Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

HCwDB of the Year: Bracket 1

Here it is, folks.

The best of the ‘baggiest. The scrotiest of the greasiest. The hottest of the hotts.

Since I have the technical skills of an angry Quaker luddite drunk on mead, voting will continue to be in the comments threads. Please vote only once. Weighted vote will be given to regulars, but all votes will count.

You may want to throw up your hands in confusion, say, “DB1, I refuse to choose!” But in the immortal words of P.Diddy, vote-or-douche.

Step up. Make a choice.

Crack open a PBR, and say “this one pic (in each bracket) rises to the top! This combination of choad and boobs is worthy!” Do it. Do it for yourself. Do it for Pumpy.

HCwDB of the Year: Bracket 1 Finalist #1: The Limey

Last month’s winner, The Limey is classic choad.

With tremendously sexy/trashy Miami Hooha on his arm, the noxious swirl of both sides of the HCwDB equation are well fulfilled.

She has that pink lipstick and perfect curves mid 80s Samantha Fox thing working for it.

And I dig it. Oh yes I do.

Arm tatts and Shocker-gloves.

So wrong.

HCwDB of the Year: Bracket 1 Finalist #2: The ‘Bag Islander

October’s winner, The ‘Bag Islander is every bit the spoiled suburbanite fratchoad with boat that makes our collective skin crawl.

The overpowering power of the Bikini Hott has launched wars in the Subcontinent.

She is fantastic.

He is Bud Lite pointing “Braaaaaa!”

Together they make a Monthly winner of deserving genius.

The neck sunglasses are also choice.

Bro. Bra?

Broheim. Bra!!!

Bro.

HCwDB of the Year: Bracket 1 Finalist #3: Joey Porsche

At this point you’re saying “All three are worthy!!” Yes. Yes they are. Please don’t kill yourself.

No one said choosing would be easy.

It’s hard to sum up the Joey Porsche Experience with one pic, as he often brings his friends over for group gropes, as seen here. JP became a sensation back in the June and quickly became one of the first MySpace legends of hottie/douchey totality.

He is more than simply a person.

He is a state of mind. He is Carrera.

He is the Porsche 911 of racing ‘bags.

This is Bracket 1 of 3. Voting is open until end of day on Tuesday. Vote now, and be sure to vote in Brackets 2 and 3 (above).

Stoppeth one of three, Ancient Mariner style, by voting for your pick, as always, in the comments thread.

No More Douchecoat

The Douchecoat writes in:

——
Hello,
I would like to request that you take down a photo that you posted on your website hotchickswithdouchebags.com today entitled Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Douchecoat.

I understand that you yourself did not post these comments, but I would like to kindly ask, on behalf of those involved that you please take the picture down. Thanks for your understanding and quick response-
—–

Dammit, what the hell are you people saying in the comments thread? Don’t you know it’s not polite to make fun of douchebags?

Goooo down Moses…. wayyyy down to Egypt’s land… tell old… pharoah… let my douchebag gooooo….

Well kids, since we lost Douchecoat, here’s a fratchoad doggie ‘baggin’ in classic o-face formation.

HCwDB of the Month: The 'Bag Islander

This was one of the first Monthlys in awhile in which all four contestant combos literally had us stumped. All four were deserving winners. And by winners, I mean poobags.

But then one emerged triumphant. A total devastation. A landslide off the Island of Long.

I feel like a proud papa. When The ‘Bag Island first appeared on the site, he was just another Fratchoad. But then we all took another look. Slowly that smug expression of entitlement began to gnaw away at us. The perfect form of Nymph Hott casually ignored behind him began to set off bells of alarm.

Something was wrong here. Very, very wrong. And so the ‘Bag Islander’s rage factor began to grow and spread like a thin white headband and a “Bra!! Livin’ the Dream!!” finger point. And by the time we reached Monthly, it was a blowout.

There’s first time voter Waiting for Godouche, who writes:

This is truly what HCwDB is all about. It often seems that the douchebags we find, while hilarious/infuriating, are too polished, too self-aware, too in debt to the choads who have come before for their style and attitude.

“No ‘bag is an island,” says John Douche, but this may be as close as we’re ever going to get.

Very well said, Godouche. Or as the ever present anonyous succinctly sums it up:

Bag Island all the way!! That’s the kind of guy I’d love to kick in the face.

Indeed, Mortimer. Indeed. Literary Alchemist offers up another solution to this pic’s inchoate rage: The ‘Bag Island needs to be tried for war crimes.

Bag Island FTW.

That sack lick is in such violation of the Geneva Convention that Simon Wiesenthal should rise from the grave and try this pud lick in Nurembourg.

Maybe the Hague can get in on this action.

But lets not forget the others. Coming in a solid second place with fervert supporters, was the noxious combo of Velvet Jones and The Strawberry Cheesecake, which schwagle makes the case for:

Velvet takes the crown. He is the epitome of choad: it’s obvious he realizes he’s a douche, and yet doesn’t fight it, but rather embraces it. It’s like his entire persona just screams “I’m ‘bag and I’m proud”, no words that should ever be uttered by anyone’s mouth, even in jest. He is like Lando Calrissian, but with every meter of cool cranked up to “douche” instead.

Alas, Velvet’s run towards the finals came up a ‘stache short. The Olive Loaf also found support, but simply not enough. As waramp puts it:

I gotta give my vote to olive loaf. The sheer grease of that photo is enough to fry my eggs without them sticking to the pan. And that side-boob just puts olive loaf over the edge.

Sadly, Stewie Head came in a distant fourth. So he’s taking his head and going home.

It’s the Island of Choad that takes this month’s hottie/douchey prize. As the last comment in the voting thread, here’s Ace:

If this were any other month, it would be velvet jones for sure. But, bag island transcends their sheer lameness and personifies the mission of hot chicks with douchebags.

Give it up to the Everyday boating Islander of ‘Bag and the perfect black bikini hottie behind him. They are deserving of a well earned Monthly victory.

We’ll see these tools at the Doucheys in December. Right, bra?

HCwDB of the Month

There are some hottie/douchey pics that transcend the need to compete for votes on an internet website. I speak, of course, of The Gator.

The Gator’s foul oil drenched uberdouche, and his increasingly varied selection of hottie, jumped him past the Weekly, past the Monthly, and straight into the rarified air of our beloved “Hall of Scrote.”

But these four couplings don’t have it so easy. They have to compete for your collective societal approval. And by approval, I mean rejection.

Four Weekly winners. But only one Monthly victor will emerge. So lest I keep ramblin’ about my ramblin’ amblin’ weekend, here’s your Finalists:

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: The Olive Loaf and Banana Hott

Cheesy club dude?

Or loaf of half baked bread?

The douche is high with this one, and I’m not just saying that because he has carefully orchestrated thickets of hair in perfect crop formation. I’m saying that because his face is a pimento olive in the martini glass of ass.

Banana Blonde is a half peeled popsicle stick of appeal.

Succulent thighs and one of the best dresses of all time.

But can she carry the loaf to a win in the Monthly? Is his douchitude enough?

It’s certainly possible. He’s uhm,… how you say,… uberscrote. A worthy finalist indeed. I now want to punch a kitten.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: ‘Bag Island

There are the spectacle ‘bags, and then there are the everyday fratchoads.

The type who say Bra and Dude in every other sentence.

The type who live off the trust funds, can’t form a coherent sentence under threat of death, and still pull perfectly formed swim team state school hotties with bone necklaces and ripe apple boobies.

What makes the ‘Bag Islander so annoying isn’t just the hair device, the Miller Lite/point or the neck sunglasses.

It’s the look to his off-screen buddy.

The Duuuuude, we’re so living the dream!! with finger point.

No. No you’re not living the dream, Miller Lite pud.

Well okay, maybe in your universe, you are livin’ the proverbial dream. But that still doesn’t mean I can’t call you douche.

And I see you too, Bikini Red on the right taking the picture. Hi there.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: Thornton Mellon Stewie Head

Some of you felt TMSH wasn’t a worthy Weekly winner, but I disagree.

It’s not just the football mellon head. It’s the pink flushed cheecks. The receding fauxhawk. The teeny, tiny patch of chin pube.

And a cornfed hottie who makes me want to drive the back roads of Iowa and pretend to be a Country Western singer named “Biff.”

Then you have the giant A/X shirt.

And a sombrero.

I’m telling you. Add in a dancing monkey and this pic would be hanging in the experimental wing at the Museum of Modern Art.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: Velvet Jones

For those arguing we need to get some more brothers up on our wall, Velvet Jones represents nicely.

He is classic Eddie Murphy SNL parody douchebaggery.

A nice slice of brothabag that demonstrates once again that douchebaggery is performativity. It is found in every nook, cranny and sphincter of this wide and disparate country.

And she is fantastic strawberry cheesecake happy pants goodness.

She’s probably named Amanda. Or Kelly. She watches American Idol and dreams of writing children’s books.

But now Velvet’s showin’ her some luve.

And the rest of us can only recoil in the hottie/douchey wrongness. And the velvet shirt. Seriously. Velvet, Velvet Jones? And does your mustache talk?

So them’s your four. Four enter. Only one can win.

I don’t envy you this task, people. Each of these pics brings powerful and unique attributes to the hott/choad duality that tasks us all.

Is it Velvet and Strawberry? Or perhaps it’s the classic fratchoad on the boat in the ‘Bag Island Experience? Or the lusty perfection of Banana Hott and the Olive Loaf? Or does the cartoonish ridiculousness of Thornton Mellon Stewie Head take the Monthly prize?

It’s a food fight Monthly.

Which cohabitation of hump worthy hott and rotting zombie corpse douche make you want to cry “Uncle!” and smash your head into a metallic underpass? That, fellow ‘bag hunters, is up to you. Four servings of douche-meat and hott. But only one can triumph.

Which will it be?

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

'Bag / Not a 'Bag

Is there still hope for the emergent douchosity of Blondy McFratchoad?

Is he simply partying like the proverbial rock star?

Or has he taken the deeper step towards deep dark douchitude, with no hope for cultural recourse?

And most importantly, would Pink Slip with the Egyptian Trim mind if I chewed on her used summer flip flops while licking every heart-dotted “i” found in her diary?

These are the questions that plague me.

And why my feet smell like Brie.

Brokeback Bucky

Speaking of cowboys, Bucky ‘Bag attempts to merge standard Cowbag with race car jacket and Fratchoad beer selection.

That’s just too many mixed metaphors for one look, Bucky.

Blonde Bustier Perfection can style my hair any day of the week. Choke collar jewelry on young Meg Ryan is an absolutely tasty drink of vitamin water.

HCwDB of the Week: 'Bag Island

While the early groundswell of support for the Assferno gave way to discounting for being too “professional,” and the spectacular uberdouchosity of The Warthog also began to wane, the slow and steady nausea of The Miller Lite Fratchoad and his perfect blonde hottie won the race and takes the Weekly with ease.

As Darin sums it up in the comments thread, there’s just something about Fratty McChoad and his blondie that was too horrifying to ignore:

The other two candidates are impressive in their own ways, but for sheer, raw, douchiness, the ‘Bag Islander picture is the equivalent of a chile that seems mild and fruity on first bite, but grows and swells with heat, until your mouth, your digestive tract, and eventually your entire body is wracked and overwhelmed with burning, nausea, and sweat.

Well said, Darin. Sometimes we underestimate the power of the Miller Lite Fratchoad to personify all that is douche. As doucheland, doucheland, über alles puts it:

The guy in the ‘Bag Islanders is classic douche. He’s harkening back on the days back in the 80s/early 90s when he thought he was hot s@#t. Headband, the dyed hair, and the douchegrin and gesture which suggest he’s saying “You da man!” Miller Lite is also a nice touch.

Heh. Nice dig at the Motherland with the name, DDUA.

But The Warthog and Dante’s Assferno found their fans. Danny Noonan tees up a golf shot for The Warthog:

The ‘bag Islander inspires hate in me unseen since Sam moved in with the Drummonds on Diff’rent Strokes. Yet not quite the hate I feel for the Warthog. The Warthog’s proximity to one of the all time HCs (Hollish McRacky) and his complete scrote tint and face put him in a rare category. It’s gotta be the Warthog.

Interestingly, the Assferno received a number of votes from our female ‘bag hunters. dita von douche casts in with the pros:

I have to vote Dante’s Assferno. The amount of ass in the picture, the level of douchosity, the making out chicks with the tramp stamp, the tats…. Assferno by a landslide.

And mistress julie agrees:

Dante’s Assferno because it’s just like watching bad porn: hot chicks and revolting douches in the same screen shot. Yuck. I don’t need to see faces, just close ups here please. And by close ups, I mean asses.

The ladies love the merits of the female posterior, and who am I to argue with that logic?

But stanley ipkiss makes the case for the ‘Bag Islanders to take the crown:

Close call. But i’d go with the ‘Bag Islanders.

Oh, and the mammaries of the hottie behind makes me curse at my nothingness in the society.

I feel your pain, S.I. And I’m pleased to see the undefinable affect within the nausea inducing hottie/douche cohabitation of the ‘Bag Island carry it to a victory.

Sure it’s not as obvious as other pics. But it’s there. Oh yes. That rank foul odor of hott and choad, mixing amidst daddy’s boat and a warm can of Miller Lite.

Chalk up a victory for the White Man’s Overbite, and punch the ‘Bag Island a ticket to the Monthly.

HCwDB of the Week

To celebrate the joy that is the Dunkin’ Donut, I’m dedicating this week’s Weekly to the creamy honey glazed goodness of the greatest East Coast donut chain this side of Winchells.

Sure, the Krispy Kreme fans have their upscale high rent classy ‘nuts. But the true hero of the working man is the Dunkin’. With crackified coffee and surly high school counter employee, nothing quite says “New England Repressed WASP Dysfunction” quite like the Dunkin’ Donut experience.

And no, this isn’t a sponsored ad. I just loves me the D.D. Living in L.A. has its shortcomings sometimes.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: The ‘Bag Islanders

Don’t understimate the sneaking gut-punch pain of this perfect curvy schooner and Miller Lite Fratchoad.

At first it seems a relatively benign hottie/douchey coupling.

She’s adorable. He’s annoying. But there’s nothing too nauseating about the combo.

At first.

But then you notice it. Like a chocolate frosted donut, its afterburps lingering in your esophagus. Long after your initial consumption.

As we’ve learned in the past six months, the sailboat is the new Long Island. The place where pudgy doughboys score hotties simply by their proximity to water and an expensive boat.

What puts the ‘Bag Island into the finals is the look on Grimace’s face. His winking nod to his buddy. Ignoring the hott in favor of the “We rock!” gesture.

And the two Island choads in the back engaging in intensive debate about the merits of “The Hills” versus “The Real World” don’t hurt neither.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Dante’s Assferno

There’s an utter genius to this satanic otherworldly swirl of unholy monstrosity.

It is arousing, sickening, and makes me hungry for a pop tart.

But there’s also the vaguely “porny” drawback.

As with any great HCwDB combo, what we look for is the amateur. The clueless choad unawares of the hott he doesn’t deserve. The authentic that renders the curvy/hairy combo so intoxicatingly infuriating you want to splice your eyes with an egg cutter.

But this boat pic appears “pro.” Can the zombified soulless trolls truly compete on the hottie/douchey rage factor?

To answer this question, I can only say ass.

Ass.

Lovely, lovely ass.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Warthog

There’s something ethereally and otherworldly captivating about this pic. Maybe it’s The Warthog’s bizarre shade of orange.

Maybe it’s the sweet Dutch Girl Hotties, one of whom has her finger in the dyke.

And yes, I just made the worst joke ever.

But putting aside the lameness of that absolutely embarrassing and shameful pun, there’s something incoherent and wrong about this pic that I couldn’t stop staring at.

The middle cutie is Reese Witherspoon club tramp sexy. And the Warthog’s “Kill” t-shirt and douche-face are enough to up anyone’s blood pressure before their morning coffee.

Is it enough to take out the Assferno? Or the ‘Bag Islanders?

That, my friends, is up to you.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

The Panda

This isn’t even doggie stylin’. More like Panda Pawin’.

G.I. Choad is rockin’ the military haircut like he’s storming the beach at Harrah’s Hotel and Casino. He’s paradouching in to the Strip to take out some hotties, Green Beret style. And by Green Beret style, I mean Panda ‘Baggin.

No real bling to up the obnoxious factor. But the sunglasses and cell phone stylin’, as well as that pucker lipped douche-face, qualify for State Trooper Fratchoad.

And of course, the Tri-Budlite bendable hottie with Kung Fu Grip. She’s all sorts of slutty tablecloth raunch.

The kind you never, ever, under any circumstances, introduce to your mom. Instead you rent her an apartment on the upper east side and keep the whole thing quiet.

But even paying that $2200 a month rent is worth it. Every penny. No doubt about it.

College

Ah yes, College.

A time to expand one’s mind in the pursuit of knowledge.

A time to grow and find one’s self as a person.

A time when ridiculous suburban fratchoads score quality tail the heights of which they will never again come remotely close to scaling.

The imbalance between semi-annoying economics major sophomore frattoads and the 20 year old uber-hott is strong in this one.

I would make a blond/brunette PB&J sandwich, and enjoy with a chocolate YooHoo.