HCwDB of the Month
The HCwDB of the Month. The moment we select our next finalist for HCwDB of the Year to join the inglourious doucheterd, Stackhouse. Which coupling is most foul and heinously devoid of merit to warrant Monthly victory(loss)?
Here’s your finalists:
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: Captain Rehab and Luana
Luane gets around, and around and around.
Ubiquitous Luane even swam away with Corporal Faux after her win.
So our first coupling offers us a pic of ubertaintosity detracted by what we can only generously describe as a “skank hott.”
As you all know, true hottie/douchey HCwDB Enlightenment occurs only when the sweetest of gnawable suckle thigh is tainted by the greasiest of colonic clownitude.
This pic may not have the purest of dialectics to meditate and ruminate.
But it does have Cleavite Boobies. And librarian glasses.
And the nastiest water this side of a Turkish bath.
And really, the giant Close Encounters Hair Peak in water really needs to be appreciated for the choice of spectacle-hair in a location in which swimming implies the hair will get wet and therefore lose any shape intended for it.
This deserves to be fully appreciates for its choadwankitude.
Anyone can grease up hair at the clubs. Only the true anusdouche can do so in a public swimming environment.
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: Grillzilla
Some posit that potential Rockstar Leniency Rule might be invoked, given this turd’s role in some band I’ve never heard of. Lets shut this down right now.
No RLR granted. Period. End of story.
This is douchosity outside of performativity, and deserves full mockage.
Unlike Luane, Lady Gwnedolyn brings sweet, innocent sweetness innocence to the equation.
As such, we read her poems by Wordsworth to her as we lie under willow trees, and then we hump her purse like a cracked up beagle in heat when she’s buying an ice-cream from the local street vendor, Juan.
And Juan rolls his ice-cream stand away as quickly as possible.
Because he’s disturbed by our purse humping.
And can you blame him?
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: David Crapperfield and Rachel Hottenstein
2010 has seen a distinct theatrical quality brought to ubersquat strategy to fondle the neck nuzzle hotts like Rachel here.
Yet, as with Grillzilla, no RLR is granted.
This is theatrical magical douchebaggery.
But it is every bit as mockworthy as the Orange uber-guidos of yesteryear.
And Rachel is delightful real world suckle thigh.
She is therefore to be appreciated with applause and knee fondle.
I have nothing else to add to this pic.
But I still can’t align images properly.
So I have to keep writing text to create enough of a block to insert the next pic.
Letting me HTML my blog is like letting a chimp fly the space shuttle.
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: The Quizzical Hemorrhoid and Princess Lickmah
The Quiz Roid made a strong uberdouchey impression in early 2010. Witness the run:
Makin’ the Douche Face. Popping a squat. Party Pile.
The run of stone-face consistency rivals some of our classic Hall of Scrote members like Peaches and E-Blo.
But the run, like DiMaggio’s 57 game hit streak, eventually had to come to an end, and it did when Quiz Roid broke out the grin with the Baja Boyz.
Quiz Roid, like David Crapperfield, is performative taintlickery.
The Princess, like the Lady, is Neverending Story hott all growns up.
Some argue performativity detracts from the douchey spectacle.
I say, “Ha!” Because I like to make short, brief, unexplained grunt statements.
But is it enough to win the monthly?
Vote, as always, in our brand spankin’ new comments threads.
Greeced Blightning
Crito, we owe a cock to Asclepius. Do pay it. Don’t forget.
Reader Mail: Tagging a Scrotomobile
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To Mr. Douchebag1:
I know this picture contains nary a hotte or a even the visual presence of a douchebag’s posing to Satan’s delight, however the picture is most worthy of your site. By Christ on his throne, a Hummer with a custom paint job on elevated wheels and a vanity plate that says 4UHAYTR . . . it is utmost douchbaggery!
When I saw this abomination on the road I knew I had to take the risk of getting caught by the police and break California’s prohibition against touching a mobile phone while on the road and take a picture of this afront to God and all that is good and holy with my mobile phone’s camera. At this same intersection my own brother previously paid several hundred dollars for doing what I had done to get this picture.
As in all wars previous, the war against the douchebaggery needs sacrifice to ensure victory. I figuratively jumped on a grenade to get this picture, and luckily for me the grenade was a dud.
Stay well,
LT. Haytr4Life
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Anyone who thinks our war on choadpocalyptic visions like this one is over, think again. We must keep mocking. If not for the children, then for the suckle thigh.
Friday Thoughts and Links
A bouncy week for your humble narrator, as his time meditating on the boobie hottie suckle thigh (quality brunette edition, pictured here) and mocking the choadscrote (multihairwanks, pictured here) was distracted by all sorts of things like “CSS code” and “hosting site.” The internets are a silly place. But they allow us cultural mock as a form of societal shock treatment. So for that, we be grates.
Here’s your links:
In a bizarre form of cross-culture pollination of poo, Ed Hardy style is now influencing cowboy hats. Up next: Limited edition Ed Hardy Hitler Youth Swastikas.
Little children reenact The Jersey Shore. Hmm… maybe we should do a ‘bagling episode next season on Is She Really Going Out With Him?
2008 Douchiest Athlete of the Year winner, kicker Jeff Reed, douches it up with former President Bush. Later, they Jagerbombed Iraq.
Hall & Oates on SCTV in “Chariots of Eggs.” Bizarre early 80s comedy genius.
Random sites continue to rip me off in strange ways. “This entry was filed under ‘baseball'”?
Mattel adds to it’s Barbie line with its latest, Douche Ken. Or perhaps Liberace Gay Ken? Or is that redundant.
The Stackhousian poetry of “Get Some” continues to spread like a viral douche plague mating call.
Hall of Hott legend Veronica, whom the DB1 can personally certify as quality suckle thigh, gets posterized.
Korean Man Marries Pillow. In a related story, I groped a cushion.
Okay.
You’ve been very patient with the site transition. For all of your hard work, here ya go. Spend it wisely:
Go forth, kids. Go forth and mock in the grandest of the Oscar Wilde, Lenny Bruce and George Carlin traditions.
Billy Twatwaffle Says: "Oi Mate! The Site's Still in Progress."
Another week or so before 2.0 launches. In the meantime, apologies again for all the font nuttiness and comments threads problems. The new comments threads will be much easier to navigate.
So while you’re hangin’, have a Stella from Billy Twatwaffle. Who’s from Australia. And wants to show you his Spidey underroos, even in the sitting position.
And feel bad for Lizzie Girl. Who’s sweet. But can get freaky when the moment is right.
And, because I care, even though it’s not quite time for Friday Ass Pear yet, have some Shadow Pear.
Billy Twatwaffle Says: “Oi Mate! The Site’s Still in Progress.”
Another week or so before 2.0 launches. In the meantime, apologies again for all the font nuttiness and comments threads problems. The new comments threads will be much easier to navigate.
So while you’re hangin’, have a Stella from Billy Twatwaffle. Who’s from Australia. And wants to show you his Spidey underroos, even in the sitting position.
And feel bad for Lizzie Girl. Who’s sweet. But can get freaky when the moment is right.
And, because I care, even though it’s not quite time for Friday Ass Pear yet, have some Shadow Pear.
The Purple Nurples Are Now Fondling Themselves
Mayday!! Mayday!! Someone, anyone in the military who reads HCwDB…
Please. For the love of God, the infant Jebus, and all that is holy to Buddha, Allah, Xenu and Ganesh.
Please. Call in a compressed air strike. Using a mixture of choloroform and laughing gas. It’s the only way to giggle them to death.
Friday Haiku
Clowns of Long Beach mug
“Less Than Zero” Jamie Gertz,
R.I.P. culture.
short-bus, cross-eyed hott
can you not see/smell the slime?
dirty jerz surrounds
— baglanta
Tanning goo abounds
These four choads smell like bacon
Still…her rack is nice
– Wedgie
Stripey hott gropes bag
Finds nothing in his crotch, so
grabs bottle instead.
— Mr. White
Cross-eyed Jenny’s boobs
Travelling band of meatheads
“Down the shore” carnys
— yahoo scrotius
Monkey dry humping
His ‘bro does not see the hand
that will save us all
— Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche
At the funderal
For their bro, they laughed, cried, drank
Then gang banged his ex
— Mr. Scrotato Head
Barbie likes seafood
So her bro threw another
Shrimp on the Barbie
— saulgoode42
Word Press I.T. team
Big Rage in Cabo spending
Db1’s payment
— Vin Douchal
No More Holy Zebra Triangle
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Just wondering if I could please have a picture removed that has me in it.
Im wearing a animal print thong and as funny as this site is, its only funny until your poon ends up on the site. I realize it was taken off of facebook and sent in by a pissed of ex of mine and its not your fault but I will take legal action if its not removed ASAP..
Thanks
Natasha
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Coincidentally enough, “It’s Only Funny Until Your Poon Ends Up on the Site” is also the working title for my autobiography.
EDIT: Natasha responds:
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Spank-you so much 🙂
If I would haveee known what I said would have ended up on the siteee I would have at least made it clear my ex is a loser dat likes to get pee’d on. lol
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Captain Emo
Proving that 2010 continues to be “The Year of the Hipsterbag,” Captain Emo brings San Franciscan David Eggers reading Valencia Street huevos rancheros irony eating taint and day-glo forarm bands (a key givaway of hipster-to-Jerz connection) to his hott fondling of Poor Maggie May.
Tings ain’t de same since ye came ‘ver frum Ireland, ayre they, Maggie May?
Okay, fine. Maggie May’s from Yonkers. And her grandparents emigrated from Slovakia. But I just wanted to see if I could do an Irish accent in type. And I couldn’t. So I drink.
