Samurai Scrote
Samurai Scrote needs no hand gestures to attract the hott.
Samurai Scrote needs no bottle of Grey Goose.
Samurai Scrote rejects outward signs of douchitude. Samurai Scrote is higher conscious douche. You will not know Samurai Scrote by his movements or actions. Only his mind power.
And his badass head band.
Cheez-Its and Red Bull
When mom and dad are away, the Kids will eat Cheez-Its and Red Bulls. It may not be the Oompa Prompa formal, but this is one after-prom party that smells like a job for Bod Man.
Speaking of the Prompas, reader Nick traces their family ancestry back to the 1920s, outside Philadelphia.
Wednesday Limerick
In clubland, two girls found a bottle,
They rubbed it and gave it a good throttle,
It summoned Douche Genie,
With hair like fettucini,
Who tried to get them to rub his little schwattle.
Purg Hottie Returns?
Long time readers of HCwDB will remember that last year I developed an unhealthy obsession with an utterly angelic ball of tiny brunette ambiguously librarian hott I dubbed “Purg Hottie.”
Purg Hottie earned her name for her angelic presence interlocked with club douche in a sort of bottle service purgatory between heaven and hell.
Purg Hottie was the rare hott indeed, able to attract numerous stage-4 uberdouches into her orbit, while seemingly unBleethed the entire time.
Witness the lineup of scrotes, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.
But is this P.H.?
Has she returned to haunt me with her naughty ruler spanking ways, all the while surrounded by club poo?
HCwDB of the Week: He Rides the Short Boat
A surprisingly even and robust discussion this week, with the quartet of drinkable boobs and singularity of punchable boatdouche just too strong for The Sad Clown and Douche Zak to overcome.
whoop-di-douche explains, with an absolutely genius sentence that makes me proud of this site:
Then there is Short Boat. Das Boot has so much boobie, so much smilin’ hott, and the jerkiest tongued douchebag, second only to Mooby, but with an even dumber bramble-tatt for a giant chieftain’s neacklace. All hail to the chief douche, Short Boat.
Now that’s mass culture reappropriation of language that I can get behind. We’ve made Levi-Strauss proud. Good luck, linguists of the distant future!!
adolf skroatler von baggenstein further elaborates:
Short boat makes me want to slap him up side his head with a boat anchor.
Yes. Yes he does. Ponderonymous agrees:
I’m going to have to give it to short boat. He manages to provide enough douchebaggery for every single one of those hotts, and for that kind of multiscroting, he deserves a weekly.
Heh, “multiscroting.” And rubber douchey:
ShortBoat. Grade-3 douchewad with 4 level-4 Bleethe. Toxic like Chernobyl drinking water, drawn straight from the reactor. Flies fall to the ground in their vacinity. They left a mile-wide slick behind them, and astronauts described a giant cock-n-balls reflecting from the general area of the AZ/CA border, pinpointed on Lake Havasu.
The regulars are bringing their A-Game this week. the motley douche continues:
Yay tho I walk through the valley of boatbag I shall lust after the hotts numbered 4 and mock that which is excessively scrotastic.
But the lone scroat makes the case for The Sad Clown, who came in a solid second:
The Sad Clown has it all. Mandana, hand gesture, bling, guyliner… wait. GUYLINER!? Ugh, it’s a mutated form, the EmoDouche. God help us. Sad Clown FTW.
I thought The Clown would get more love, and by love I mean rage, Lone Scroat. Alas, Guyliner just doesn’t piss people off like it used to. And that’s troubling. anonymous agrees:
The Sad Clown’s Douchery is epic the other two while total douche bags do not make me want to kill baby seals nearly as much as him. his Hott is very tasty too!
Yes. Yes she is. And owlish casts in for the Douche Zak:
If this were any other month than October i might have looked past Zak, but my tongue is just aching to (try to) refasten the errant button on St Pauli Girl hott’s silken uberhosen. Her eyes are just begging me to, and his eyes, well,his eyes speak of the torture it is to tear one’s eyes away from the Octoberfest that is her cleavage. He is sweating into his chinstrap at the effort to look into the camera, but he is douchee enough to pull it off. he sure will remember his first girl, and for that he should be rewarded. Zak ftw!
Well argued, Owl. Incidentally, “Zak” means “Bag” in Dutch. Too subtle, I know. But it made me laugh.
But steve zodiac explains why the Short Boat is too much to overcome:
Some of the dumbest tatts this side of Bra’s star. And the most retarded facial expression since Mooby Dick. This guy is a s@#tstain without a brain, and I like my turdles to be chatty thinking craplets. The kind that stand up in the drink and sing “MORE RAISINS! LOTS MORE RAISINS! MORE RAISINS THAN YOU HAVE EVER SEEN!!!” Yeah – you know – the brainy kind. Well, Boatbag here couldn’t find his own ass if it was nailed to his forehead. So, his scrotality approaches unity.
I’m putting “I like my turdles to be chatty thinking craplets” on a t-shirt, good work S.Z. And the everpresent anonymous brings it home:
Short Boat, easily…. The rage factor.. Look at that pic. Look. At. That. Pic. What a giant DB. He is DB of the Year material.
First, we’ll see if The Short Boat can bring his quartet of hott to a win next week in the Monthly. Competition will be tough. But for now, lets let the intellectually impaired bramble tatt doof enjoy his win, and let us first and foremost celebrate boobies. For they are plentiful.
Death, Taxes and Criss Angel
In a world of turmoil and change, of environmental chaos and an economy in crisis, it’s good to know that some things will always be there.
Grandma, sitting on the porch with a glass of lemonade.
Your dog, Rusty, wagging his tail, when you come home from a hard day of work.
And Criss Angel, leaving a trail of fungal doucheslime on all those within a three foot radius of his scrotal nest.
The Sweathog
Since we’re going with a bit of a pitstain theme today, and we haven’t had a porcelain doll of springy spongecake frosting on a plate at a birthday party hott, I thought Fariq and Caroline would make a nice pairing.
And by nice, I mean douche-face nastiness contrasting with soft, lower back embraceable cuddle joy.
She is pie. He is poo.
Ask DB1: "Bod Man"
Just Wantin’ to Know writes in:
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DB1,
there are so many different-scented versions of AXE spray on the market, which is the one worn by douchebags everywhere?
-Just Wantin’ to Know
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While there can and will be a larger discussion of ranking the different Axe Bodyspray products along the douchological spectrum, here’s a pic snapped by reader Coco after she inadvertently discovered she was dating a douche by opening his bathroom cabinet.
Yes, Bod Man is the name of the product. And the scent is called “Really Ripped Abs.”
Aisle Five "Cleaned Up"
After a lazy day spent wandering shirtless through Mexican bodegas, Aisle Five gets his stylin’ nightclub groovin’ on with Marion’s amulet from Raiders.
Caption This Pic
Little did Cheri know that while Anton loved him, himself and him, his sweat stain loved ice-cream.
