Saturday Nub
Emerging from his “Where’s Waldouche?” hiddenness, Nub makes his move…
EDIT: In the comments threads, Frodouche Baggins finds the stylin’ source of Nub’s threads.
Fung Friday
Another Friday afternoon. I sit and sip my plastic cup of Night Train, and down another HoHo, and contemplate the singularity that is the Oompa Prompa we call Fung.
Only Fung and DJ Bello may appear on this site without hot chick as counterbalance. Because they are too hilarious not to.
Fung is both Shakesperean and Biblical. By which I mean his iconographic legend is a grand tragedy buried within a narrative we can only glimpse in episodic parable.
But somewhere out there, there are the Douche Sea Scrolls. Once decoded by scholars, the D.S.S. will fill in the missing parts in the story of Fung.
And by missing parts, I mean… nah, that’s too easy.
Random links as I clean out the pixel closet:
2007 Douchebag of the Month winner, Mystery, is more like a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in fart.
Michael Godard. The pooiest artist since Jasper Johns. Yeah, I’m lookin’ at you, Jasper Johns.
He Just Bangs Bitches and Blows his Hair, then Makes the Kissy Lips. Facebook status: “I don’t just like Double D’s I endorse it.“
Tag Bodyspray now has a record label. But have they signed Buckcherry yet?
The MP3 Skull Belt. Douchey? Nerdy? Somewhat hilarious?
Peyton List may be dating a slice of scrotal taint, but secretly she wants to tap-dance on my lower pelvis area wearing only a Robin Hood outfit, stiletto heels and nursing a sickly marsupial she rescued while on vacation in the Australian outback.
The Cat Parable
You know when your cat sneaks into your studio and eats your giant silk-screened Rorschach Test inspired ink blot canvasses, then eats some cat food, then wanders outside and throws up on a girl who looks like Scarlett Johansson?
No? Well now you do.
That being said, this dude almost earns a nottadouche for lack of poseur “gangsta” demeanor. No hand gestures. Hair generally under control.
What say you? Should we forgive the tattedness and give the dude a pass?
Friday Tonguedouche
Here’s a little rank spew of Tonguedouche cohabitating in land of the four delicious, tasty, and bouncy Palm Frond Hotts to fire you up on a Friday.
Displaying the rare and unholy “Double Thumbs Up + Tongue” move, this Tonguedouche laughs in the face of a Godless universe.
He argues for a paradigm that allows Tonguescrote existence to deny all of human achievement in one spittle filled gesture of poo.
If this doesn’t get our collective heads to sever in half, 13 Ghosts style, then I don’t know what will.
Where's Waldouche? Nub Edition
Somewhere in this lineup of sultry, tasty Pink Sorority Champagne Hotts, I’ve carefully hidden a Nub.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Friday Haiku
Ed Hardy’s Turd Squat,
Grabs lime green Hoochie Hotma,
Who just quit Denny’s.
After school lets out
Shop teacher dresses up “cool”
Tries to lathe some skanks
— Mr. White
takes short bus to club,
not a pro like donkey douche,
nice toeless kneesocks.
– ‘bag lanta
Now that it’s harvest
Let’s turn this ‘bag upside down
And use for a plow.
— Crucial Head
his neck has vanished
replaced by excessive chin
she is soylent green
— paper or plastic?
It took him all day
To blow up his new sex doll
He still got turned down
– plinky
Snickers McFlurry
—-
Hi DB1,
This summer on the way to Lake Elsinore to wakeboard (a hotbed for bag spotting in and of itself) we stopped at McDonalds to drown our hangovers in french fry & hashbrown oil. I noticed an advertisement for the “Snickers McFlurry.”
At first, I thought it sounded like something a pornstar would name his pet. Upon further consideration, I think it is a good name for a douchebag. I’m picturing some kind of ski scrote or something, wearing ironic neon and a headband? You’re the brains behind this operation, what do you think?
Ciao,
Bad Kitty
Newport Beach
—-
Here you go. One HCwDB Snickers McFlurry.
To go.
The Douchestral Cycle II
From D.C.’s MySpace page:
—-
“Well…well..well… the pictures on this page.. just about sum it up for my intrests…………..there is a reason that my ancestors wrote the kama sutra…….ha ha ha…for those of you that are did not get it….going out..having fun…the pursuit of life….liberty and fun…….thats my intrests.”
—-
As Homi Bhabha observes, Western frameworks of colonialism fractured notions of the self among the occupied, yet maintained a complexity of interplay outside of reductive binaries. This cultural hierarchy utilized narratives to impose erasure, but also opened space for subaltern ideological challenge.
Or, to put it another way, his douchitude is the active response of reclaimation of the self utilizing the douchal tropes of the “other.”
That being said, even Gandhi knows this guy is a huge water sack of poo.
The Blob II: Jerz Ooze
I always had a huge thing for actress Shawnee Smith since I saw her in the genius that was The Blob remake when I was a kid back in 1988.
This is not Shawnee. But she brings back fond memories, and with a dash of Andie McDowell. Nice.
And he is classic Jerz Ooze. Creepy. Bubbly. With a vague scent of Aqua Velva mixing with week old sweatsock.
Breaking: Marissa Miller Turning into Douchebaguette
We’ve been tracking the celeb HCwDB pairing of Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model Marissa Miller and her husband, Ass Pimple, on the site for awhile now, as seen here, here and here.
This is a tragic warning as to what happens when hott commingles near faux-scrote for any extended length of time.
That being said, I’d brave the talons of a pen of hungry chickens in outer Montana just for the chance to briefly fondle the used kleenex left behind by her temperamental rural cousin, Gertrude.
