Benny Runs with the Dasani
Because even those doing the twelve steps need to shake it out once in awhile.
Reader Mail: Tony Turns in his Brother for a Douche Violation
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DB1,
I’m a huge fan. Loyal from Day 1.
So here’s a pic of my younger brother and his girlfriend. He thinks he’s so cool with his shiny suit. Just plain old douche to me. This pic is loaded. Does it make the cut.
Oh, and I don’t need the world knowing it was me who submitted it. I’m not Fredo.
-Tony
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And then, after my appeal to take credit for the hard work of a familial douche intervention:
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Ok. Run it. I’ll alert the local HCwDB fanbase.
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Run it I shall. For your bro needs to have his silk jacket and pointy pose mocked for all eternity. And Bouncy Sandrina needs to show more cleve.
Jenny and Kelly Make the “Double Woo”
Brohawks, shoulder tatts and Ubiquitous Red Cup on display as Jenny and Kelly “woo.”
Bud Lights in the sand.
Nerdy Juan talks physics in the background.
Yup. Spring Break. 2011.
Where an entirely new generation thinks they’re the first to discover sex and alcoholism.
They’re not. I was. The year was 1994.
Kevin the Loverrr
It’s important to Kevin that you pronounces his name correctly. He is not “Kevin the Lover.” He is “Kevin the Loverrrr.” You must roll the “r.” Like you’re choking on a peach pit.
The Crazy Eyes Carla Cousins suffer from both A.D.H.D. and panic attacks. So do not be concerned when they roll up your bar tab north of 200 dollars while talking about how daddy never told them he loved them and they someday dream to host a show “like Oprah.”
It’s worth it.
For the night will end with you holding back their hair while they puke in the bathroom of the nearby “Gas n’ Go.”
But for the chance to get a pokey peek at Carla #2’s heaving red bosom as that Mai Tai returns to the ocean from whence it came, it’s heartily and spiritually worth it.
Rocker Hand Guy’s Hitler Chin Approves
The Russian Vadanya Girls are o.k. by him.
The Knicklehead
Reminding us that, in spite of being one of the great cities of urban living, New York also has the douchiest sports fans this side of Miami Beach, The Knicklebag wants to drop by.
And be a douche.
In presence of soothing smoothie blended drink of hott lickery, the lovely Lindsey.
And all is wrong on a Monday morn.
And lest you think the Knicklehead was just goofing it up in a one-off pic, this unholy basketballwipe took his show on the road. With Lindsey on vacation in the tropics.
The great Bernard King just had himself retroactively baptized as a Celtic.
HCwDB of the Week: Mister Zebracrotch and Granddaughter Karnie
Last week was a maelstrom of douchelickery, perfect mammtasteries, creepy Miami beachery, pitch perfect dress-up douchebaggery, and even some classic Jerz.
We had visits from former Weekly Winning trainwrecks The Greasepitz and Night Oranger, and even mocked us a Sports Junkie from the metro-D.C. area.
But, in the end, Zebra crotch display on orange oldsaggery and lithe chewtoy barely legal hottie hott takes the win (loss). For while Oldbaggery often finds its champions, and while I came thisclose to giving it to Wimpy the Cinch Sack and Genevieve, I just couldn’t ignore this toxic example of crudboatwankery and perky hott combo.
For, the thing is, Zebracrotch cannot be excused as dress up or ironobaggery. Zebracrotch is genuinely orange, saggy, stupid puka shelled, and posing like a ninny.
Together with Tasty Karnie, who’s majoring in dead languages and likes old movies with Bogie and Bacall, hers is a giggle wasted on old trash pudwackery.
And that, fellow hunters and huntresses, is what we are here to mock, even as it congeals into hardened arteries and saggy creepy awkwardness at the school P.T.A. meetings.
And by congeals, I mean bacterially spreads like a pre-John Maddened foot fung.
Chalk up Mister Zebracrotch and Karnie for our third slot in the next Monthly, and the DB1 for coffee and a tasty Hostess pie.
The Greatest Action Sequence of All Time
I’ve posted it before, and I’ll post it again.
Hollywood has been owned by Bollywood in the greatest five minute sequence of all cinematic time. Mulletbaggery is forgiven, for our intrepid hero rules.
Ze Hipsterbăghen
Proving that Hipsterbaggery is the most potent form of douche in 2011, note how it continues to spread across much of Nordic Europe like a Lohan herp sore.
Sven Twitters expressionist poetry free verse. Frau Gretel will spank you for having impure bloodlines.
And in a followup HCwDB story, Thursdays’ Marty the Douchey Picture Frame Guy provoked a lively discussion of all things HCwDB on Washington D.C.’s Sports Junkies. (starts about 6 minutes in)
And, a little bit later, when the hott calls in and realizes she’s dating a radiobag. (2 min in)
Friday Thoughts and Links
I only wish the Night Oranger were an April Fools joke.
Sadly, that dragon tatt is all sorts of fake-tanned reality.
Crazy Eyes Kendra may be an extra from “Prince of Persia 3: The Epstein Bar Mitzvah,” but her curves are firm and taut.
And so they take us softly into Friday Thoughts and Links.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Call me Mr. Lamb Fries!”
Here’s a hilariously stupid Russian Wedding Video, unfortunately with unfunny sound effects added. I both celebrate and blame the black dude from “Police Academy” for unleashing decades of comedic fart and helicopter noise imitators.
Waiting for Godot: The Videogame
Rutgers University pays Snooki more money to speak than it paid Toni Morrison. Your humble narrator hangs his head in shame.
National Hockey League something or other Brandon Prust is getting it on with numerous hotts while cheating on his girlfriend Michelle Trachtenburg. Cheating on a quality Semitic librarian hott like Trachtenburg is a huge wtf no-no, but the dude’s young, a successful athlete, makes millions, and scores quality suckle thigh. So there’s that.
All you need to know about life: Fagabeefe.
Some Thief stole a computer and then got busted by the owners of the computer, who found the pud rocking out, douche style.
But you are not here for theifs dancing douche style. You are hear for fruity chomp pear. Here ya go:
Mmmm. Like warm summer brownies on a cool misty evening. And chompy suckle bite.
The weekend is nigh.
