Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Donkey Douche Turns Burnt Umber

HCwDB legend and 2009 Irving Thallbag Lifetime Achievement Winner Donkey Douche may grow older.

Donkey Douche may turn even stranger colors of rouge. And DD’s ass chin may become even more pronounced.

But in pursuit of the party hotts, the dog-tags and chest-shave will remain eternal.

Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet hates John Mayer Too

Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet wanted to drop by and share something.

What did you want to share with us, Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet?

Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet: Look into my creepy eyes… my neatly trimmed facial hair and eye shadow gnaw your soul… nom nom nom…

That’s it? That’s all you wanted to share, Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet?

Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet: No. I also think John Mayer is a douche.

Okay, thanks for dropping by, Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet. And good luck with Princess Jasmine!

Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet: Hey thanks.

Breaking: John Mayer is still a Douchebag

For those wondering, the latest issue of Rolling Stone confirms that soulless guitar twat John Mayer is still the personification of the word douchebag.

Is the word “douchebag” overused, like so many claim these days? Played out? Not so long as this self-obsessed narcissist, with his Stackhousian quotes, is on the cover of the Rolling Stone.

From the Mayerbag’s carefully constructed “I don’t care about my image” image, to his claims to be a “geek” because he watches porn and plays PS2, to his “wounded soul” shtick to get laid, this preening fraud hack echoes the guitar greats in sound, but not talent. His is a soulless echo of the mass media age. Mylie Cyrus has more musical integrity.

When you carefully blur the line between irony and sincerity in service of the self like some postmodern pastiche of “rock star,” you display the ultimate Jersey Shore of the soul.

You lick donkey nutsack, Mayerbag. You’re not as smart as you think you are, you’re not as clever as you think you are, and you’re not as talented as you think you are.

Now get off my magazine covers and go back to stalking stripper poon in Vegas while your fame runs dry.

Gonzi, the Terrorist Ed Hardy Douche Muppet

Because if looking like a terrorist Ed Hardy douche muppet wearing McBain Goggles That Do Nothing gets you in with Mandy, then by god, that’s Gonzi’s plan.

The Guccbag Responds To H8ters

Tuesday’s Guccbag responds in the comments threads:

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WOW, are you guys serious? a friend sent me the link to this, people actually take time out of Their day to comment on pics of other people they don’t even know/ have never met? Your lives are that lame it’s come down to this lol? I created an account just to post this ONE comment because most people are busy MAKING MONEY/ WORKING HARD TO BETTER THEIR LIFESTYLE.. not trying to degrade people to make them feel a little better about their LAME/ SAD lives. Get a life you HATERS!!!, you think this couple is so bad, maybe you need to take a second look here..

*THANK YOU HATERS FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT*
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Remember kids, people “work hard to better their lifestyle.” Not life. Lifestyle.

But on the flip, he did spell “hater” correctly.

Pablo Bagbozo Confirms Douchitude

Our newly minted HCwDB of the Week winner, Pablo Bagbozo, wanted to drop by and offer additional evidence that your judgment of him as a heaping art-school Milli Vanilli douchescrote in presence of the ladies was well deserved.

And I see you too, Russian Vitaly. And I see Janette, the orange, but curvy as hell ‘baguette, too.

I would orange her oranges.

Which is a euphemism for touching the boobies.

Old Men and Kangol Hats

Old Men and Kangols go together like oil and water. Israel and Palestine. Culture and Texas.

Oh, naughty Mona. Your eyes say yes. Your hand says yes. Your lips say yes.

Yet your pink bikini-bra asks me to run up from behind, pull it back, snap it, then run off giggling. Just like I did in third grade.

And I would do it all again.

Stackhouse the Poet Donates His Dick to Charity

Stackhouse The Poet’s “bitches with no self confidence love buying their own drinks and driving home in neons”:

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#1 reason the strip in Tallahassee are strong proponents of fat ugly customers….No Mirrors in any of their bathrooms. WTF, I’m sorry but I need to look at my fine ass after I take a piss, or blow down coke off of a dirty toilet seat. 4 bars, and not 1 mirror, f*cking bush league.

I’m gonna donate my dick to charity tonight, get ready busted bitches, here comes ur porn star tax right off. Get Some
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The Dweeble

Dweebles wobble, but they don’t fall down.

They do, however, bust orange-face kissy lips while making dual sideways peace signs, while arm hooking the perfectly delectable tiramisu hottness of Kiya.

I would air guitar to six hours of the Jonas Brothers on continual loop while standing naked on stage at Staples Center just for the chance to lick the dried crystalline sweat beads left behind by her thigh after test using a Bowflex in 2007.

The Hairodox

I have a question for fun-house-mirror Peter Dinklage douche.

Does the Hairdox discrepancy between face and chest so confuse Patti and Elanor, that they willingly allow your shoulder to mash their boobs during photos?

Thankfully, forty bottles of Grey Goose are about to intervene like an invading Dalek army.