HCwDB of the Month
Like a tasty chocolate truffle covered with moldy ass taint, our four couples each bring a unique angle to the HCwDB experience. But which will rise to the top/bottom?
Which will earn a slot in the HCwDB of the Year?
That, friends, is up to you. Your nominees:
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: The Eurobag and Monique
Creepy eyes. Angora sweater. Shaved chest. Bedazzled jeans.
Toulouse Lautrec just encouraged Man Ray to tack his ballsack to an art museum wall and call it art.
Monique is giggly and freshly scrubbed and comes to Los Angeles to see Dodger Stadium.
Because why else come to America but to see Dodger Stadium?
Together, this coupling is real world poopyhead.
Therefore we must mock. It is our global civic duty. To help our European bretheren, as we did in WWII.
Note to the ladies: The black lacy bra-strap poking out of a wide necked t-shirt? Yes please.
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: Scrote Baio and Ophelia
Charles in charge… of looking like ass… and like poo…
Not since Heather Locklear’s boobs popped out in Zapped! has Scrote Baio achieved tosser-like status.
Joker hat, mandana. Man Ray just tacked his head to a wall and called it “poo.”
In the jokes industry, that’s what they call a “callback.” Because I’m down with the lingo.
Back to Baio, Baio’s got the garish tatts, the designer basketball jersey, and the head too large for his body.
Sweet, innocent Ophelia. Like Monique, this is the second purity hott in the contest, adding an extra toxic level to the commingling with toad. Sure they probably won’t win, but lets not overlook their worthiness to be here.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Schmuckhead and Claudina Ass Pear
Schmuckhead brings two very potent angles to the game.
1. Chin dribble and ‘tude.
2. Tremendously impressive and rage worthy fondling of female Ass Pear.
Observe the Schmuckhead/AssPear run as seen in pic #2, pic#3 and pic#4.
Sure the ladies are trampy hotts. In annoying Ed Hardy-esque dresses and making puckers and kissy lips.
But curvy badonka-ass cannot be denied it’s impressive talents. And Schmuckhead’s club haunting foolifery deserves its rightful place in societal mock.
HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: Smoot and Crystal
The run of pics bespeak a hottie/douchey legend, as seen in pic #2, pic #3 , pic #4, pic #5, pic #6. and pic #7.
But has Smoot’s attitude faded with time? Or is he going to crush the competition and take his place in the 2009 Douchie Award’s coveted HCwDB of the Year category?
What of Crystal’s attitudinal hottness? Not as innocent as some of the others in competition.
But sweet and curvy nonetheless.
Worth saving from Smoot’s pumped up charms.
So which of these four Weekly winners earns your vote? Step up. Don’t be shy. Plunk down your hypothetical dollar and take your shot at the cans.
As always, in the comments thread.
WHOOOOOAAAA!!!
WHOOOAAA!!!
Jerz Guids are funny.
(Warning: No hotts for counterbalance, but too funny not to post.)
DJ AM Dies
DJ AM, aka Adam Goldstein, died last night at the age of 36 of an apparent drug overdose.
Don’t know much about DJ AM, other than the fact he was engaged to Nicole Ritchie at one point, and he also dated the ubiquitous Mandy Moore, who would bang a pogo stick if it meant a guest starring on primetime.
While I considered DJ AM part of that wave of “Celeb” DJ douchebaggery that swamped the gene pool about five to six years ago, his style wasn’t nearly as garish and annoying as some of the others, and he had a pretty good sense of humor about the whole celeb thing.
The guy went through some pretty traumatic stuff. Death earns at least a temporary Nottadouche during the mourning period.
RIP DJ AM. Hopefully you’ll be spinning in your grave.
Wait. That didn’t sound right.
Your Saturday Schmuckhead
Schmuckhead and his curvy Ass Pear girlfriend, Claudina, are gearing up for Monday’s HCwDB of the Month.
Damn. Way too much exploding human form for a Saturday. I need a coffee.
Friday Thoughts and Links
In honor of Brothabag Mason, a submitter sent me this pic of a genetic Brundlefly cross splicing of Eagle Eye Cherry, El Debarge and Mr. T.
Submitter suggested we name him “Mr. D.” I’m on board with that.
Nice to see the Brothabags representing this week with a strong comeback on the site. It’s important to remember how varied and complex the Grieco virus actually is. Douchewankery cuts across all cultural, ethnic and regional lines to form global poo.
I have little else to offer in the ways of personal wisdom on this smoggy Los Angeles Friday. I will celebrate my Friday with cheap wine, sugary food product, and continuing cultural wiseass commentary from a safe distance.
Here’s your links:
Tracy Leans to use Facebook. The hard way.
The Miami Heat’s Michael Beasley is poised to challenge Denver’s Chris Andersen for 2009/2010 Doucheballer of the Year.
Someone named Ryan Cabrera is theoretically a celebrity, although I have no idea who he is. What’s not in dispute is that he’s a douche.
KFC introduces the “double down” sandwich. The bun is made out of fried chicken. I must have this. I will slather it upon the back of Mila Kunis, and then nibble it softly.
Ah, nice to see my issue of Collared Douche Magazine just arrived. Nice! An interview with director Michael Bag!
Ed Hardy snow gear. Fellow ‘bag hunters, we’re losing the war. We must mock harder.
GQ offers up America’s 25 douchiest colleges. While they’re unclear on the finer points of scrotal discourse, I still give credit for the effort.
The NFL targets the lucrative football fan douchebag market.
And finally, to honor the start of football season, here’s a tasty little Footballette Ass Pear. Hike.
Jacqueline and the Beanstalk
Fe Fi Fo Fum…
I smell the pud of a Vegas scrum…
The Long Island Standards
Just your average all suburban stage-1 HCwDB.
Standard issue Long Island Choad rubbing up on a standard issue Long Island Bounce Girl.
They’ll get married and have standard issue annoying kids that they’ll cart around in CostCo while buying standard issue food. Wow. This narrative is depressing me.
Nothing overwhelmingly douchey.
Well, maybe that chinstrap.
Friday Haiku
Gangsta Marilyn,
Hollywood nightmare for Cindy,
Should’ve stayed in Maine.
The Seven Year Itch
is what this bleeth will contract.
Crab infested faux
— the douche is alright
Rebellious punks
Wearing their designer clothes
Then listen to Pink.
— Crucial Head
“I boned JFK,
and I all I got was trapped on
some douchebag’s T-shirt.”
— Mr. White
Birthmark on temple
Target for the poison arrow
Slumps to ground in pile
— Douche Wayne
Jude Law photographed
Researching role as Glenn Plake.
Palm tree, please fall down.
— boatbutter
The Rooster chief douche.
Squawks at Ginger Spice hottie
Hides shame behind shades
— Vacuum Cleaner Bagg
Monroe wife beater
screams classy next to bleach bleeth
his mole burns my soul
— Roscoe P. Scrotestain
Chason Takes a Break
Because maintaining the Fauxhawk Spike is hard work.
Sometimes ya just gotta kick back with the cocktail waitress who works the midnight to eight AM shift on a Tuesday.
This may or may not be Brothabag Mason, but I’ve already started drinking, so I’m calling him Chason until the regs weigh in.
Punchy McGee
Okay, I can tell that this stage-1 ‘bags in presence of hott experiment has failed to inspire the creative wordsmithing from the regulars.
So here’s Punchy McGee.
If this clown don’t fire up your synapses, thereby channeling cultural dissatisfaction into creative productivity, then I’ll spank a lemur with a lemon wedge.
And by spank a lemur with a lemon wedge, I do not mean a euphemism for masturbation. I mean a euphemism for blumpkins.
