Nipsy's Bitchez
Caption This Pic
How do you make “The Shocker” again?
Brothabag Union 112
Here’s Brothabag Union 112, on their coffee break, busy posing “gangsta” for the camera while a poor little slice of warm Chocolate Luv gets ignored in the background.
From left to right, Reggie Bush ‘Bag, Tracy Jordan ‘Bag and, at the bottom, Kadeen Hardison’s stand-in from season #2 of A Different World.
Behind them, The Rodriguez Brothers from Repo Man.
Because, like Miller says, the Lattice of Coincidence means the UFOs are really time machines.
Come to me, Chocolate Luv. I will treat you with the adulation you deserve, my nubian princess Aida. We will sing Disney sanctified songs of love, with proper merchandising tie-ins, in front of fat tourists, and then, back in the green room, I would lick your kneecaps while juggling retarded ferrets and a large vibrating egg.
Ask DB1: The 'Hawk
I am Jack’s Scrotal Anxiety writes in:
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Dear DB1,
Here’s a question that’s been bugging me ever since I started my path towards ‘bag enlightenment. Regarding the mohawk, where can a line be drawn between its heritage as a symbol of punk culture and its now common appearances as douchebag acoutrement?
Some of my dearest friends sport the ‘hawk, and they’re as far removed from douchebaggery as they come. I guess what I’m actually asking is this: if we let the scrotes reappropriate those symbols that some of us hold dear to our hearts, aren’t we just forfeiting to the ‘bags?
Thanks for your support in these dreadful times,
I Am Jack’s Scrotal Anxiety
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This is a complex problem, with no easy answer, IAJSA. Since the ‘Hawk was once the province of punk aesthetic, it has roots in authentic counter-culture resonance (unlike, say, the “Kissy Lips”).
That being said, the plethora of fauxhawk and gelled up mohawks on suburban choadwanks have rendered its display fully enrolled at Summer Camp Douche.
As Dick Hebdige notes in his seminal book Subculture: The Meaning of Style, the absorption and reappropriation of counter-culture as a product by the market system represents the exertion of power structure within larger systems of control. All market based societies must rebrand and repackage that which it cannot control. This is inevitable.
In other words, there is no going back. The mohawk is an addouchrement, no different than A/X and D&G.
But this is not to say it can’t be reclaimed. Only that, as with any subculture movement reappropriated by mainstream, extraction from the entanglement of historical forces will be difficult.
And boobies.
Cro Booknan
A special tip of the Ubiquitous Red Cup to all who showed up at the Cutting Room last night for the reading. The turnout was overwhelming and it was a thrill to meet everyone and see the ‘bag hunting movement grow.
Also special thanks to Cro ‘Bagnon, who did not show up to snap my spine like a fetid tree branch from the crackling underbrush of the Serengeti.
Afterwards, as I walked home, I wandered into the Virgin Megastore on 14th Street and Broadway, only to be greeted by the following. The only way the night could’ve ended better would be if Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis and Bailey Quarters had shown up in librarian glasses to pelt my lower thigh area with crumbled Trader Joes Joe-Joes. It’s kinda hard to explain that fantasy, but it also involves a pogo stick, a gallon of chicken fat and a large Japanese wrestler named “Ugetsu”.
Speaking of the book, if you haven’t bought the book yet, isn’t now a good time to buy the book?
Book.
O-Prune
O-Prune, aka “The Orange Prune,” has no need for your admiration.
O-Prune cares not if you admire the cut of his jib or take umbrage at his stomach folds.
O-Prune dances to the beat of his own synthesized drum sample.
The ladies giggle in the presence of O-Prune’s orange chest reveals and stubbly kissylips. And O-Prune knows what only O-Prune knows. That O-Prune is the Orange Prune. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
Well there is one thing.
You can mock his douchey-ass.
The Hourglass and the Beachbag
‘Bag Hunting Rule of Thumb: Hair spike at the beach = uberchoad.
She redefines “hourglass” for the new millennium.
Not since Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s 14th Century painting, Allegory of Good Government has the hourglass functioned as metaphor for societal hope, good will, and really fantastic tatines dipped in butter.
DJ Dave Wants a Sweat Girl
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yo yo wadd up wad up…..my name is dave aka dj dave cue… i no most people know me and talk shyt about me because there all haters… i am a dj and i am a resident in many parties that clubhardnyc runs thats the main part… I want a very nice and sweat girl who knows how to treat a boy right… . many girls say they do but there just a waste of my time
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What people don’t understand is that guys like DJ Dave and He Just Bangs Bitches and Drinks really aren’t all hard gangsta playahs all the time.
Deep down, they really just want a sweat girl.
Orange Chicken
When not busy mugging a curvy beach volleyball player from Redondo Beach, Lyle Lovett Orange Chicken Douche knows who he’s voting for in the Weekly.
Do you?
HCwDB of the Week
It is a week of smelly seafood crusted hair gel and too much Drakkar Noir commingling with the lusty form of female youth and healthy womb that inspires hope in our collective life journeys. Within this dialectic, between boobie and greasy, we find enlightenment.
I dedicate this greasy selection of soul-crushing uberdouchery in the presence of the boobie hottie suckle thigh to the legendary vision of Fish Slap, who (dis)graced us with his presence on Saturday.
But lest your humble narrator continues to ramble, here’s your finalists:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Squidward
Okay, so maybe the Spongebob character has more of a theoretical relationship to this choad than an actual physical resemblance, you be the judge.
For Squidward, the grease factor is off the charts. All you have to do is compare it to the taut, soft, yet spongy, yet lightly cocoa buttery butter rub belly on Janice, and you’ll…
I, uhm, lost my train of thought.
And yes, Janice may have had “enhancements” to her curve. And while I normally take aesthetic umbrage to the need for females to add artificial implants to their form, in this case I will make an exception.
By which I mean I would rub melted brie cheese left in the sun for four months on a toxic decaying alien inside the truck of a Chevy Malibu just for the chance to pass within ten feet of her plastic surgeon at an insurance seminar in Biloxi.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Velco Flabulous
Velcro Flabulous and Swedish Death Hottle have all the makings of a classic HCwDB atomic meltdown.
The flaccid douche in the presence of curvy lickable perfection. The Pokey Little Puppy underwear. The stupid hair and sunglasses. Velco sneakers at a pool party.
And that Swedish square chinned Nordic beauty in tighty mini-hot-pants that would make Himmler swoon with anticipation of procreation for the good of the Reich. She is delightful.
But then we have one potent wildcard in this pic: None other than Donkey Douche. In the background.
Has a Weekly pic ever won based on having a hallowed Hall of Scrote member in the background?
It’s like getting Michael Jordan to be your backup point guard. It’s like casting Salma Hayek as an extra in a Russ Meyer film, but keeping her clothed.
It’s like… another analogy where someone with prodigious talents isn’t the focus.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Crapser the Douchey Ghost
The third strong finalist in this group. Crapser brings the creepy, disturbing rocker douche to the fore of our discussion.
And let us not underestimate Carmelita’s hotness. I heard some complaints in the comments thread that she is not hot. Lets set the record straight right now. Just because she is not Nordic Blonde does not diminish the severity with which I would nibble on that shoulder for a month straight until I grew delirious from malnutrition.
She has skin of golden hue, and an ass that ain’t no donkey.
He is a roly poly ball of translucent ghost-like Amish Scrote.
But does Crapser have enough to take down Velcro and Squidward?
Did that last sentence contain enough actual words to constitute a sentence according to grammar laws?
I know not the answers to these queries. I know only that three hottie/douchey couples enter, but only one can triumph. That, fellow ‘bag hunters, is up to you. Who will win? And by win, I mean we all lose.
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
