No More "Luigi's Triple Pop"
Luigi writes in:
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Hey Man,
I think the picture and caption of me are HILARIOUS…i really do…this picture is actually from a douchebag theme party…by making the site it looks like i dressed right…i would really appreciate it if you took the picture down though…i’m a district attorney and would appreciate it not being posted…you labeled me “luigi’s tripple pop”…which is a hilarious title by the way…thank you so much and please inform me (if possible) when you take it down…
keep up the great site,
(luigi)
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Feh, I was told the pic was legit, not a dressup. But while D.A.s who can’t spell “triple” deserve some mock, I’m a fair half-drunk unshowered guy, so I’ll scratch myself and do the right thing.
Instead, here’s a luscious Satin Cupcake posing with Elton’s John.
No More “Luigi’s Triple Pop”
Luigi writes in:
—-
Hey Man,
I think the picture and caption of me are HILARIOUS…i really do…this picture is actually from a douchebag theme party…by making the site it looks like i dressed right…i would really appreciate it if you took the picture down though…i’m a district attorney and would appreciate it not being posted…you labeled me “luigi’s tripple pop”…which is a hilarious title by the way…thank you so much and please inform me (if possible) when you take it down…
keep up the great site,
(luigi)
—-
Feh, I was told the pic was legit, not a dressup. But while D.A.s who can’t spell “triple” deserve some mock, I’m a fair half-drunk unshowered guy, so I’ll scratch myself and do the right thing.
Instead, here’s a luscious Satin Cupcake posing with Elton’s John.
Friday Haiku
What Zen Force grabs hotts?
Hark! Undercover Stallion,…
‘Tis Samurai Scrote.
Bunny Suckle Hotts
Make sandwich from Samurai
No mustard: napalm.
— Douche Wayne
Got the girls angry.
Way to celebrate Easter.
Between hot cross buns.
— Rage and Lust in the time of Holbrooks
Samuri Scrote pulls
The long tall bunny hotts, his
Eggs; color by Paas.
– Captain Bringdown
And on the sixth day
Samürai Sørote created
Rabbits for pleasure.
— Crucial Head
Poo in a bunny
sandwich. Somewhere Hefner cries,
“I did not want this!”
— Joey Jo Jo Shabbadouche
Ask DB1: Game Over
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Hey DB1,
I’ve noticed lately on your site, you have posted some stuff regarding the doucheness of gamebags (Russell Brand, Everybody doesn’t love Raymond, Mystery)….
While I would agree that their spectacle makes them douchified, I think we may be a little hard on them. I, for instance, am trying to get better with women myself..So, naturally, some of the stuff the gamebags discuss are good applications to use in the dating game (eg. 3 second rule when approaching a woman). At what point do we accept the gamebags, because, for good or for worse, some of their ideas can help great guys (like me), make success………….Does that make me a douche for accepting some of their ideas?
I’m not saying that they are off the hook for mocking, but where is the fine-line between using good dating ideas and becoming a douche? I, like you (im assuming), want to be great with women like they are.
Cheers,
Jason
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The problem, Jason, is that it wasn’t always this way. The acquisition of the hott didn’t always function as a scoreboard for masculine accomplishment.
Your goals are laudable. You desire the boobie hottie suckle thigh. However what you do in pursuit of the hott, how much you allow yourself to transform into douchey-ass spectacle, is as important as the end result.
We must shift the culture around us. Bring back laughter and goofiness and fun to the mating game. It doesn’t have to be the dour, humorless contest of wills and egos that has been sold to us by the culture industry because it’s profitable for them to turn us into walking billboards.
If enough of us push back, the shift will take place.
Doughboy and Gidget
It’s like a 1950s Frankie Avalon surfer comedy by way of late 1990s Ska-punk Long Beach douche mashup.
Keep makin’ the Kissy Lips, Doughboy. The only thing saving you from a stage-4 uberdouche is the lack of “gang” hand gestures and the lack of Ubiquitous Red Cup.
Gidget has the disposition of sunshine retrograde Norman Rockwell Fictive Nostalgic Never-Was.
And, in the parlance of the early Greek philosophers, gigantic gimnimony grab-worthy hooters.
Am I making any sense today? I need another coffee.
The Immortal Pumpy
One of the first truly breakout pics to appear on the site, before the Oompa Prompas, before The Gator, was the legendary boob grab of Pumpy.
Pumpy was instant legend.
Sadly, Pumpy passed away in Vegas a few months later, and so we moved him out of the Hall of Scrote and gave him his very own memorial section on the site.
But before he passed on to the party in the sky, Pumpy lived the life that only a superhuman can. For those of you with more than a passing interest in Pumpy’s Girl, here’s more on her from Coed Magazine.
We miss your Zen boob grabs and pokey underwear, Pumpster.
R.I.P.
Brazilian Honey and Nuclear Head
Smoking Paola from Brazil still hasn’t figured out which is worse, American Douchewanks, or getting robbed by local street urchins during Carnivale.
I’ll give Ted on the right a borderline nottadouche.
But you, Nuclear Head? You are a squated turd from 1993 left to harden in the frozen snow of the Adirondacks. Until eventually it spontaneously acquired consciousness. And made the “Rock Star Horns.”
Lake Woe Begone Daze
A Pooey Home Companion, indeed.
Renaldouche
Jim makes the Soccer ‘Bag Tag:
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DB1-
Despite being voted the best soccer player in the world, Ronaldouche’s careless over extension into douchitude has rendered him insolvent.
Much like his team’s sponsor AIG, Ronaldouche has finally defaulted on his non-douche liquidity, and must now be propped up by an ever dwindling pool of scrote bailout in the form of advertisements and brand name sponsorship.
-Jim
——
And 45 Degree Hat Tilt and Jesus Bling. At the beach.
However, L’italiano’s boobinos are tutto buono. Even if she looks a bit bucktoothy here. But we should grant leeway due to the awkward position.
Speaking of Italian Hottness, mmm…. Monica Bellucci. I would Mary her Magdelines while Matrixing her, uhm, boobs.
Story This Pic
There’s a story here. It’s strange and complex. And involves ferrets. And Raisinettes. And a Hawaiian spy named Juanita smuggling the stolen battle plans in her high heels.
But I can’t figure it out. So I turn it over to you.
Post your best one paragraph summary of the events that led to this photo and you could win a free glass of water and napkin at your nearest Sizzler Steakhouse, courtesy of HCwDB.
Go to it.
