White Chocolate 4Evar
Hall of Scrote Legend White Chocolate, one of the first doucherstars to be mocked back in the early days of HCwDB, refuses to douche gently into that douchey night.
Like all scrotal legends, there is no “temporary” to the douche lifestyle. No return to real life after a year of partying gets old.
Not for the HCwDB legends.
The Choc will not let up. The Choc will not let the hairpoint fade.
His cleft chin, aging pink saggyflesh and supernova of douchitude will. Not. Stop.
Until every hottie in Vegas smiles wanly and poses for a picture with him.
Quartasian Maggie Seeks Legal Representation
Yesterday’s celebrated and curvacious Quartasian Hottie, Maggie, writes in with a takedown request:
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request to remove unauthorized photo
I absolutely do not approve of you using this photograph. I demand you take it down immediately or I will seek legal representation! I DO NOT give you my permission to use my picture. Take it down Immediately.
This is the photo from this morning that I demand be removed:
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Skinny D and Maggie the Quartasian Hottie
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Words spelled correctly. Impressive. Most impressive. But you are not a hottie yet.
While it saddens me to say goodbye to such quartasian hottness, we must bid adieu to mammtastic mammories. But we’ll always have our… mammories.
Reader Mail: Heather Dumps Mr. Lazy
Reader Heather writes in from Singapore:
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Subject: ya gotta go…
this complete fing douchbag wore this god damn shirt atleast 2x week while we were dating….it was either kill myself or break up…..I DECIDED TO MOVE TO SINGAPORE!
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Well, that’s one solution. The other would’ve been to write the word “eye” with a black magic marker under “Mr. Lazy” on his shirt.
Still, he’s only barely a stage-1 doucher, Heather, and if repeated shirt wearing was a ‘bag signifier, my repeated socks wearing would definitely get me in trouble.
Caption This Pic
Unfortunately for the “Vegus Douchbagus,” nursing in captivity can prove especially difficult due to scientific variables like climate, age and inability to find the nipple during “Woo” season.
Punk is Dead, Crucified, Regurgitated and Mass Marketed Fish Feed
It’s over, Johnny.
Over.
Granpa Chin
For the ladies with daddy complexes.
Grandaddy complexes.
Oh Statuesque Cheryl.How you would break me into a wimpering sobbing hallucinogenic puddle with the touch of one soft, pillowed boobosity. I would read you old Dickens novels by flashlight in a double sleeping bag, and then quietly hump your purse while you sext with the bartender at Tao.
And I see you too, perfect Brunette Jacqueline. Your suckle thigh milkshake body taut is a feast for the eyes and your mamms slay polar bears.
Thank you for being you. Just please don’t speak. It adds nothing.
No. really. Don’t speak. Don’t. Speak.
Dammit.
No, I do not know where Tony went with the Bud Light Lime you were drinking.
Skinny D and Maggie the Quartasian Hottie
Pic Deleted
Skinny D? Brooklyn b-boy hipsterpud. Give him a stage-2 violation ticket and send him on his way to his night shift at Denny’s.
Now Maggie the Quartasian Hottie on the left deserves a pause.
Together, let us say, amen.
For therein lies a tasty curvy suckle thigh of powdered donut fluffy snappy snack shack turbo dog corn nuts, both regular and B.Q.
We haven’t featured a quality Quartasian Hottie in quite awhile, and as long time readers know, the quarter asian female is the heighth of all non-Semitic sucklethigh.
Betty in the middle? Yes. She is there. Lets move on. And by on, I mean back to Maggie. With only six bags of sunflower seeds and a sundial to guide us under cover of leaf.
Ziggy the Sneery Mug Guy
It’s like, ironical, yo. Like on that show.
Make it in every pic and the ladies’ll giggle and dig the sunglasses and maybe Ziggy’ll finally get some of that mythical ass he’s read so much about. In books. And magazines.
Oh Linda. Your eyes betray your innocence and fear. Like a youngly born fawn stepping uponst the dewdropped dappled summer hillsenvolgen. I would lick your kneecaps.
Michelle’s Earwax Problem
Michelle’s rationale: Cheaper than a Qtip, and it buys you free drinks.
Not sure I’m buying it, Michelle.
Where’s Waldouche? Vegas “Yo” Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of sorority butt chomp slappy grab boingy glute, I’ve carefully hidden a double serving bronzed alpaca turd waldouche.
Look closely.
Can you find them?
