Scoliosis
Scoliosis is a medical condition in which a person’s spine is curved from side to side, and may also be rotated. On an x-ray, the spine of an individual with a typical scoliosis may look more like an “S” or a “C” than a straight line.
It is typically classified as congenital (caused by vertebral anomalies present at birth), idiopathic (sub-classified as infantile, juvenile, adolescent, or adult according to when onset occurred) or as having developed as a secondary symptom of another condition, such as cerebral palsy or spinal muscular doucheyness.
Young M.C. Escher
In case you ever wondered how Young M.C. Escher stores his alcohol when busting a move.
Jennifer Aniston Dating Mayerbag
People Magazine reports on Aniston dating Mayerbag, aka Lumbergh:
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Jennifer Aniston had a late private lunch with musician John Mayer in a Miami restaurant that opened Friday afternoon just for them, and then the couple spent a lengthy dinner together Friday night.
When it came to lunch, “I was happy to accommodate them,” says Charles Bell, general manager of Michael’s Genuine Food & Drink in the Miami Design District, which opened its doors for the pair early at 3:30 p.m. for the 90-minute meal.
Aniston, in Miami shooting the movie Marley & Me with Owen Wilson, ordered a chopped chicken salad, while Mayer had a Serrano ham sandwich which “Jen ate some of,” says Bell. For dessert, they shared a chocolate-and-peanut-butter layered treat.
Sitting across from each other in a booth, their heads were close together, and they were engaged in a private conversation, says Bell.
“I can’t speculate on what kind of meeting it was but they looked happy and seemed to have a great time,” he says.
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Sure, they shared a “chocolate-and-peanut-butter layered treat.” But did he show her his sleeve tatts and attempts to retroactively rewrite his musical legacy as something other than pop-pablum record label corporate designed genericism?
Crop Head
No More Brothabag Leon
Whiny Beyoch writes in:
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You have taken a picture that belongs to my company and events, please take “Brothabag Leon” down immediately or further action will be taken. Thank you!!!!
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And here I was trying to do my part to prove that douchebaggery cuts across all racial and ethnic lines.
Ya know, you try to do a good deed, you try to advance the cause of human rights and equal opportunity mocking of douchescrotery, and this is the thanks you get.
HCwDB of the Week
So your humble commentator on all things curvy/Preparation-H, The DB1, is in New York.
I’m reviewing the first hot off the presses copies of my book, and it looks amazing. Full color, 90% all new pics, and the design team did an amazing job. A coffee table memento of our cultural pushback against the douchescrote. Buy your copy here, and yes there will be more shameless pimping to come.
I’m also planning the book party in Las Vegas on July 19th, as well as some book signings where you can come out and see if the Ab Lobster shows up to kick my ass.
Rare are the weekend pics that make the finals, but this weekend we have not one, but two, that are worthy.
When we return to the core of wrongness that defines this site, is not everything encapsulated in this one pic?
A lineup of hotts vying for attention from four heaping piles of douchescrote.
It’s enough to inspire the adult version of “Lady in the Water,” by M. Night Schlongalyan. Yeah, I just came up with that. I need a coffee.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Big Head / Lil’ Head
Even as I wrote yesterday’s masterful one-act play that evoked the pathos of early Sam Shepherd by way of the surrealism of Richard Foreman and the angst of Neil LaBute, Big Head / Lil’ Head, I don’t think I fully appreciated the wrongness of this pic.
Grillz.
Seriously, kids. Grillz.
Who the hell invented Grillz?
And while some may argue I’m objectifying women by lusting after a girl who is clearly Bleethed to the point of no return, I say to my critics, objectify? Did we objectify when the Nazis bombed Pearl Harbor?
Or something like that.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Metaphysical Hooligan
When the week began, we thought this coupling was a slam-dunk Weekly winner, and possibly a dominant Monthly as well.
Those odds are still in place, but there is tough competition.
Still, it’s hard to find a more punchable douche-mug than the Hooligan’s sneery face.
And Italian Pastry Hott is all that is cannoli of Venice.
And to whomever observed that Bra’s Star Tatt seems to have migrated to the Hooligan’s hair deserves a Douchie Award in December. Nice catch.
Dishonorable mention to The Swallows, who just missed the cut due to a little too much inflation on the hott.
But them’s your three, and only one coupling of wrongness may triumph.
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
Big Head / Lil' Head
Welcome to the first installment of Big Head / Lil’ Head, where the heads collide over the wrongness of a Hottie/Douchey pic:
Lil’ Head: Boobies!!
Big Head: C’mon, Lil’ Head, there are no reeming qualities to this hott. Look at the giant turd floating in front of her!
Lil’ Head: I don’t care. I see boobies and I want boobies. Boobies!!
Big Head: He’s got “grillz,” lil’ head!! Surely the company she keeps reflects on her relative worth as a viable sexual partner.
Lil’ Head: Shut the hell up Big Head and go get me a chicken pot pie. I’m starin’ at boobies. And suckle worthy thighs.
Big Head: Alls I’m saying lil’ head is that your desire for the curvy thigh keeps getting us in trouble!
Lil’ Head: That’s not my problem, Big Head. That’s for you to figure out.
Big Head: Which is why I’m explaining that her choice in tatted up hand gesturing grillz wearing freakdouche should be enough to at least temper your desire for the humpity hump.
Lil’ Head: You don’t get out much, do you?
Big Head: I get out as much as you do, we’re the same person.
Lil’ Head: No we aren’t. If we were, you’d want to nuzzle in the boobie hills and smack the douche with a soggy rye.
Big Head: I do. I’m just trying to show you that the boobie hotts often devalue themselves by cohabitating with douchewank. This should affect your desire.
Lil’ Head: Well it don’t. Now shut your gob, I want the flesh pillows, and her two best friends, Kimmy and Kelly!!
Big Head: (sigh)
and…. scene.
Yasmine Bleeth Turns 40
Happy birthday, gorgeous.
Butterday Night Fever
Butt soft, what ass through yonder window breaks?
Oh glutteous maximus buttocks of butt crunching delight. How dost though line up in front of so greasy a group of choadbuckets?
Six glorious butts.
Four greasy bungs.
Twelve award winning cheeks.
Four muscle bound freaks.
I would partake of those Butts I Am.
I’ve gone from Shakespeare riffs to Dr. Suess rhymes, all in less time then it would take me to hop across those butts like James Bond escaping from the crocodile pit in Live and Let Die.
Friday Attic Cleaning
Random assorted pics that didn’t get a fully entry, as I clean out the digital attic on this Friday afternoon:
Brothabag Leon goes for a drive, all by his lonesome self, with only his new facial patterns to comfort him.
Facebook Poet He’s Alwayz Down For Wuteva gets his groove on in Wood Paneling White-Trashdom.
William Scrotespeare’s As You Spike It finds another Lady MacBeth.
The Gator ditches the chicks and finds love.
And then there’s the luckiest dude with a girl next door hott I’ve seen in weeks. I couldn’t even run ‘Bag / Not a ‘Bag on that guy. Instead, I just want to buy him a beer.
Speaking of beer, it’s time to crack open a PBR, toast all of you for joining me on this week’s journey, give props to all who submitted, and sail on into the Friday Evening blood red sunset like a 19th Century pirate vessel on the pixelated digital highway…
