HCwDB of the Week: Pablows Bigbozo and Art School Tina
This was more a week for the boobie hottie suckle thigh lovers among us. Each hott was delectable. As such, it was a very close vote. But it is Pablows, aka The Hambagler, and sexy cosmpolitan Art School Tina, who eeked out the win in a closely divided vote. The voters speak:
Douches Wild: My vote is for Pablows, he demonstrates once again that no matter how many convoluted layers of self conscious pseudo-irony a Baggeriono might marshal in the pursuit of authenticity, the net effect will always be POSEUR, ergo Douche
IdahoHottPotato: I’m going with Pablow and Art School Tina. Because together they remind me of Stephanie and Johnny from Grease 2, and I HATED Grease 2. I suspect T-Birds and Pink Ladies were early hot chick and douchebag prototypes.
Darth Doucheous: I think that the douchiest is Pablows Bigbozo , look at that hat tilt. And the kissy lips… ugh. Guppy looks like a Halloween costume, and Lars would get a notadouche from many and maybe even me depending if I have a good day and I feel lenient…
Saving Private Guido: Pablows Bigbozo FTW! It’s a cruel summer and Lars definitely puts up a strong fight. But in the end, Pablows’ douche face makes me want to beat down DJ Lance from Yo-Gabba-Gabba with a sock full of locks.
the motley douche: Oh, Pablows. I question your hott, but not nearly as much as your kissy face. What the hell?!?.
Anonne Huntress: Pablows Bigbozo ftw. Because guybrowliner and carefully tweezed chin pubes around punchworthy gay-ass kissy lips sucks.
Dr. DB: I vote Pablows. I don’t even think copying Sammy Davis Jr. in the 60’s was cool, so why now? Also, the 45 degree knit cap tilt only worked for Bing Crosby in White Christmas. So no, the candy man can’t, and Pablows can FTW.
John Scrotavich: Pablows, because he has the nerve to frame his own douchosity.
Medusa Oblongata: . I went to art school. Art school, like any school, teems with dudes trying to get laid. Although, unlike the muttonhead fratdouche approach, the Art choad id far more devious and sinister. Weeping for a dead girlfriend who never existed, pretending to be on heroin, pretending to be gay, these are some of the brushes in the painting kit of the art douche.
Guns n Douches: I thought there would be no clearcut winner, but this schmuck take it. Is he a DJ? An impressionist painter? Doesn’t matter. Kissylips plus knit-hat-tilt equals douche. So, Pablows gety my seal of approval for the weekly. And by seal of approval, I mean jackboot to the gonads in hopes of rendering him impotent.
Publius Choadius Naso: Pablows and his kanga-tilting, chin-pubing, pleather-wearing, gesture-dropping, kissy-fronting schtick FTW. Get your hands off of her; she’s too good for you.
Crazed Aborigine: There is a strong whiff of gaybaggery here, but assuming he actually has, somewhere in his tiny lizard brain, some form of lust for Tina’s perfect smile, perfect cheekbones, and black-and-pink-striped sweater dress perfection, he has to be named the winner (loser) of the week
teh abominable snowdouche: Make no mistake my friends. PB is not a human being but a squirt of mongoose excrement on the Mona Tina. Art lovers all over the globe puke now. Pablows FTL.
Nicely argued panel, and I agree that potential gaybaggery is not certain with this kissy lipsian Milli Vanilli fool. Coming in second was the dress-up fratbaggery of The Guppy and Belly Dancer Jessica:
-crazy-sexy-douche: The Guppy FTW!!!!! I knew a douchebag who looked just like him in college, he was always trying to sell me tickets to college snowboarding trips. Also, there are parts of Jessica’s body I would lick that even the Germans couldn’t forgive.
Desert Douche: The Guppy FTW. He’s watched every Scott Caan movie from “Enemy of the State” to “Ocean’s 13” and tries too hard to emulate. Although I question Jessica’s decision to meet this preppy pud at an Hampton Inn, I do not doubt her ability to reduce this “American Psycho” reject to tears.
notadouche: I vote Guppybag because even though I would spend a year in Sri Lanka rubbing a midget jungle god’s feet just for the chance to quality control check Ariella’s bathing suit, the hottie-douchey dynamic in The Guppy’s pic is just too strong.
shawk: Mr. Guppy will have a moderately successful career in the financial skimming industry, thanks to his previous experience in providing dried vegetable extract products to his college frat mates. Fortunately, Mr. Guppy won’t be able to afford the divorce.
Dude McCrudeshoes: I luv Belly Dancer Jessica. She looks like ‘That Girl’ Marlo Thomas had a love child with Barbara Eden. Sure, it’s weird and creepy to picture them now, but picture them bumping fuzzies circa 1968.
The Guppy was a worthy ‘bag, and Jessica was teeth meltingly hott, but the dress-up factor cost them in the Weekly. A very close third place, with solid support, was the dual nakedness of Lars and Ariella.
Adrian.W.: Lars is a ‘modest’ douche I’ll admit – although I use the term lightly, it’s an oxymoron is it not? But Ariella’s curves are arranged in a way that make a race track jealous… finished with a transparent outfit that even a blind man could see through.
Bob: Lars and Ariella. Choadiest scrote and most amazing hott.
Motherscratcher: He makes me more sure than ever that we are past the point of no return heading for the terrifying apocalytic future envisioned by Cormac McCarthy.
little beaver: Ariella is a natural beauty, so comfortable with her body that this is her game day and or concert attire. Tina looks perfectly comfortable in an art gallery, but needs to show more skin for the win this week.
I agree that Lars did not get the mock his undies-poke deserved, and Ariella is curve perfection. But the Bigbozo was too art-school annoying while humping Tina in front of an empty frame that betrays our societal soul’s blankness. Lets turn it over to Baron Von Goolo to take us home:
Pablows bring a breath of fresh air into the ranks of the Smoots and Stackhouses. And by “fresh air” I mean metrosexual, free-Freixenet-at-the-art-gallery-opening yak fart. Plus, creepy, hairy lemur fingers. Long, tall Art School Tina with her twinkling eyes and enviable capacity for horizontal stripes may not be the hottest hott in the room, but she’s the one you’re still thinking about three days later as you futilely start stalking the organic produce section at any Trader Joe’s within a five mile radius of Wilshire and Fairfax because you know that you will die dry and hollow without another serendipitous glimpse of that perfect smile, like ivory cobblestones paving the path to Nirvana, where birds of paradise chirp out the winning Powerball numbers. That, and you want her to touch your winky.
Superbly, kickassingly done as well, props to all who voted. And the DB1 for Cornflakes. With lots of sugar added. Because there was a sale on Cornflakes. Even though Cornflakes do not bring the Frosted.
Where's Cheeto Man?
Somewhere in this pic of Tri-Vag tough guy and a brunette with eyes that demand shoulder lickage, I’ve carefully hidden 2009 Douchie Winner Cheeto Man.
Look closely.
Can you scar your retinas by finding him?
Where’s Cheeto Man?
Somewhere in this pic of Tri-Vag tough guy and a brunette with eyes that demand shoulder lickage, I’ve carefully hidden 2009 Douchie Winner Cheeto Man.
Look closely.
Can you scar your retinas by finding him?
What's Wrong With This Clown's Hair?
Okay kids, time to play another round of the game that’s sweeping the interwebs, What’s Wrong With This Clown’s Hair?
Is it:
A. Semen malfunction
B. That darned static cling
C. One of the early experiments of hybrid Cylon-human technology on Caprica
D. An example of the rare mythological creature, the Douchenicorn
E. He’s just happy to see her
What’s Wrong With This Clown’s Hair?
Okay kids, time to play another round of the game that’s sweeping the interwebs, What’s Wrong With This Clown’s Hair?
Is it:
A. Semen malfunction
B. That darned static cling
C. One of the early experiments of hybrid Cylon-human technology on Caprica
D. An example of the rare mythological creature, the Douchenicorn
E. He’s just happy to see her
The Slackerbag
Halfhearted faux.
Halfhearted douche-face.
Halfhearted sideways hand gesture.
Halfhearted silly tee and bling.
It’s like the kids just aren’t trying anymore. The Puritan Douche Ethnic has been lost in a haze of meaningfully marked up copies of Moby Dick and Big Fun concerts.
But at least I have awesome leg gnaw to consider. For Heather’s posterior is glorious.
Classic Jerz Pud
With all this Jersey Shore hype these days, it seems the rest of America finally figured out how much fun it is to mock the spectacle of Jerz Douche macking on the trampy hotts.
It should be noted, however, that Jerz Puds are not all about getting drunk and into fights. Because nothing says “peace” quite like the sideways peace sign.
And, of course, the female’s response to the sideways peace sign, the “Peace Boobies.”
Reader Mail: You're All Bitter Because You're Ugly
A critic of HCwDB responds in the comments threads:
—-
people just seem angry here–a girl who he turned down probably uploaded the picture because theyre jealous hes pictured with a pretty girl…and every guy commenting on this site is bitter because theyre ugly
—-
You know who’s really angry? Apostrophe Guy. He keeps getting left out.
Reader Mail: You’re All Bitter Because You’re Ugly
A critic of HCwDB responds in the comments threads:
—-
people just seem angry here–a girl who he turned down probably uploaded the picture because theyre jealous hes pictured with a pretty girl…and every guy commenting on this site is bitter because theyre ugly
—-
You know who’s really angry? Apostrophe Guy. He keeps getting left out.
The Guccbag
PIC DELETED
This dead-eyed zombific genetic mutant cross between B.J. Novak from The Office, and West Hollywood party boy Zachary Quinto is all sorts of vulcan eared wrong.
For that, we call him Guccbag. And mock, with pensive aplomb.
Stacey is golden, awkward and shiny.
Even as her annoying nasal twang would make the cognitive section of my brain cry out in angst for the God that isn’t, I would nod and smile politely.
And hope for brief boob gazelle graze at the end of the night.
