Sushi Head
Uhm, yes, waiter? My sashimi seems to have been served on top of a oily bohunk.
Can you take it back?
But leave the giggle hottie rice bowl. For she is very tasty.
Six Asians and a Pud
Figured I’d give this one a literal name. Because I’m literal like that.
It’s early on a Tuesday, and your humble narrator is enjoying a tasty bowl of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes. Because eating sugar cereal gets back at my parents who never bought me the stuff when I was a kid. Take that, Raisin Bran!
So what’s with Barry Pepper’s career, anyway? Hasn’t really taken off since Battlefield Earth tried to sell the L. Ron Hubbard cult to the masses.
Very troubling. Culture clash. Accept the mystery.
Gunter Von Crotchian
What else do you expect to find at the Blue Moon Diner at 2am on a Tuesday? The rules are different. It’s after hours.
Cuff links on the neck. Zombie stare. Douche shirt.
Awkward shouler fondle on Waitress Alyssa.
And, the piece de resistance, the gun bling belt buckle.
Because the phallus is a weapon.
Pepilepsi Pete
Today’s HCwDB brought to you without further chin pube interruption by Pepsi.
Pepsi. The choice of a New Generation.
And Affliction wearing gel heads rubbing up on glorious brunette suckle-thigh in nuclear rainforests.
Guess who Voted in the Weekly?
None other than Sir Sucks-a-Lot, aka Studs Urkel.
One of the most insidious of the cryptic douche legends that has ever appeared on HCwDB. Always in disguise.
But I caught you this time, Sir S.A.L.
Even with Zebra Stripe Boobs calling me to bounce on their pleather softness like a drunken doe after rainfall. And even with Old Guy, and Random Douche Hat Tilt Guy in the picture.
I may make an exec decision and put Sir Sucks in the Yearly. He lost the Monthly to the Ghoulbag, but is so douche-worthy, and with so many hotts in his orbit, he deserves consideration.
And by consideration, I mean jackbooted thugs stealing his Macaroni and Cheese while he’s out at the DMV clearing up his speeding tickets.
HCwDB of the Week
Your humble narrator spent the weekend in deep meditative repose. What did I learn? That Mad Men needs more Peyton List.
Here’s your finalists:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Tony the Mack and Paulina
Tony and Paulina might not have made it if not for pic #2. That mauling by furry chin deserves Weekly consideration.
Tony brings understated douchal silk shirted game to the Weekly.
And by understated, I mean four buttons leading to two buttons, leading to chin pube.
And the alien in the TV helps compliment the curvy grabbitude of Paulina’s lithe shoulder suckle tenderness.
I would lick and grab with great aplomb.
Which would, of course, make it macking, and therefore I would become my own version of Tony.
Which is the douchal conundrum. The mobius strip, if you will, of douchadox. Sponsored by Axe.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The ‘Barrowbag and Alana
Matt Florian, aka “The ‘Barrowbag,” was first featured in Friday’s Haiku, but the general wrongness of this pic stayed with me through the weekend like a festering toe-jam bruise.
As such, I’m tossing it in the Weekly and seeing where it flushes.
Alana has the arched back and firm thighs of prime childbearing years. I would reward her for her genetic gifts with flowers from Parisian hot houses, natural organic honeys from Paraguay, and myself, humping her childhood teddybear when she was in the kitchen getting us tea.
Finally, we’ve seen shirtless douchebaggery in bars, clubs, and all sorts of places.
But I need a ruling here.
Is shirtlessness in a bathroom while doggie ‘bagging still a place where shirtlessness should not occur? It is the bathroom, after all.
I still vote gach.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Kevin’s Wild Years
It’s not just the swirly hair, the rosarie beads and the punchable chinstrap on Kevin, as he mugs Cambridge Rachel.
Well, yes, I suppose it is all of those things.
But it’s also the air of quiet desperation.
We see it even more pronounced in pic #2.
I feel for Kevin.
And not just because he reminds me of every Boston Irish kid from Southie or the Point who started drinking at twelve to block out their parental neglect and limited life prospects.
But I mock douche macking on hott. And Kevin Flynn from Boston is most certainly mockworthy.
Wicked.
I’m eliminating the tragicomic orangeness of The Agonizer on account of potential gaybaggery and a lack of true hott, and general stomach churning nastiness. Instead, I’m moving that mess directly to the Closet of Poo.
Also just missing the cut was The Appendix Lick. And while the gorgeosity of Musika Boobsenfeld in Zombieland has brought calls for Hall of Hott, I’m not ready to award that just yet. Nor could the pic really make the Weekly, with the three average scrotes hanging off her bosom chords.
So which of these three deserve to win the Weekly?
You know what to do.
Cast your vote in the comments thread.
Douchebag vs. Rabbis
Douchebag vs. Rabbis in a cosmic dance-off between Hasidim and Scrotestum.
Who will win?
Hashem? Or Armani-Exchange?
No More Chicago Taggin'
Burnt Red writes in:
—-
There is a picture of me on your website called Chicago Taggin’ published on October 08th at 2:50 PM. I would like that picture removed immediatly. This picture was copied and lifted off my hidden Facebook page. Meaning that I hold this intellectual property and have sole right to the distribution of the photograph. I was never given a release to sign on this behalf. You have been notified of this compromise and will seek legal action if the picture is not removed immediately.
Respectfully,
(Burnt Red)
—-
I love it when ‘bags talk all legal and stuff.
No More Chicago Taggin’
Burnt Red writes in:
—-
There is a picture of me on your website called Chicago Taggin’ published on October 08th at 2:50 PM. I would like that picture removed immediatly. This picture was copied and lifted off my hidden Facebook page. Meaning that I hold this intellectual property and have sole right to the distribution of the photograph. I was never given a release to sign on this behalf. You have been notified of this compromise and will seek legal action if the picture is not removed immediately.
Respectfully,
(Burnt Red)
—-
I love it when ‘bags talk all legal and stuff.
Friday Thoughts and Links
Ah Francine. My Francine.
I must save thee. From the illegitimate son of Bob Dylan and Pedro Sánchez. Before Napoleon sees.
For I respect you for your mind. And my desire to softly rub mashed blackberry jam atwixt your thighs using only a spoon and a dollop of Oxyclean for some extra tingle is purely in the interests of science.
I would gnaw. Upon Francine’s shoulder suckle. And then I would dream of cake.
Here’s your Friday Links:
Here’s a behind-the-scenes pic from Season #2 of my show, Is She Really Going Out With Him?, which just finished our first week of shooting. The Giggle Hotties are regrouping over lattes.
Oh Skweezy, you wacky dude, you almost had it.
Scientists name a foot long leech after New Jersey. Up next, a new strain of ass herpes named after Scottsdale.
This delightful European Quartasian has extremely large breasts and librarian glasses. I felt it needed reiterating.
Renowned actor Bruce Greenwood (Thirteen Days, The Sweet Hereafter, Capt. Pike in this year’s Star Trek) got his start in the best T&A movie of the 1980s, Malibu Bikini Shop.
We’ve seen douchey Yankee caps. Now check out a douchey Yankee.
Breaking: Canadian Douchebags Slain in Mexico. It’s not nice to make fun of murdered people. Unless you’re Jay Leno and it’s Nicole Brown Simpson.
Details is the latest magazine to jump on HCwDB inspired scrotal deconstruction, and gets ridiculed here, although I can make neither heads nor ass pear out of the logic being used.
Speaking of true greatness, lets not forget what a real punk legend looks like, Joan Jett, who continues to blow today’s wannabes off stage.
Okay.
You’ve been good. Sink your teeth into this Meaty Meat Ass Pear. They are two finely shaped Christmas hams swirling amidst kaleidoscope eyes as I bite them with Aunt Bea watching proudly from the kitchen.
And celebrate. For it is Friday.
