Reader Mail: Aussie Bags
douch-a-roo writes in from Australia:
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Gday mate,
Firstly I’m very impressed with the site. It gives me mixed feelings, it’s humourous, but it can also drive a man to hate. Most importantly, hcwdbs motivates me. It fills me with the ambition to be a better person and vaccinate against the douche virus that has infected western society.
The infiltration of American popular culture into Australian society has had both positive and negative effects:
Pros: Fast Food, Cartoons, Movies, Porno.
Cons: Douche.
As ‘douche’ takes grip in this most unlikely of places, a harsh frontier land founded by convicts, pirates and soldiers, its comforting for Australian men to know we’re not the only ones fighting this battle.
Hang tough,
douche-a-roo
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I’m happy to help in the fight, douche-a-roo, and feel like a Thunderdomed Mad Max enjoying a Fosters while Yahoo Serious tosses the corpse of the Croc Hunter into a giant swimming pool filled with Elle McPhersons. Or something like that.
But my favorite Aussie will forever be The Dingo, teenage partier with famous sunglasses.
Vin the Personal Trainer ™
Seeing Pink Pepper Best Friend of Your Sister Hott get mugged by Vin The Personal Trainer ™ is like having a conga line of anxiety ridden lemurs dance through your upper stomach area.
And yeah, maybe anxiety ridden conga dancing lemurs wasn’t the most linear analogy for the wrongness of this coupling, but yet it somehow seems apropos, no?
Friday Haiku
Nips perk like coffee,
Signifies viable womb,
Hairy Gnu claims “first.”
The nipped-out hott writhes
She is under my Douche spell
Chicks dig this jacket!
— maximus douchemus meridius
Amazing Kreskin
Taught this douchebag hypnosis
Young hott, be afraid!
— anonymous
Sir Mystereo
turns hypnotized hott into
ecstacy chicken
— johnny scrotten
Blinding jacket shines,
hott obviously in trance
Yuri strikes again…
— teh abominable snowdouche
His powers astound
Ventriloquist dummy hott
Sperm enter navel
— clementine of cappadoucha
sweat stained tee contest
winner hypnotized into
baguette ab reveal
— let it bleeth
Tim, The Cal-Tech Grad Student Who Doesn't Want You to Know It
It’s Tim, the Cal-Tech Grad Student Who Doesn’t Want You to Know It.
But we do know it, Tim. The rebellion thing just ain’t working out.
And is it just me, or is Ron Jeremy hiding out in the left arm sleeve tatt on Tim? Click on the pic for greater study.
I would play whiffle ball with plutonium laced cupcakes perched precariously over a vat of boiling engine oil just for the chance to fondle Bustier Hott’s used makeup Kleenex while being slapped repeatedly by an arthritic clown.
Raggedy Andy
When Kelly was a little girl, she always knew she’d grow up to find her real life Raggedy Andy.
Kelly’s mommy and daddy, however, have officially filed a complaint with Mattel.
HCwDB in the News
As you know, this is the first week of the book’s release, so your humble narrator on all things assy/greasy has been busy doing many radio interviews, including this morning on the Kevin & Bean show on KROQ.
I’m also prepping for my first signing/reading this Saturday, July 12th at 7pm at Book Soup in West Hollywood on Sunset.
There’s another signing scheduled in San Francisco at the Virgin Megastore in Union Square on July 27th at 4pm, and appearances in Boston and New York are being worked out for early August.
So if you can make it to any of these events, come buy the DB1 a HoHo, get a book signed, and listen to me expound on all things Boobie/Bodyspray.
Last night I was in studio on the Tim Conway Jr. radio show here in L.A., check out the audio. None other than the great Arsenio Hall was in-studio, and the moment when he gleefully observes “Donkey Douche” may be one of the highlights of my life.
My clip starts about ten minutes in, and listen all the way through for an Amazon Women on the Moon reference at the end. Because that movie rules.
Chad's Skull
For Chad Peterson Jr., nothing gets the ladies excited about his frosted tips on Spring Break quite like the Skull Shooter.
The Crotch Grabber
This douche might’ve gotten a pass for shirtless greasery, he is at the beach after all, but then there’s that headgear. That hair. That classic kissy-lips sneer. And that low hanging giganto-belt complete with self fondle.
You suck, Crotch Grabber.
The hott looks like Reese Witherspoon mated with an Olsen Twin. But she’s curvy and it’s Thursday morning. And he sucks rhesus monkey scrotum through a sippy cup straw.
So I’m going with it.
Wednesday Limerick
I’m deleting that last pic, “Save the Scrotes,” as that could’ve been an actual “special” kid. And I’m all about caring and sensitivity if the douchetards are actual tards.
Instead, here’s your Wednesday limerick:
A grease trucker in Vegas named Zack,
Thought chest tatts would make him The Mack,
He met French Veronique,
With boobs magnifique,
But she dumped him for smelling like Shaq.
Can you do better? Take a shot in the comments thread.
The 'Bag Headlock
We haven’t seen a classic ‘bag headlock in awhile, so I thought this one would do.
That slightly insecure forearm around the head of the girl that is meant to imply tough masculinity, but only conveys deep abiding nervousness that he’s going to lose her to the next dude who stumbles to the bar.
And you will, Punky McClean. You will lose her no matter how tightly you crush her head with your tatted up arm.
She may have a bit of that Jamie Lee Curtis androgyny sexiness, but I’m going with it.
On an unrelated note, check out the Scrotiest Video Since the ‘N Sync / Backstreet ‘Bag period of September, 2000, in which a poor black kid discovers he doesn’t need money to be happy, he only needs douchebags prancing on a beach. Warning: Not safe for cultural progression.
