Friday Haiku
Post turkey headache,
Hungover. Can only take,
stage-1 douche/hott pair.
Red cup, bikinis,
and fauxhawked douchebags don’t mix,
except at parties.
— Don’t wheeze the douche!
Perky co-ed hott
Should be experimenting
But not with this choad
— Anonymous
“Wow, what’s with your hair?
It’s standing at attention”
“That means I like you!”
— Anonymous
It’s the third Darren
Magic doesn’t twitch her nose
But his poo smell does
— DarkSock
My drink’s spiked with X!
You wanna hit of this, babe?
Hey, my shorts threw up!!!
— Anonymous
Happy Thanksgiving
May all your choadwanks be stuffed, and may all your hotts be Elizabeth Banks.
From all of us here at HCwDB, Happy Thanksgiving.
And by all of us, I mean me. Pass the damn stuffing.
Dung
As we head into Thanksgiving, I thought we should collectively contemplate the Dungbag.
Not to be confused with Fung, Dung is that sneaky type of stage 1 or stage 2 ‘bag. The type without a job who wears guyliner into the bar where he works and reads emo books by candlelight. The type whose pasty ass and stupid pickup lines we all laugh at.
Until he snags Rachel.
The hott of hotts you knew in college. Sweet and funny and making a great salary as a junior executive. The type who cries at Pixar films and laughs at your jokes.
Yet somehow she’s dating Dung.
And the world is shaken off-kilter by the smell of uberpoo-osity once again.
Wednesday Limerick
Thanksgiving is just around the corner,
As Tim the Choadstool makes the “Double Horner,”
Kylie Minogue Hott endures,
Sweaty Tim’s got clogged pores,
And smells like football’s Kurt Warner.
Ask DB1: "The Rockstar Leniency Rule"
—-
DB1 –
A friend of mine on FB commented on somebody’s photo, and I stumbled on this while browsing the rest of the album. This guy is apparently in a “crunk” rock band. Not sure what that means, but I immediately think of garbage like Buckcherry. Either way, he deserves to be on your site, rock star or not.
And actually, I disagree with your tendency to go lightly on rock and celebri-douches. They deserve as much (if not many times more) bashing as the lesser ‘bags who have yet to achieve infamy of any kind. I mean, if you’re already famous and have the things you want in life, why be a douche? What purpose does it serve other than warn others to hold their breath as they pass you by? Unless the ways of douche are not merely a tool, but nothing less than the essence of existence for these types, and that, of course, makes celebri-douches all the more ridiculous and mockable.
—-
You bring up an important point, BM, so lets clarify.
The “Rockstar Leniency Rule” merely states that those who achieve a performative douchosity in service of spectacle as it relates to career are given wider latitude to be uberscrote.
This does not mean “exemption.” Only leniency.
For example, Gene Simmons of KISS often acts douchey. But that’s part of his shtick. Same for many W.W.E. wrestlers. If it’s a form of kabuki — douchery as element of the theatrical — then we allow some leniency. Otherwise, rockstars can be just as choady as anyone else, and should be mocked accordingly.
The Hardy Boy
Read the latest book in The Hardy Boy series as the Hardy Boy takes on his most challenging mystery yet, in The Case of the Drunken Bleeth.
Coming soon in paperback from Del Rey.
Touch of Grey
Let’s see.
Standing near a pouty brunette lightly slapping a blonde’s marshmallow.
Making what appears to be a “Half Shocker,” or a retarded “Westside” hand gesture with one’s hand.
Sneering at the camera and completely ignoring the marshmallow fondle taking place right in front of you.
Add ’em up, son, and you got the Greyson Twins of douchescrotery.
Wookin' Pa Nub
Nub’s out of control!! He’s snapped Blondie’s neck and twisted her arm 180 degrees. Now he’s got the suntan lotion and giant yellow lace-less Converse shoes…
Lookout!!
Where's Waldouche? Beachbag Edition
Somewhere in the lineup of healthy, perky coeds at the beach, I’ve carefully hidden a puka shell wearing, chin pube growing, giant mandanna’d beachbag.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
