The Jerzey Meatwich
Poor Nicole.
All she wanted was a chicken Caesar salad.
Brooke and The Tangelo
Listen, Brooke.
I know you’ve hated your dad ever since he stopped paying for your tuition at Bennington when you ran up that 3K on his credit card after pledge week.
But still. Must you date the Tangelo?
Look at that smarmy douche-face and by now standard 2009 highly creative “Middle Finger” hand gesture.
He’s not even trying to scrote it up.
Pick a direction, Brooke. Either go full retard to the dark side, or come back to the light.
And by come back to the light, I mean let me massage your toesies with melted peeps and a butter wedge.
Nigel Stays Young
It’s okay, Nigel. Put down the hair gel, take off the bling, and back away from the MILF.
Middle Age really isn’t as bad as it looks.
Well, okay, it probably is.
But still. Let it go.
HCwDB Halloween Pics
The pics are pouring in, and there are some hilarious HCwDB costumes from last weekend. Like Ben here.
But since your humble narrator is vaguely hung over, I probably won’t get around to going through them all and posting them until this weekend.
But if you went as a douchey/hottie couple, or just a lone scrote, send your pic in, and I’ll post the best ones next week.
Breaking: The Beckhams Douche Up their Kid
Dear Britain,
You once gave us Shakespeare, Dickens, Wilde and The Beatles.
Now you give us this.
Piss off.
Sincerely,
The Rest of the World
Axl Boot
And when he’s not impressing the Vegas Townies, Axl’s leather rubber wrist thing can repair my car’s rear chassis.
Spanky Voted
Even though he’s pissed that not only didn’t his girl get any love last week, but his smackdown was muted at best, Spanky still showed up to vote in the HCwDB of the Week.
Good for you for showing good sportsmanship, Spanky.
Now put on a shirt.
HCwDB of the Week
Our last weekly before what’s shaping up as an epic Monthly. Make it count.
Here’s your nominees:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Truckstop Pudwick and Shana
The Trucker Pud is all sorts of ass-kick-worthy Ed Hardy aging porch beef douche-poo.
There’s just something about his smug expression and hott fondle that encapsulates the HCwDB ‘tude, and for that, he is more (less) than the sum of his Hardy Parts.
I’m also pleased with the name “Truckstop Pudwick.”
I’m not sure why, but tell me it doesn’t summon the stench of beef jerky and cigarettes.
Shana is purity of hott fondle hott water bathing bath bubble grabby boobie tap dancing ass cheekathon.
I have no idea what I just wrote.
And yet, it is appropriate.
But enough to win the Weekly? We shall see.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Big Ben ‘Bag
The second in our “Pud” collection of bar trolling ass clowns in this Weekly, Big Ben ‘Bag brings the classic ubiquitous “Devil’s Horn” ‘bag hand gesture along with his alliterative name. And lets not forget Pic #2,, which confirms Holy White Triangle in the Book of Revelation.
As the Sideways Peace Sign and the Ubiquitous Shocker give way to new and more obnoxious ‘bag hand gestures, the “Devils Horns” is like the secondary classic rock classics of the oeuvre.
Like Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung.”
Never got its props, and was overshadowed by its flashier competitors like songs by the Beatles, Stones and the Who. But Aqualung is still in rotation on classic rock stations across the country, and always will be.
That’s my crappy Monday morning analogy, and I’m sticking to it.
Woe, lest I forget the genius of the Holy White Triangle, that calls to me to work overtime to buy her an expensive car before she divorces me anyway.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Bagpoleon Complex and Josephine
Do not let Bagpoleon fool you as a nottadouche.
Sure there’s no major hand gestures, no kissy lips, and no cap tilt.
But Six Pound Watch, Jesus bling at the pool, and hint of chin pube all suggest uber-scrote.
But the piece de resistance: Groin Shave Reveal.
That’s right. GSR. One of the worst of the 2009 ‘bag moves.
The pic thankfully prevents searing our retinas through cropping, but the evidence does not lie.
And what can we say about Josephine? She is corporeal perfection dipped in angelic fairy dust, and topped off with a french tickler. I would read exerpts from Balzac to a crowd of angry neo-luddites just for the chance to be repeatedly slapped by the festering carcass of a fish she ate for dinner in late 2005.
Uhm, she is hot.
(Dis)honorable mention to The Theory of Mandanativity, who just missed the cut, as well as The Fingerbag.
Which coupling has the right stench of douche-poo and tasty hott to create a dialectic of meaning that would make Hegel proud?
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
Where's Sir Sucks-a-Lot?: Dallas Edition
Somewhere in this depressing pileup of dancing generics having pseudo-fun I’ve carefully hidden HCwDB legend, Sir Sucks-a-Lot.
Look closely.
Can you flush him?
Where’s Sir Sucks-a-Lot?: Dallas Edition
Somewhere in this depressing pileup of dancing generics having pseudo-fun I’ve carefully hidden HCwDB legend, Sir Sucks-a-Lot.
Look closely.
Can you flush him?
