Beware the Blue Feather Hottie
The Zoastrians predict that a Blue Feather Hottie bearing the Mayan Eye of Coitus will someday mate with Gozer the Destroyer of Worlds to form a Stay Puft D.J. Asswipe with dog tags and stupid belt.
Or I could be getting my sophomore year ancient religions class mixed up with 80s movies references again.
Which has been happening to me ever since I took Introduction to Quantum Bueller II Freshman year.
Too Tight Tony Runs With the Goose
There are many things rotten in the proverbial “Denmark” that is our collective Jungian unconscious.
Deep seeded anger issues against the constraints of modern discourse.
Desire and denials to touch boobies in high school.
And then there’s Pud Joe, aka Too Tight Tony.
Who sucks on a fully conscious level.
And does not require complex analytical mapping to discuss the suckitude.
Rachel and her Besties giggle like waterfalls and like to pop popcorn and watch “House.”
Jesus Chest Guy and Buff Kimberly Voted
Your standard issue Jesus Chest Guy and Buff Kimberly decided to drop by and vote in the HCwDB of the Month.
Have you voted yet?
HCwDB of the Month
It’s a brand new week and your humble narrator is ready to rumble. So lets crank it up. Lets get things poppin’. Lets mock some choad and lust their hotts.
I need you. To bring it. Here’s your nominees:
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: The Poos Brothers and Terézia
Classic Vegas schroad?
Perhaps.
But the Twinbaggery is stereo, and not just Stereodouchtonic.
The Poos Brothers are bringing the stupid face.
Terézia has brought the creepily yet sexily high belly button pooch belly into play.
Together they form the alchemy of a pure hottie/douchey mixture of frothy alpaca cud.
But enough to win the Monthly?
Lets see what else we have. Oh yeah, this one:
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: Minnesota Marnie and Dieter
Dieter is so wrong, a euphretes desert gecko named Ron just shed six layers of skin and coughed up a half digested cricket roach.
Which is pretty damn wrong.
If you think about it.
Minnesota Marnie isn’t impressed by Hyundais.
But she is impressed by tasty soda pop on television sets.
I have no idea what I’m saying. Lets move on:
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: Mister Zebracrotch and Karnie
Oldsack.
Hangs like lumpy oatmeal in the breeze.
Marnie wants money.
That wasn’t a haiku. It was simple truth, W.H. Auden style.
Because when people mess with me, like Zebracrotch embracing quality lady kind, then I bust the ole’ English poet inspired quality smackdown free verse.
Like 8 Mile.
Only with more Longfellow.
Speaking of Longfellow, where’s Bubbles? Maybe she can help me straighten it out.
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: The Tardopoulous Brothers and Stephanie McGee
The second of our two Tag Team Douchers in the Monthly Finals, the Tardopoulous Brothers are East Coast “Brah!” pudwankery.
In fact, Vegas oddsmakers figure they might split “bros” the vote, letting one of the other nominees slip in for the win.
Are the oddsmakers correct?
Or can the tonguey punchworthiness of the Tardopolous and the tasty boobie bouncy of Stephanie McGee triumph (lose)?
That’s where I need you to come in.
Only one of these four can make the Yearly.
And it must be the best, choadiest slice of wrongness of the four.
Which rises to the top (bottom) of the pile?
Vote, as ever, in the comments thread.
The BBC Presents: Human Planet’s “The Douche”
If New Line hadn’t chickened out and put the HCwDB movie in turnaround, this is pretty close to what it would’ve looked like.
Ask DB1: Sunglasses on the Cap
—–
DB1,
Nothing to do with Commie Viet Nam where I am currently on holiday… BUT
It has frequently occurred to me of late that the sunglasses up on top of (usually trucker) hat may have made the social transmigration from garden variety redneck to douchebag signifier.
I have noticed in the last 12 months in real life and photos on the site that amongst crowds of ‘bags, sunglasses on the cap sometimes figure in to the scene. Is it? Can it? Could it?
Chris in ‘Baghdad
—–
I couldn’t find the perfect pic to go with this question, C in ‘B (or C in Danang), but the point is a good one.
Yes, the migration of redneck signifers to a form of hipsterdouche is a troubling one worth monitoring in the future.
As to Lawyer Pud, pictured here, Mindy may not be the raving beauty that her sister Loraine is (not pictured). But she’s sweet. And will cook you pie. And deserves better than this wily turdrank.
Friday Thoughts and Links
Sneery self portraits.
Still out there.
Still deserving of a flyswatter to the face.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Max?
Google comes up with a new ad strategy: Google Boobs
An eagle-eyed ‘bag tagger captured this late night informercial warning. So true, Late Night Informercial. So true.
Former something or other from the Paris Hilton/Lindsey Lohan mid 00s celebutard era, Perez Hilton, is writing a children’s book. I’m not sure why this is relevant. Lets just move on.
It’s a pity The Phantom is so small. But at least he’s a real man. Unlike Aquaman.
The Miami Douchehearts. WARNING: No Hot Chick and plenty of douche-ass-reveal. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Bored this weekend? There’s always Tron Jeremy. Not exactly a cure for boredom. Kind of like Utah.
A fan of Angry Birds? Turns out they’re real.
But you are not here for creepy real world Angry Birds. You are here for Pear:
Firm muscles of haunch on a Friday eve. You have nothing to complain about. Go forth. Go forth, multiply and imbibe.
Ask DB1: Demographic Mating
——
Hey DB1,
Long time reader, first time, um, submitter. Erg.
Actually, no pic for you. Just a question. I’m sure you’re aware of all the articles about, well, men being huge failures, women now constituting something like 2/3 of college students, women getting better jobs, etc. I say great.
With lots of (many hot) women floating around, and a limited selection of guys, are we demographically doomed to end up with ever more hot chicks forced to not only pose with and tolerate, but even reproduce with douchebags?
-The Waldouche
—-
Not necessarily, Waldouche.
I believe it was Immanuel Kant who first introduced the notion of “subjective discrepancy,” which articulates a discourse of identity outside of an authorial framework.
What this means is that boobies may boobally bounce in disproportionate, or proportionate, ratios, but that cultural variables are independent of such statistical mean averages.
Which means the DB1 has no idea what he’s saying, because the ‘Train is a’flowin’, Red Cup style.
Friday Haiku
Pukey Flower Douche,
David Bowie Pin looks on,
As Hott Jenn gets grabbed.
I’d like to shtup Jenn.
Even if awkwardly so –
Dry hump at the bar
— Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifelt
Izzy Stradlin’ douche
plays guitar no more. Finger
growth from Axl’s pud?
— Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche
Jenn checks his package
Finds a half roll of breath mints
Tommie Lee he ain’t
— Mr. Scrotato Head
Young Ellen Barkin
Hott likes to be slutty. Tongue
Fung is not her bag.
— The Reverend Chad Kroeger
“Want some whipped butter?”
“Um, no, but can I speak to
the manager, please?”
— Mr. White
You are auto-douche,
let me count the ways: dog tags,
sunglasses inside
wristdanna, death tongue,
mandanna, douche hand gesture,
and bowie button.
— the douche is alright
Captain Lubing and Tracey Gnaw
Captain Lubing is obsessed with his own personal White Whale. Which is actually the strange alien disc hiding in his rayon shorts.
The tatt asks: “Why you?” Lubing? Because the world needs ditch diggers, too.
Tracey Gnaw was once a sweet, firm yet softly taught in a quarter bounce way. Now, after sailing with the Captain, she’s acquired arm scurvy.
Need to suck on more Bud Light Limes, there, Tracey.
