HCwDB of the Week: The Canker Twins
In a tight race between The Canker Sores and the absurdist photographic art that is Still Life with Coors Light, the Canks pulled it out to take the weekly. It’s gotta be the hair. As arkansas dave douchebaugh explains:
Canker twins and trim are like a bad scene from Mad Max Beyond the Thunderdome. You know, the scene in the club with the bottles of Goose, clouds of axe spray and everybody was wearing fake contacts and cliche tattoos. The crowd was chanting “Two Douches enter, Canker Twins win!”
Beyond Thunderdome references always win. Pre-Jesus Mel Gibson. Good times.
I noted earlier that the only thing holding this pic back is the high Bleeth Factor in both of the former hotts. They are past the point of return, and even if boobie is still suckle thigh worthy, we must factor in the douchebaguette negatively when rating the pic. But let it bleeth explains why it’s still okay to vote Canker:
let’s literally face the situation at hand, all women pictured are bleeths, just a matter of what degree. because mindy and cindi are tougher than ther dates proves the canker twins claim the cheap but cherished atlantic city bordwalk gold necklaces for their weekly win.
Well put, LiB. But it’s still a vortex of wrong.
In second place, despite being a work of art, it seems the hott packin’ heat was too much for people to overlook in Still Life with Coors Light. clementine of cappadoucha decides to go with it:
Gotta go with Still Life. It is a chilling glimpse into the douche reich that we must all guard against. I am really, Really, REALLY disturbed by the hott’s codpiece, and really, Really REALLY distracted by her cleavage.
So are we all, CoC. And don explains why the power of the hott helps to form the concept of “douche” in casting a vote for the Preppy ‘Bag:
my vote goes for preppy. his hotty is HOT-T-T. i couldn’t give a crap about those other hotties, but she’s hot. if i saw her with him i’d think, “he’s a f@#king douchebag”. but, those other guys, i’d just think, “what f@#king losers”
It’s important for all of us to remember that the zen contradiction between boobie and choad is where truth is found. But Punky Douchester explains the win, and by win I mean fail:
Has to be the Cankers. Upon further inspection, I have to say, yes, these chicks are uber-Bleethed but they actually look like they *could* have been hot not that long ago. Yes, they are too far gone and even sharing the same room with them would require a spraying of Bactine, but you can see the ghost of hottness past if you inspect closely.
And Bill Doucheterive:
Canker Twins wins. So much scrote in one image, I’m surprised the camera was able to contain it all. The other two, after sifting through the archives, no longer fill me with shock and/or awe.
The Cankers may be a stronger entry in the Monthly than we think. Sure they’re going against newly minted Hall of Scrote winner Bra!!, but we’ve seen HoS members lose a Monthly before.
Anything can happen on Monday. And by anything, I mean simplex-C.
Give credit to the Canker Twins’ shaved heads and their Bleethed out hotts. This pic deserves recognition for all that is pooey.
Air Jordy
I’m almost inclined to give Jordy a nottadouche pass. But the tucked in jeans with hightops? Is that really necessary?
As to pale sultry curly brunette, Sara Hottowitz, I would take her for a ritual holy bath using only Sabbath candles, my own drool, a small sponge and a Romanian masseuse named Gastu to assist with the toweling.
By now, some of you may have noticed that Bra!! has made it into the hallowed Hall of Scrote. No need for a vote, any douche innovating a dual bicep tatt move, appearing shirtless in six different locations while rubbing his crotch into sorority hotts and enjoying a plethora of cola beverages, deserves honoring. And by honoring, I mean broheiming, bra.
But will he win the Monthly?
Ah. To answer that, will find out on Monday.
Where's Waldouche? Vegas Lineup Edition
Somewhere in this towel lineup of Vegas Tramp Hotts, I’ve carefully hidden a buffoonish Waldouche wearing my grammy Thelma’s sunglasses she got in Boca.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Tards 'R Us
I think it’s kind of sweet that Catherine spends her weekends helping out ‘tards down at the ‘Tard Center, ‘Tards ‘R Us.
I know I shouldn’t call them ‘tards. I should use words like “friends of the short bus,” or “intellectually challenged.”
But since I’d like to rub peanut butter on Catherine’s childhood teddy bear, Shmooky, before I beg her startled grandmother not to call the police, I’ll go with ‘tards.
Caption This Pic
Guillermo heard that if you suck out the poison from a herp sore it can help cure the infection.
Orange Color Space II
Nature of Orange: As a warm color, orange is a stimulant — stimulating the emotions and even the appetite. Orange can be found in nature in the changing leaves of fall, the setting sun, and the skin and meat of citrus fruit.
Because orange is also a citrus color, it can conjure up thoughts of vitamin C, good health, and oily Jersey douchescrotes.
Orange also has a goofy white sidekick named Ted.
The Grillzas
Lesser known trip-hop funk group The Grillzas take a break after opening for the Ratt/Poison tribute band Roison in Bismark, North Dakota.
You tools may be big in Belgium and France, but please leave the cheerleader alone.
Because I need to take her backstage, where I will paint her fingernails with sparkle and glitter while she complained about her older sister totally not giving her like a ride this morning, and then salivate on her kneecaps like a plug pulled quadriplegic.
Jiffy Lube
Watching the love-child of Matt Damon, Luis Guzman and a retro-Battlestar cylon mack on Hippie Mylie Cyrus by way of Diane Keaton’s wardrobe is enough to make Prince’s doves cry.
The previous pop-culture infused jam band sentence brought to you by Jiffy Lube.
Jiffy Lube. Why take your car anywhere else?
Yeah, I’m making no sense. But neither do their clothes. And sometimes the only rational response to an irrational world is a free plug for Jiffy Lube.
Cactus Pud
And while you’re mulling your vote in the Weekly, here’s a delicate, sweet, honeysuckle Desert Flower planted next to a smelly-ass Cactus Pud.
The good news is that the Cactus Pud only has to water his hair every six months. The bad news is his pits smell like a mixture of salmon, canola sunflower oil, and a Brazilian cabana hut used to store donkey ass.
Not even a rare appearance by Unambiquitous Blue Cup can save this unhealthy desert scene.
But note that Ubiquitous Red Cup waits in the background, watching ominously. Ubiquitous Red Cup knows what’s up.
Where's Bradouche?
Somewhere in this Spring Break cacaphony of bouncy state-schoolettes and Floridian beachdouche, I’ve carefully hidden Bra!!
Look closely. He’s switched from Coke and Pepsi to Dr. Pepper. Because bitches and cola are a way of life, but brand name loyalty is for sissies.
Can you find him?
