:00 pm: Dude…. come on man… bail my ass out!!!
—–
Sort of says it all.
Oh, and here’s a random picture of Patriotic Speedo Crotch Guy and Unfortunate Victim of Limited Life Opportunities By Virtue of Being Born in a Small Town Hottie for your Saturday perusal.
Friday Thoughts and Links
Taxi Belt. Must be Friday.
For those wondering, last week’s vote to consider Barely Legal Kelly for our hallowed Hall of Hott didn’t come close.
However it reminded me how many quality boobie hottie suckle thighs we’ve featured over the past few months. Maybe it’s time we held a vote.
Got your favorite hottie? Post the title in the comments thread and in a week or so, we’ll see which suckle taut deserves consideration.
Your humble narrator remains in New York for a few more days, where the stalking of East Village lithe chomp hotts with iProducts continues.
As does perfect New York pizza. Get your own slice here.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Damn! You rise out of the grave and run out of ammunition!”
Remember kids, true HCwDB Hall of Scrote legends don’t fade away. They just begin to resemble confused bonobo monkeys.
Five year old unholy demon spawn of pretty boy Bush/Blur singer guy from 1996 and pretend punk Gwen Stephani is rapidly being turned into a faux skater douchewipe. Sorry, kid. You were doomed from birth.
Too much gas? Try the wind relieving yoga pose.
In the future, could iScreeners help? Or hurt? What if the ladies find out about my alpaca fetish?
Bug Penis is Loud. But you knew that.
The Russian Soccer Team will now play in bikinis. And the Bolshevik revolution is complete.
But you are not just here for Russian soccer hotties in bikinis. Although you should be. Here’s your Pear:
Enjoy. For the weekend, as is wont to happen after half a fortnight has passed, is upon us again.
Buddha Took a Dump
The DB1’s Friday To-Do List:
* Brush teeth
* sniff underarms, consider wiping with paper towel
* scratch crotch
* Enjoy tasty HoHos and a fifth of the ‘Train for breakfast
* Pick up alpaca food at Bob’s Country Bunker
* View this pic, ponder the waste of what’s left of human achievement as it sinks into cultural collapse
* do the dishes
Friday Haiku
Pre-arranged marriage:
Cultural Institution!
As is Suicide.
Geordi La Forge
Got a post-Star Trek fwip for
Three Way to Heaven
– The Dude
Unfortunately,
her shirt looks like a torn jock-
strap across her chest
– idfma
Asian robot clown
She’s not happy to be there
I’ll have the number 23
– Et Tu Douche?
Earthlings privy to,
close encounters of turd kind
E.T. Slits his wrists
– hermit android thumbs
Welding accident
left helmet fused to his head
it’s better that way
– Medusa Oblongata
Lead paint in our toys
And now this in our night clubs
China brings down West
– Mr. Scrotato Head
