Friday Limerick
Your humble narrator is traveling this Friday morning, headed up to New Hampshire for the weekend, so won’t be able to update the Haiku Mainpage.
So instead, here’s a Friday Limerick:
Big Bob was a pro tattoo inker,
With ladies boobs he did love to quite tinker,
But Tammy thought twice,
Before taking Bob’s advice,
And extensively playing with his sphincter.
Ask DB1: Temptation of the Douche Side
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Hey DB1,
I greatly admire all your work in mocking douchebags. But I have to wonder if the constant exposure to toxic scrote ever starts to wear down your soul.
Have you ever had a moment when you thought to yourself, “Screw it! I’d get a lot more pussy if I spiked my hair, got a tribal tat, soaked myself in Axe bodyspray and behaved like a misogynistic prick towards all the ladies. I’m gonna get my douche on, Stackhouse style!”
Wes
—-
An important question, Wes, and one worth keeping in mind as we move forward. We all struggle with what I describe as The ‘Bag Within. This struggle is endless and ongoing.
The temptation to act the ‘Bag to score the Hott is what society dictates so that we spend significant cultural and economic capital on the brand-name cartels that infultrate our constructions of identity.
The struggle is ongoing. But the purging of the mind of the shackles of name-brand overwhelm is what leads to enlightenment. And the conquest of boobies through purity of the soul, and not sins of the pocketbook.
Ricardo's Shirt Unbuttons to "11"
For when you need that extra “Oomph” when hittin’ on the Calgary Canada doe-eyed hotties. Sometimes you just gotta take the unbuttoning to “11.”
Ricardo’s not there yet. But you’ll know it when he is.
Scarlett’s sultry stare, mixture of annoyance and sexiness that it is, causes my gonads to enflame and inspires a desire to compose an orchestral score and build a skyscraper in the hopes she’ll disdainfully ignore me at the subsequent cocktail party fête thrown at Lincoln Center in my honor.
Scarlett should be given an award for a gaze like that. It is the personification of the distinction between the sexes that renders gender roles essentialized.
Ricardo’s Shirt Unbuttons to “11”
For when you need that extra “Oomph” when hittin’ on the Calgary Canada doe-eyed hotties. Sometimes you just gotta take the unbuttoning to “11.”
Ricardo’s not there yet. But you’ll know it when he is.
Scarlett’s sultry stare, mixture of annoyance and sexiness that it is, causes my gonads to enflame and inspires a desire to compose an orchestral score and build a skyscraper in the hopes she’ll disdainfully ignore me at the subsequent cocktail party fête thrown at Lincoln Center in my honor.
Scarlett should be given an award for a gaze like that. It is the personification of the distinction between the sexes that renders gender roles essentialized.
Reader Mail: The King Meets His People
Douche Ellington meets ‘bag royalty:
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DB1,
While this won’t make the site (alas, no pictures of Hotts), I did have a celebridouche sighting this weekend.
Yesterday, at a hot chick and douchebag-packed pool party at the Roosevelt hotel I ran into King Douchous the IV, who happened to know some of the people in my party. Which of course had me questioning my choice of friends. The moment was kind of surreal. Much like that of a celebrity sighting, but with a lot more grease.
I didn’t get a chance for a picture, because my only camera – my phone – was locked firmly up in my backpack to prevent the touch screen from being tainted by the overabundance of grease in the general vicinity.
– Douche Ellington
—–
What is most important, D.E., is that you mocked heartily and with linguistic dexterity from a safe distance, and then hit on the hotts when he went to the john to grease up again.
That is the key to a life well lived.
That, and HoHos.
The Tang
After weeks of pestering her in Bio II, The Tang finally won over Shoshanna Hottowitz by promising that the frat party would be “off the foshneezling.”
Shoshanna didn’t know what “foshneezling” meant. It couldn’t be Yiddish. The Tang barely spoke English as it was.
But Shoshanna was tired of dating Sheldon Epstein. And The Tang had a really bitchin’ Camaro.
Bumps McGee
Kelly and Andrea rethink their decision not to have stayed home and finished that online knitting class.
EDIT: Speaking of bumps, the site’s a bit bumpy today but should be working now.
Where's Waldouche?: Pear Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of tasty and firm Pear, I’ve carefully hidden a thumbsy Waldouche.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Hint for difficulty: He’s not Mr. Clean in the background.
And on a personal note: Ed Hardy on Ass Pear makes the Baby Buddha spittle.
Where’s Waldouche?: Pear Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of tasty and firm Pear, I’ve carefully hidden a thumbsy Waldouche.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Hint for difficulty: He’s not Mr. Clean in the background.
And on a personal note: Ed Hardy on Ass Pear makes the Baby Buddha spittle.
HCwDB of the Month: The Sharkbag and Renee
Barely besting the Spike of Four Prong and the overachieving middle aged Lenny and Paulina, with The Lake Crotch Cactii in solid fourth, The Shark and Renee’s boobies were simply too impressive to overcome.
Witness the run: Goose Crotch BJs, slutty Gina Gershon in ’95 hott,Shark With Boobies and Sharkbag and Renee.
The voters speak:
tall guy: In Sharkpud we have every representation of the axis of evil. The douche hair, the pouty/smartarse look, the Johnny Cash wannabee sartorial selection. Naysayers may say (?) he doesn’t even approach the doucherie of Four Prong and Lenny. I say different. Besides, something tells me Four Prong and especially Lenny would derive too much smug satisfaction from a monthly – itself a rather douchie thing. In summation, Sharkbag for the win!
Scooby Douche: Ima go for Sharkbag and Renee this month. Her fantastic boobs caused me to lick my computer screen for about 20 minutes. I would take mountaineering classes for years just to spend 30 seconds exploring those twin peaks. I could spend years exploring her cave. And Sharkbag, he’s a hard-working douche, what with that stupid hair and arm tat. And what’s that little brown thing in his mouth, a turd?
Mr. Biggs: we have to look to the zen moment of when a douchebag gets the intelligent, curious hott to surrender to his taint. And in this Sharkbag wins hands down. His capacity to sniff out and taint only the choicest of hott meat outdoes all the others. They don’t just pose with him. They bite, they perform mock fellatio, they show off their cleavage, all while he smirks for the camera. So Sharkbag for the win. And as he wins, we all lose.
Anonymous: I’ve never voted before, but Renee makes me do things I wouldn’t normally do. Sharkbag it is.
Hootie McDouche: Gotta be the Sharkbag. It is horrible to think that this choad/wank, this Douche in Extremis, this ugly asshat is floating around the party scene. While I sit here alone with a cat who has projectile diarrhea.
Whoop-di-Douche: Sharkbag and Renee ought to win this monthly, for his hair is as extreme as Prong’s but his Hott is so far above and beyond the usual proffering, I can hear the sizzle and see the smoke wafting off the screen.
Fyodor Dostedouchesky: Sharkie’s Machine for the win. Machine, as in he should be put through a meatgrinder and fed to real sharks, while Renee dons Jacqueline Bisset’s attire from “The Deep”.
Guns-n-Douches: The ink, the bottle-service posing, the f@cktacularly bad hairdoo-doo… (I stand up and applaud) Sharky, you have truly exceeded my expectations. You bring the hotts, the attitude, the image and I am afraid that you may actually reproduce. Well played sir. Sharky for the monthly.
Justin: Renee…still not calling me back? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you..didn’t you get my last 40 texts? You must be busy…I’m sure you have a lot going on, please….Renee…I love you. Sharkbag, keep your grubby mitts away from my girl. You dick.
Amerigo Vesdouchey: His douche aura could power a small town indefinately. His hair could give Roy Scheider nightmares. His hotts give me wood.
Pablo Sinatra: I was gonna say TLCC, but then I scrolled down and there was Sharkbag, the biggest douchebag I’ve ever seen in my life. I can’t believe that every vote on this thread isn’t for him. None of the others even begin to approach this. In my version of reality, though, that’s an exploding cigar in his mouth, and seconds later, that smokin’ hot babe lights it and blows his be-mohawked head apart like a hand grenade.
chaserofthehott: Sharkbag must die, and by die I mean win, and by win I mean lose, Oh hell, Renee I love your breasts!
Indiana Choad and the Temple of Douche: Sharbag FTW. He has an aura of sleazyness that the others can’t match. Lenny comes close, but a fondness for ball-gags and public spanking does not an autoscrote make. The cactii are just garden variety ‘bags, and ‘Prong is just a collector of cell numbers that all mysteriously connect to the Sunshine Home for the Perennially Confused. Or the Free Clinic. Whichever.
ehcuodouche: I’d have to give the nod to the Shark, though, cause I really liked Gina Gershon in Bound. Shark doesn’t just pull in bimbos. That’s an NYU graduate pretending to fellate his Goose!
Hong Kong Douchey: Sharkbag FTW. He’s the most crowbar-able. Blue top on the right is the reason that “safe words” are needed.
Lurksalot: For me this guy has it all, the stupid tats, hilarious hair, props and bottle service, all signals of a bag giving it 100% in persuit of the quality hot. Oh and how it is all working for him, Renee has clearly tagged him as easy prey, to be milked for drink and blow even to the point of going home with the pud. Later he will bring his A-Game in the bedroom, sweating and gasping like some 3 rate porn star until sated, after which Renee will then retire to the bathroom to finish the job. He will wonder why she never returns his calls and why her and her friends giggle whenever they see him in the club. In the mean time he has the confident swagger of a douche at the top of their game, a veritable proto Samurai Scrote.
Sharkbag FTW.
Well said Lurks. Indeed, it may be the run of secondary pics, not just his initial Hannibal stoagie smoking pose, that takes The Sharkbag into a legit Yearly contender. That being said, Sharkbag just barely won, beating out the hard charging and epic, but ultimately prong-short Four Prong:
Dex: Four Prong! Never have I seen such an undeserving force of annoyance sweep westward from the Orient, tainting all in its path like the stench of so much kimchi. He’s lucky Lo-Pan isn’t around to see this. He would have the Three Storms wage magical war on his pitchfork on a hairdo, and steal all his paid-to-pose women. Because nobody out-macks Lo-Pan.
End the Haberdouchery: I’m still stuck on Four Prong’s Jordana Brewster hott, despite her awful tattoo and the fact that someone mentioned she was in porn. I can change her. All I need is two gallons of maple syrup, a stuffed badger, a nine iron, IcyHot, and two months in a log cabin deep in the Yukon from which we would both emerge emaciated and exhausted, but ultimately satisfied.
Peter Ilyich Doucheovsky: This is a particularly tough installment, with Lenny’s over compensating old-baggery being enough to make me smack a manatee, and the Sharkbag’s ridiculous pizza-cutter hairdo. However, my vote must be for Four Prong. Not only because the K Sisters are more delicious than a New York Strip on Independance Day (with A-1 sauce, mashed potatoes and corn), but because while accepting his award and giving me the nod of appreciation, he might just poke my eyes out so as never to see him again. Please?
Bag Margera: Four Prong. Brings. The hotts. Every. Time. Why does he bring the hotts every time? It simply isn’t believable. I can justify the other candidates getting hotts by pointing to alcohol, low standards, and general filthy kinkiness. But four prong is so horrid looking, he transcends all flaws and poor choices in lady logic. There is no explanation and no justification. He is simply Four Prong, Douchebag of the month.
The ladies run cannot be argued with B.M, good points, and good work. Four Prong is pure spectacle, but “Douche Aura” is perhaps lacking. The Sharkbag’s sneer was just so much more punchworthy. And in third, but nearly tied with Four Prong, the aging nutsackery of Lenny and Paulina, who pulled mock from the older HCwDB ‘bag hunters:
Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamscote: Hairless Lenny the freak FTW because he stole my wife’s underwear and shaves like her too.
I R A Darth Aggie: I’m going to go with Lenny FTW. Mostly because I gotta support a douche my age (and admit that I’d ply Paulina with Goose and cranberry, rub cocoa butter into her skin, give her back rubs and read Shakespeare’s love sonnets to her), but also to piss off the Fire Crotch Cacti, Sharkbag, and Prong-bag.
RAPETIME: I need – I must – go with Lenny. He’s my age, maybe at best a couple of years older. He has done things to his body in the pursuit of the eternal charms of young, possibly blood relative snatch that I’d never dream of doing. He knows what he wants and he’s out there living the dream, which so few of us can or will do. Rock on, Lenny and your midlife crisis. You go get some, and may the rest of us be spared the need to join in the utter abdication of your dignity. I raise my glass to you, good sir, and hope you find the plundering of Paulina’s tight assets worth it. I’ll bet it will be.
Troy Tempest: Lenny FTW, and by win I mean loss, and by loss I mean ugly tatts on a roided out granpa and his hideous GSR and leather undies. Ugh. He is a blight on society.
Casey: Lenny FFS. Oldbaggery is one thing, but having “Death B4 Dishonor” tattooed on your abdomen like some East LA cholo is taking it to a completely different level. It was probably the name of his underground hip hop debut on No Limit Records for which he got tatted up for the cover where he GSR’d it on the hood of a rented Bentley. “I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME BIG GRAM-PA!” he raps on track 4.
And in fourth, but with legitimate support for real world douchescrotery and everyday girl cuteness, The Lake Crotch Cactii:
bigphatnottadouche: Prong must have a fistful of 100’s to make the Hotts pose with him. Lenny is a scary old bag who has the wierd leather panties thing going for him. Sharkbag was more douchey but my vote goes to oil stains which are the Lake Catcii for fouling the shores in the western states.
Sir Douche A Lot: Lake Crotch Cactii FTW. The Top Gun shirts are really what makes them win over Prong. Sorry Prong.
melvil duchi: TLCC just because we should not have to see Four Prong and Lenny ever again. Sharkbag’s hots make him a worthy competitor but TLCC’s hots still have a chance to not be ruined. And I think the blonde on the left has a bottle of Boone’s Farm. Stay classy
Boone’s Farm is classy, M.D. but your point is taken. However this was the Shark’s week to sail off Renee’s boobies into the Yearly. Lets let Et Tu, Douche? take us home:
Sharkbag & Renee. He is all that is DB from the smirky smiles, to his overwhelming smugness, the hairdo, the studded belt buckle, index finger rings etc.,etc. He seems like the type who takes hours in front of a mirror to get ready before he goes out on the town. His overwhelming, obvious narcissism is disturbing and that self loathing, little to no self esteem Hott’s like Renee are attracted to that is a major contributor to the HCWDB essence. He brings all the douche signifiers, Renee brings the luscious mounds and thus they are my pick for the win
Indeed. They are lucious mounds. Chalk up the Shark and Renee for the win, and the DB1 for his safe travels to the East Coast. I’m on a strange computer, so apologies if formatting is as weird as Four Prong’s privates. Great work to all in yet another hilarious comments thread, and me for cereal. With sugar.
