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HCwDB of the Month: Jebus, Mary and Broseph
In a close runoff vote with The ‘Baggle Axe, the regs voted for the pun-filled Eurodouchery crypto gaybaggery of the Jebus and Mary Stain. And the The Semen on the Mount. And Creepy Euro gaybaggery.
The voters speak:
boatbutter: Jesus will forsake Jebus and so do I.
Douchelips: Jebus, Mary and Broseph for the win! (loss). They are epic douchebaggery. First century shirtless posing, hand gestures and a series of remarkably disturbing pictures. I would ride a donkey through the wilderness, sleeping in straw covered haystacks just for the chance to kick Jebus is the daddy long-legs.
Bob Mcadouche: Jebus. If god sent this douche to die for our sins, then ill take purgatory instead.
douche bagel: automatic jeebus for the win. never has anyone induced punch reflex quite like the jeebs
Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche: It is said that he once cured a ham. There have been reports that he turned ordinary wine into urine. His powers have reached down into all of us by turning our perfectly good food into vomit. He has even cast a veil upon our eyes to question his sexuality at times. How does he do all this? Because he is the chosen one.
Poultry Turd: When faced with life’s difficult decisions, it’s best to seek guidance from above. So, I asked the dude that lives in the apartment above mine, and his reply came down: “In the name of his father, the sun and the holy scrote, choose Jebus.”
soy bomb: If I ever saw this guy in public my first thought would be “Douchebag”, my second thought would be “why am I in this crack-den? Where’s the exit?” Then I would see Mary and remember why I slimed my way into the hell-hole in the first place. I was stalking her. Oh heavily-medicated Mary, won’t you let me hail you?
Wheezer: Verily, thou must remember the time of the Douchies, and that is the time of the Shavior. Mayhap only the Emost High Jebus and His Doucheciples wilt withstand the otherwise certain final victory of the one called Shathouse. Thou shalt have no other Scrote Gods before Him; Jebus is Risen!…..as has His personal bodily aroma.
Bag Margera: I’m not really religious or anything, but using religion to bag gorgeous Mary hotts, burns me up like a witch in Salem. Jebus FTW, and by W, I mean the Passion of Mel Gibson .
The Reverend Chad Kroeger: Jebus for the sin. Mary wails at the temple and God weeps for the children.
Douche Boyardee’s Cheese and Bagaroni:Something tells me if I drank Jebus’s Holy Water it would turn my intestines into a log flume.
Plowboy: Sure, we see plenty of steroidal, tattooed, Ed Hardy-wearing scrotum-poles, but Jebus has left behind all these earthly delights to form a whole new chapter of douchiness. This is where the devolutionary ladder forks, and we can expect to see more clowns like this to be spawned in the months to come…
Creature: Jebus… for he can do miracles… when he touches his cockk it turns to stone, marble to be precise, which impresses the ladies, until he touches it to them & it turns to linguine… wet slimey linguine
justadouchalo: I am currently seeking papal dispensation to hunt down and kill Jebus but, until I get word from the Vatican, off to the yearly he goes.
smackdouche: Jebus: (humbly,quietly) I want them to vote for the most deserving. Mary: (commanding) JEBUS REQUIRES YOUR VOTES!!! CAST THEM NOW!!! Who am I to contradict Jebus and Mary?
Fyodor Dostedouchesky:Jebus for the monthly and hopefully a nailing to a cross.
Justin: Jebus may be gay, but his outlandish, unrelenting level of douche-traits and searing hotts makes him the best candidate for crucifixion. Nail him up!
dbBen: He tells the hotts that he’s Chaldean. It’s just familiar enough to be mysterious. And because they buy it, it makes me want to sucker punch a land-mine.
As Peter, Paul, Randy, Geranium and the rest of the Jackson Five Disciples once observed, gay or simply asexual like his namesake, Jebus is the only path to pure douchescrote. But a close second, The ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa sisters:
Professor ‘Baglioni: Why ‘Baggle Axe? He’s wearing a metallic helmet (the aviators, shoulder tatt, and leather pants don’t help either.) And the Marissa sisters (particularly the one to the far right) are charming in that girl-next-door sort of way.
Et Tu Douche?: Me thinks he’s PTP but none the less he is Douche. He was probably drinking a protein shake, after having gotten back from the Jim Naseum when his fellow unemployed Chippendale Bro Christian called to tell him “Hey I know this isn’t the big leagues like we were used to but I found you a gig, and at $50 and free finger food, it’s a no brainer. All you have to do is show up at this bachelorette party, at the Holiday Inn Monroeville as a gladiator”.
armydouche: With deep thought and much inward contemplation, by which i mean gouging my eyes with a spoon, I cast my vote for baggle ax. For only he has the unholy leather pants of GSR, the shoulder tat of douchitude and an enchanted golden helmet. He’s gotta get bonus points for that helmet….
Douchey Lewis and the News:GSR, check. Strange tat, check. Tight leather pants with large belt buckle, check. Golden pith helmet, check.
Amerigo Vesdouchey: I must cast in for the ‘Baggle Axe and explain why. He is tainting the lovely Marissa #2 in the middle. Luckily, M2 is well grounded and will survive a few moments of axeposure, but the ‘Baggle Axe’s brazen efforts to taint the sentient Marissas will be rewarded with my vote.
Peter Ilyich Doucheovsky: Leather pants? Check. GSR? Check. Obnoxious tattoo of what appears to be either a Roman Centurion or a toilet brush? Check. Gnawable Amanda Bynes hott on his right? Check times three.
Troy Tempest: I go with Baggle Axe. His baggery is excessive, and while the Marissa sisters aren’t classic hotties, they are all sweet and attractive young women who have no business being in the same zip code as Baggle Axe. Baggle Axe is exactly what we must stop with this website – stop the advance of mindless baggery that is infecting sweet young things like the Marissa sisters.
Wedgie: Baggle Axe. Anyone with enough stones to wear the same battle helmet the flying monkeys wore in Flash Gordon deserves some props.
Well done, jackass.
The ‘Baggle Axe nearly pulled it out, but the power of Crust compels us. In third place, the real world putzitude of Smugger John and Valencia:
Medusa Oblongata: Smugger is just a slovenly plastic bag full of cream cheese. The only thing worse than a douchebag is a lazy douchebag. And I’d venture a guess that Valencia goes both ways. I gotta chance! Smugger John FTW.
I R A Darth Aggie: Smugger John FTW ’cause Valencia has the least amount of clothing.
End the Haberdouchery: My vote goes to Smugger John and Valencia. The weakest douche of the bunch, but the hottest hott. And isn’t mocking douchery in the presence of hott what we’re all about here? Sure he’s not slathered in Preparation H, but he is choad nonetheless.
Mr. Scrotato Head: Because Smugger John’s neck tatt says “Chop Here”, he gets my vote in the monthly.
And in a solid but distant fourth place, our Canadian Superdouche Posse and Slutty Hott Kimberly, The Mountinis:
Battlescrote Gallactica: A super nova of tribal tats on tanned, roided skin, ultra-gay hair, a six pound watch, Afflictionish shirts, women’s sunglasses, bling chains and fake diamond earrings send these two tools straight into the Douche Stratosphere.
Indiana Choad and the Temple of Douche: I must go with the Mountinis, for they have brought shame and disgrace to my nation’s flag. All the others are worthy choads, but only one has smeared their filth across an entire nation.
Sack O Douche: Kimberly sticks it out like a champion slut. And I thank her for that. The Canadian Bro Bags are all confused with the tough guy/metro/gay/ roid bag look. I like it so much I say congrats you Canadian taints!
RAPETIME: . F@ck you, Canada. I thought you were cool, man. Plus that Kimberly has one fine bumper.
Sir David Douchenborough: No, as much as it shames me, the Moutinis, with their Hindenmoobs, represent the best example of “Run-audiger selection” in that all of their features demonstrably reveal that they are so disconnected with the actual consequences of their bag traits that they genuinely believe that this somehow enhances their standing and competitive advantage.
Indeed, Canada has let us down. But this is Jebus Christ Doucherstar’s time to shine. And by shine, I mean flush. Lets let Baleen take us home:
Finding it difficult to decide among our contestants, I ventured to the bathroom to take a shit. I thus employed an old ritual taught to me by the bag hunters of old. I examined the brown offering in the ceramic bowl. It had a silt like appearance and pungent yet fresh aroma. Very smooth, very noxious. By divination of my poo, I choose Jebus ftw.
The Divination of Baleen’s Poo is enough to settle this one. We’ll see Jebus and Mary in the Yearly. And the DB1 flies back to Los Angeles.
HCwDB of the Week: The 'Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters
In the first real HCwDB of the Week upset of the summer, the Stars (Starry Blight and Starhawk) split the vote like Joan Plowright and Vanessa Redgrave at the ’92 Oscars, allowing the Groin Shave Revealing toxicity of the ‘Baggle Axe and real world hottness of the Marissa Sisters (yet more ’92 Oscars parallel) to take the prize.
The voters speak:
melvil duchi: The ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters. Shoulder tattoo? – check. aviator sunglasses worn inside? – check. gold helmet? – check. huge belt buckle? – check. leather pants? – check. GSR?- check. run, Marissa Sisters, run
Dicy: Get away sweet Marissa sisters before you loose your modest and flirty fashion sense and wind up looking like Hello Kat, yuck! Did I mention GSR and sunglasses inside? Whatta douche.
Et Tu Douche?: The Marissa’s, specifically the one in the middle, are Hott in a naive kind of way. The Baggle Axe is Douche in a gladiator/300 way which make him even more disturbing.
Douchelips: Those sisters are real and many of you would tag them if you had the chance. So hotts they are. The ‘Baggle Axe, has a ridiculous helmet, disgusting abs, the dreaded 2010 ‘bag move of the year: the GSR, and a stupid tatt.
justadouchalo: Hands down, Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters for the win. Rename the site “Skanks with Douchebags” and I’ll reconsider, but that’s a whole other can of worms, and by ‘can of worms’ I mean the can of worms that Kat is fixing (we say fixing in Kentucky) to scratch out of her bikini.
Business-Casual Douche: The baggle axe represents the unbridled masculine ego–the Y chromosome manifest, if you will. He is like Daniel Plainview from “There Will Be Blood”, but without capitalistic aspirations, or a mustache.
Fatness: Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters. Marissa #3 wants to do things her father will never find out about. To me.
Bagnonymous: I vote the ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters in the hopes that they may be saved by extensive mocking. And by my penis.
Poultry Turd: condemn Baggle Axe for stealing Great Grandpa’s treasured WWII helmet out of the attic and spray-bombing it with a can of gold DuPont paint.
Medusa Oblongata: Their natural, modest, midwestern bodies stand in appalling contrast to his manorexic, overflexed, GSRd display of absurdness. You can do better, Marissa sisters. Leave this one to troll for herp-infested gash at the Rehab pool.
Douchè said: No, Mr. Axe. This is NOT Sparta.
Lady Godiva’s Piebald: the baggle axe is every bit the damnable douche, and the women he’s with might still actually do things with men without the exchange of currency or gifts being involved or implied. this rates him an order of magnitude more douchey than the starry slurry above.
dbBen: It just seems like this is where it all begins from the hott’s perspective. The Marissa sisters take a trip to Las Vegas, go to some crass show that has “thrust” written in a $35 font, take a picture with The ‘Baggle Axe, go home to Connecticut and start a positive feedback loop with some stage 1 baggling ultimately producing the heir to Donkey Lips.
I’m definitely surprised that the semi-costumed ‘Baggle Axe overtook the bucktoothed pinkshirtitudes and trashy hottitudes of both the Starhawk and Starry Blights. But perhaps it was real world hottie/douchey dialectic that triumphed over Vegas spectacle. That and toxic groin shave reveal. Coming in second, Starry Blight:
douche bagel: starhawk is harmless douche. baggle axe is very annoying douche. starry blight gives me reflex to punch computer and injure a small animal.
Tony Ventresca: Pneumatic Pink Bikini’s massive pneumatic chest pimples tip the scales in favour of #2. Therefore, #2 for the win.
Chris in ‘Baghdad: Her bleethed out vapid look complements nicey King of Sears’ pudly arrogrance. His fake dogtag/razor blade bling sets off a perfect douchecolletage.
Shish_kebag: The starry blight for the win and by win I mean mocking him until he cries himself to sleep for three days. That crown tattoo strongly resembles a delicaressen restaurant we have here in Quebec. And for the Hello Kat I think the name should have been the Shallow Kat, but hey who am I to critisize the names.
Disconnected: Starry Blight it has to be. Surely he is a secret priest of Chtulu, wearing the star on his head so that he can be part of that final alignment which awakens the dread god from his deep slumber at the bottom of the ocean…
End the Haberdouchery: The Starry Blight. I have to figure out why someone would tattoo “Shart” on their chest. I bet Kat’s snatch has had more sausages running around in it than Miller Park during the sixth inning sausage races. Shart and Kat FTW, and always bet on bratwurst.
Eliza Douchecoo: The King of Sears should win the weekly for being a a huge douche with stupid swim trunks, stupid tattoos, stupid spikey hair and ridiculous (stupid) sunglasses.
Colossus of Choads: Gotta be Starry Blight. Stop radiating that ‘tude man, just because someone said you were “good looking” once.
The Blight is toxic, well argued. Just not toxic enough to create douche aura. And barely coming in third, just one push away from second or even first place, the surprisingly underachieving Starhawk:
Battlescrote Gallactica: The Starhawk for the win…. He is to douchery what Ron Popeil is to infomercials. “Set it and forget it!”
ehcuodouche: Starhawk. I vote for anyone who stains quartasian hottness with the stench of axe and taint. Despite hours practising his signage, hawk remains as gangster as Gomer Pyle.
opie sardonicus: Oh, for a woodburning kit and time enough to burn Starhawk’s concentric constellation permanently into his pointy li’l head. Just the smell makes me giddy.
Justin: Starhawk’s face is too punchable for words. I gotta vote, as usual, for the high level of punchability.
Tall Guy: Baggle Axe’s groin shave reveal deserves a mention. As does The King of Sears’ look of superiority. But Starhawk, in an effort to elevate his whiney sneering presence to a higher state of being, takes such a comprehensive each way bet with his use of accessories that I am forced to cast my vote in his direction – in lieu of a large, glass-encrusted stone.
Starhawk didn’t win because he didn’t bring the innocent hotts the way the ‘Baggle Axe did. Lets turn it over to Hall of Mock veteran Troy Tempest to take us home:
Baggle Axe is every bit the ‘nozzle the other two are. He is a roided out greased up retarded boob surrounded by perfectly reasonable and sweet young women. The amount of contrast in this picture makes ET and Tyler look like blood brothers. Every time someone looks at this picture, a flock of morning doves flies into a woodchipper out of shame for living in the universe where this could happen.
Indeed, many doves have been woodchipped due to the ‘Baggle Axe’s G.S.R. So the ‘Baggle and the Marissas for the Monthly, and the DB1 for peppermint tea due to a hangover.
HCwDB of the Week: The ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters
In the first real HCwDB of the Week upset of the summer, the Stars (Starry Blight and Starhawk) split the vote like Joan Plowright and Vanessa Redgrave at the ’92 Oscars, allowing the Groin Shave Revealing toxicity of the ‘Baggle Axe and real world hottness of the Marissa Sisters (yet more ’92 Oscars parallel) to take the prize.
The voters speak:
melvil duchi: The ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters. Shoulder tattoo? – check. aviator sunglasses worn inside? – check. gold helmet? – check. huge belt buckle? – check. leather pants? – check. GSR?- check. run, Marissa Sisters, run
Dicy: Get away sweet Marissa sisters before you loose your modest and flirty fashion sense and wind up looking like Hello Kat, yuck! Did I mention GSR and sunglasses inside? Whatta douche.
Et Tu Douche?: The Marissa’s, specifically the one in the middle, are Hott in a naive kind of way. The Baggle Axe is Douche in a gladiator/300 way which make him even more disturbing.
Douchelips: Those sisters are real and many of you would tag them if you had the chance. So hotts they are. The ‘Baggle Axe, has a ridiculous helmet, disgusting abs, the dreaded 2010 ‘bag move of the year: the GSR, and a stupid tatt.
justadouchalo: Hands down, Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters for the win. Rename the site “Skanks with Douchebags” and I’ll reconsider, but that’s a whole other can of worms, and by ‘can of worms’ I mean the can of worms that Kat is fixing (we say fixing in Kentucky) to scratch out of her bikini.
Business-Casual Douche: The baggle axe represents the unbridled masculine ego–the Y chromosome manifest, if you will. He is like Daniel Plainview from “There Will Be Blood”, but without capitalistic aspirations, or a mustache.
Fatness: Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters. Marissa #3 wants to do things her father will never find out about. To me.
Bagnonymous: I vote the ‘Baggle Axe and the Marissa Sisters in the hopes that they may be saved by extensive mocking. And by my penis.
Poultry Turd: condemn Baggle Axe for stealing Great Grandpa’s treasured WWII helmet out of the attic and spray-bombing it with a can of gold DuPont paint.
Medusa Oblongata: Their natural, modest, midwestern bodies stand in appalling contrast to his manorexic, overflexed, GSRd display of absurdness. You can do better, Marissa sisters. Leave this one to troll for herp-infested gash at the Rehab pool.
Douchè said: No, Mr. Axe. This is NOT Sparta.
Lady Godiva’s Piebald: the baggle axe is every bit the damnable douche, and the women he’s with might still actually do things with men without the exchange of currency or gifts being involved or implied. this rates him an order of magnitude more douchey than the starry slurry above.
dbBen: It just seems like this is where it all begins from the hott’s perspective. The Marissa sisters take a trip to Las Vegas, go to some crass show that has “thrust” written in a $35 font, take a picture with The ‘Baggle Axe, go home to Connecticut and start a positive feedback loop with some stage 1 baggling ultimately producing the heir to Donkey Lips.
I’m definitely surprised that the semi-costumed ‘Baggle Axe overtook the bucktoothed pinkshirtitudes and trashy hottitudes of both the Starhawk and Starry Blights. But perhaps it was real world hottie/douchey dialectic that triumphed over Vegas spectacle. That and toxic groin shave reveal. Coming in second, Starry Blight:
douche bagel: starhawk is harmless douche. baggle axe is very annoying douche. starry blight gives me reflex to punch computer and injure a small animal.
Tony Ventresca: Pneumatic Pink Bikini’s massive pneumatic chest pimples tip the scales in favour of #2. Therefore, #2 for the win.
Chris in ‘Baghdad: Her bleethed out vapid look complements nicey King of Sears’ pudly arrogrance. His fake dogtag/razor blade bling sets off a perfect douchecolletage.
Shish_kebag: The starry blight for the win and by win I mean mocking him until he cries himself to sleep for three days. That crown tattoo strongly resembles a delicaressen restaurant we have here in Quebec. And for the Hello Kat I think the name should have been the Shallow Kat, but hey who am I to critisize the names.
Disconnected: Starry Blight it has to be. Surely he is a secret priest of Chtulu, wearing the star on his head so that he can be part of that final alignment which awakens the dread god from his deep slumber at the bottom of the ocean…
End the Haberdouchery: The Starry Blight. I have to figure out why someone would tattoo “Shart” on their chest. I bet Kat’s snatch has had more sausages running around in it than Miller Park during the sixth inning sausage races. Shart and Kat FTW, and always bet on bratwurst.
Eliza Douchecoo: The King of Sears should win the weekly for being a a huge douche with stupid swim trunks, stupid tattoos, stupid spikey hair and ridiculous (stupid) sunglasses.
Colossus of Choads: Gotta be Starry Blight. Stop radiating that ‘tude man, just because someone said you were “good looking” once.
The Blight is toxic, well argued. Just not toxic enough to create douche aura. And barely coming in third, just one push away from second or even first place, the surprisingly underachieving Starhawk:
Battlescrote Gallactica: The Starhawk for the win…. He is to douchery what Ron Popeil is to infomercials. “Set it and forget it!”
ehcuodouche: Starhawk. I vote for anyone who stains quartasian hottness with the stench of axe and taint. Despite hours practising his signage, hawk remains as gangster as Gomer Pyle.
opie sardonicus: Oh, for a woodburning kit and time enough to burn Starhawk’s concentric constellation permanently into his pointy li’l head. Just the smell makes me giddy.
Justin: Starhawk’s face is too punchable for words. I gotta vote, as usual, for the high level of punchability.
Tall Guy: Baggle Axe’s groin shave reveal deserves a mention. As does The King of Sears’ look of superiority. But Starhawk, in an effort to elevate his whiney sneering presence to a higher state of being, takes such a comprehensive each way bet with his use of accessories that I am forced to cast my vote in his direction – in lieu of a large, glass-encrusted stone.
Starhawk didn’t win because he didn’t bring the innocent hotts the way the ‘Baggle Axe did. Lets turn it over to Hall of Mock veteran Troy Tempest to take us home:
Baggle Axe is every bit the ‘nozzle the other two are. He is a roided out greased up retarded boob surrounded by perfectly reasonable and sweet young women. The amount of contrast in this picture makes ET and Tyler look like blood brothers. Every time someone looks at this picture, a flock of morning doves flies into a woodchipper out of shame for living in the universe where this could happen.
Indeed, many doves have been woodchipped due to the ‘Baggle Axe’s G.S.R. So the ‘Baggle and the Marissas for the Monthly, and the DB1 for peppermint tea due to a hangover.
HCwDB of the Week: Jebus, Mary and Broseph
In a tight race with Muggy and Rosalyn’s Rosalyns, The Passion of the Crust just barely took the prize. And lets not forget pics #2 and #3, The Jebus and Mary Stain, and The Semen on the Mount.
The voters speak:
Douche Springsteen: Jebus, Mary & Broseph take the (urinal) cake this week. Jebus gives off a really bad creeper vibe, like he is into some vile form of pornography that can’t even be found on the internet and Mary is pure Gina Gershon-esque trashy hottness. Broseph is just along for the ride. Godspeed.
Crocodile Dun Douche: I have never so much wished for someone to be attacked by an albino in the dark of the night. And Mary, I like to imagine she has a thick spanish accent, and uses it to complain i don’t take her out for tapas anymore… why mary why, even in my dreams do you leave me?
Abdouchah the Butcher: B’Jesus, its Jebus! Alongside Immaculate Mary, we have a classic yin/turdgobbler thing goin’ on. His evident baptism in olive oil only adds yet another dimension to this tragedy.
Dex: You look yourself in the mirror, and you ask yourself “how much must one devote himself to the arts of being a douchebag, to actually be elevated to the status of ‘bag religious icon?”
justadouchalo: Jebus is a malodorous chunk of Non-Gonococcal Urethritis urethritis discharge that only a lengthy course of antibiotics will clear up during the course of which no alcohol or caffeine can be consumed. Broseph is grade III douche with shaved chest and stupid hair. Mary is immaculate.
Tony Ventresca: I cast my vote for #2, the Flying Jebusmonster. May he keep his limp noodly appendage far, far away from Mary, my future ex-wife, who is beautiful to my eyes, but for some odd reason is wearing 1980s black tights and pixie boots and sitting on the floor with two greasestains who are going to ruin that nice laminated hardwood.
jabbathebagger: Jebus. Though huffed and I puffed and tried in vain to peel away Swimhot’s flesh colored suit with a mighty stare, I have more than some suspicion that Model Bag’s signifiers have been photoshopped in for the ad campaign, and are now safely back on a clip art CD.
Peter Ilyich Doucheovsky: Despite the Rosalyn’s quality hottness, and the modelbag’s ridiculous groin tattoo, I have to vote for Jebus, simply because… Jebus creeps me the hell out.
dbBen: Leaving the martyred diety thing aside for a moment… this dude is the type of auto-douche that would shun real life responsibilities and accountability in honor of the pursuit of his “art.” His “art” sucks and is only intended to lure hotts. His 6 year old daughter Aniela hasn’t ever known her dad because he’s out shedding reality by getting high with p2p hotts. But it’s his “art”
Flounder: I’m Gonna have to go with Jebus for the win. Don’t get me wrong I LOVE the Toe but Front Butt’s tramp stamp doen’t bring the skeeze like Jebus.
Manimal: Jebus, because I’ve long been looking for a legal excuse to Castrate a Biblical Bull Cpucky)… And, Mary, for ALMOST making me able to forgive that evil German C#nt I was idiotic enough to marry… As much potential redemption appears to lie within her lengthy thighs…
soy bomb: His whole lifestyle may steer the supple Virgin away from my tender loins and into some nightmarish heroin-soaked chastity den from whence she may never return. Damn you Jebus.
Jacques Doucheteau: Jebus is flawlessly pulling off the eurobag AND and emobag (eurmobag?) look, and that’s deserving of some sort of extra recognition. Am I right? Maybe the strangulation with piano wire type of recognition would be sufficient. And, he’s trying a little too hard to look depressed. Maybe it’s ’cause Mary purged all over his new Kris Van Assche printed shirt.
Sir David Douchenborough: I am sure he hitchhiked his way down to Williamsburg from Dartmouth College just to show off his hipster cred by dressing up as a coked out extra in an MGMT music video.
Snoop Douchey Bagg: a) You just know they haven’t showered in a month and reek to high heavens, b) he’s probably in some god-awful jam band, and c) they look like a bunch of pretentious twats.
Indiana Choad and the Temple of Douche: Jebus, Mary and Broseph for the win. They are a bizarre combination of eurobaggery, gaybaggery, hipsterbaggery and homelessness.
opie sardonicus: Jebus and crew ftw. The self-absorption in His face makes me a believer in the ouroboros tampon. That will mercifully disappear up itself. Here endeth the lesson.
Lord McBaggin: It was a hard fought battle, with Jebus climbing two tough hurdles, and by hurdles i mean rosalyns giant mountains. Muggy makes me want to give up my 10 cents off the next one. for the oportunity to bean him in the head with my empty beer bottle. But, Jebus needs castrated so that at least he can not spread his virus to gods next child.
Indeed, and castration seems appropriate Lord McB. The power of shirtless greaseosity in presence of anorexic Eurohott was too divine not to mock. But this was a tight race, and by tight I mean Rosalyn’s shirt. Coming in a very close second, Muggy Rodriguez and the Rosalyns:
Eliza Douchecoo: You gotta go with the perfectly ripe delicious melons of Rosalyn. And Candy is beautiful. Muggy in the middle makes me sick to my already sick hungover stomach. It’s people like that that piss me off, being a taint out in public with hot chicks. They wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire but they hang out with this f@cker?
Horace Dangleballs: Muggy has douche factor five written all over him and his face looks like he just swallowed the sour pickle he had been warming in his rectum. Rosalyn’s chest cannons fill me with vim and vigor.
Sack O Douche: Muggy is taint and turd mixed with MMA faux toughness. The Rosalyns make me wanna eat watermelons and spit the seeds all over Muggy’s Honda Civic. After, the Rosalyns would thank me with boobie pillow time at the Motel 6.
Condouchious say…: You know, the guys who think that wearing these shirts connects them to world of MMA somehow and that the day job installing car stereos at Best Buy is temporary until the UFC comes a-calling. Seriously I hope you accomplish you’re dream of being mounted and pummeled by sweaty shirtless men…and I hope your MMA career takes off too.
Poultry Turd: Green card or not, Muggy Rodriguez should be tied to a fencepost in the Maricopa County desert, and left to the tender mercies of the 120 degree heat, the buzzards and pickup truck loads of Arizona rednecks.
G: Muggy has to win, just for the douche face alone. And the hotts are hott. Not much else to say for this week.
THEONETRUEDOUCHE: Muggy for the win. Modelbag and swimhott seem a bit phony- The glasses are fake-and that tattoo may just wash off- Muggy seems gives us that self confidence that will keep him here when he hits 45 has the same job and there is a faint hint that he is no longer a hit with the hotties.
Donkster: Muggy. If I saw him make that face in person I would punch him immediately as a reflex action. It’s not many a douche that causes the immediate auto reflex punch.
scrotum pole: I dreamed that Rosalyn was playfully bouncing her supple breasts about my face and neck while calling me naughty names. When I awoke, my wife was beating me with a sack of oranges and cussing me for peeing on the bathroom floor again.
I hate it when I end up pissing on the floor after being beaten with oranges. Good work, team. Rosalyn’s Rosalyns look like an early favorite at the 2010 Best Golden Globes category at the Douchie Awards in December. Coming in a distant third and proving that staged modelbaggery just doesn’t rankle the way the amateurs do, The Swimhott and Modelbag:
Architeuthis Douche: Swimhott and Modelbag by a nose over the Jebus. Both are useless hipster types. However, gaze deep into the eyes of the Jebus. He cries himself to sleep every night because his pro union dad thinks that his son is funny or something. The Modelbag, by contrast, is cocky and assured in his American Apparel lifestyle. F@ck that.
Sergeant Scrote Stain: The Swimhott’s curvaceous hips indicate an optimal level of fertility, and for The Modelbag to plant his more-than-likely mongloid seed within said womb would be a brass-knuckled punch to Charles Darwin’s esophagus.
The Reverend Chad Kroeger: I’m with Cameltoe. She is al that is pure and fuclable that baby Jesus taught us to love and protect. Proof indeed that the good father is looking over us. This weeks’ trifecta of blasphemy had caused me to lose faith this week. I will awake restored after a sweet Cameltoe dream in which model dude is de-rosaried by Stackhouse.
RAPETIME: She is everything right with vaginas and librarian glasses (a fetish I’ve long shared with DB1) and he is just ASKING for an axe handle to be applied repeatedly to his stupid shaved groin and ribcage.
Lil’ Fartknocker: After studying Swimhott’s hips…reminded me when Darryl Hannah whooped Harrison Ford’s ass…then put him in a headlock with her thighs…think she had the same swimsuit as Swimhott…I know she has the same thighs.
The hottie/douchey factor was off the charts, what with librarian glasses, cameltoe reveal and the douche’s stomach tatt, but the “posed” factor just defeated the douche-aura. So it is Jebus’s turn to lead us out of the darkness to the light of powermock. Lets let Ted take us home:
Jebus, Mary and Broseph for the win. There is a certain type of douchiness that has the potential to trounce even fist-pumping roid-rage ed-hardy douche… and that is the pretentious art-f#ck douche who appears to be suffering even though he’s as simple as a pimple. I grew up near RISD, believe me, I know this. Plus, Mary is unattainable hott.
Well said Ted, and extra props for the RISD art-douche reference (so true). Gold stars to everyone who voted for another hilarious comments thread. The Jebus and Mary Stain for the Monthly, and DB1 for Coco Puffs.
Friday Haiku
Inscriptions on face,
Tell where the gold is buried,
Hint: “No fault divorce.”
Tattoos on his face
Signify his gangster ties
With MS-Turdy.
— Crucial Head
The plain white t-shirt
offsets Affliction body;
his ass is tapped out.
— Wheezer
Instinct takes over
As Duane humps Steff’s dress that looks
like mom’s couch cushion
— Mr. Scrotato Head
Jawa on on left cheek
Searches face for scrap metal…
Build droid to kill him.
— Boatbutter
Rorshach nuzzles up
Kimmy smiles uncomfortably
sees a bad pattern.
– Mr. Biggs
Sandy smells so good
Puddy Holly’s getting wood
Do better, she could
— saulgoode42
Prison G.E.D.
Teacher’s pet has a huge crush
Not a shot in hell
— Vin Douchal
Even this dude’s poop
Is bedazzled with
White Corn Hieroglyphs
— DarkSock
grandma’s wallpaper
disguises pointy funbags
anal bead necktie
— paperorplastic
HCwDB of the Week: The Mountinis and Kimberly
Canada, thy shame is deep. Between this mugging of sweet Kimberly, and then Fred and Jed Mountini going for Appletinis, this swirl of HCwDB toxicity brings deep condemnation to the entire nation(s) of The Great White North. And just barely edged out The Tang and Shoshanna, and The Frogger/Lily combos.
The voters speak:
Et Tu Douche?: The Mountinis & Kimberly FTW. Kimberly is Hott in the non-slutty way with her curvaicious legs & bum I bet she’s very enthusiastic in the art of guilt free fornicating which, Canadian girls like their European sisters, take very serious and more importantly enjoy on a regular basis. The Mountinis encapsulate all that is D-Baggery and earn the win with classic/clowny DB signifiers, narcissistic attitudes and lack of individuality. These clowns are what this forum was founded on. They deservedly are worthy of our mock and out votes for we must adhere to the founding principles put forth by the founder of this forum.
opie sardonicus: Mountinis and Kimberlee ftw. Pure mathematics makes this easy. No way any one mortal douche can hold up against a menage a Trois Rivieres. The pure gang-banginess trumps whatever the other ‘bags bring. And as a Canadian, I am ashamed.
Horace Dangleballs: White belts with jeans. Virtual reality sungoggles. Shaved chests. Belt buckles the size of hubcaps. Steroid-induced muscles that would prohibit them from slapping a mosquito that landed on top of their heads. “Look at me!” tattoos. Whatever little purses / bags two of the three seem to be sporting. And that completely leaves out one of them drinking what appears to be a COSMOPOLITAN in the second photo. Congratulations, latent homos. It appears the ‘roids have finally shrunken your testicles to the point you are now women… to the shame and horror of women everywhere.
Lord McBaggin: Mountinis For Sure. That is one trio of society’s demise. they should all be impaled rectally on a very long pike witch is planted in the ground, and left as a totem in the great white north. so that future civilizations may heed the warning of the douchtitude.
Douchè: Shoshanna poses with everyone (I’m convinced that other guy is not the same), rendering the Tang no threat to anyone. Froggy was very close, but the second picture (sharing fruity beverages) definitely puts the Mountinis over the top.
saulgoode42: Has to be The Mountinis – who else looks like they could kick your ass, and then polish it and put a little doilie on it afterwards to serve you breakfast and beg your forgiveness? Such is the clash in these ambi-sextrous dudes.
Tony Ventresca: Although the Mountinis make me embarassed to be a Crazy Canuck, their uber-doucheness is so strong that it is causing passersbys in the background to stare and laugh in amusement at this vignette of horror. I’m assuming this photo was taken somewhere in Quebec. If it was Alberta – our other totally useless province – these douches would be in cowboy hats.
Sack O Douche: I say Mountinis are the winner. Shirts off with pants is rad and bag in my opinion! Plus, slutty Kimberly and her tight dress can bend over for me anytime.
Wheezer: I’m going with The Mountinis FTW. I know the broheims just wanna have fun, but when your leader does his hair like the side of Cyndi Lauper’s 1983 head yet combines that with his “manly” tribals…..oh screw it, you’re just a douche.
Eliza Douchecoo: I considered my initial vote for Shoshanna based on her hottness but thought about it over lunch. The Mountinis would have to be the winners here. The guys hair ensemble is incredibly ridiculous. While Shoshanna is sexy, the Mountinis are complete and total douchebags, the appletini pic is the icing on the ‘bag.
Anonymous: The Mountinis FTW. His hair is one of the most stupid arrangements I have seen in some time
Bag Margera: my vote goes to Mountinis. Whether it’s Edmonton, Niagra, or the Trois-Rivières area, these poonises bring shame to my already G-20 shamed country.
Peter Ilyich Doucheovsky: Even though The Tang makes me want to set defenseless woodland creatures on fire, and I would leap all over Lily Pad Hott, my vote must be for The Mountinis. They are, by all accounts, a perfect visual representation of the Greico virus. In the beginning there was probably only one Mountini, but because the other two “bro’s” were constantly exposed to the atrocity of the fauxhawk and tribal tatts, they are now infected.
Don’t worry, Kimberly, I’ll rescue you. And then serenade you with ancient Hawaiian lovesongs on my ukelele.
Exactly right and excellently deconstructed by all who voted. I defy anyone who claims that Kimberly does not hold up the Hott side of the equation. Take another look. She is Canadian politeness mixed with drunken boozehound. An easier combination has yet to be globally located. Coming in a close second, The Tang and Shoshanna:
dbBen: She smiles now, but she won’t be smiling once she finds out that Insurance Fraud is a felony.
elderdouch: My vote goes to The Tang and Shoshanna is HOT!!! and her grandfather is NOT
boatbutter: Tang. Mainly because of his stubby little midget legs. Shoshanna must’ve taken his femurs and stuffed them in her boobs. Which appear unmanageably huge. And awesome.
End the Haberdouchery: The Tang. Only an asshole like this guy would hire Yao Ming to be his photographer.
smackdouche: The Tang and Shoshanna. With a win, Tang will show that childhood polio hasn’t kept him from being a winner–and a douche.
Deltus: Tang and Shoshanna. We have roided up tattbag, age inappropriateness, and Shoshanna is all kinds of innocent looking super built uber hottness omigod fap fap fap fap fap.
Mr. Biggs: The true HCwDB moment requires not only a rank looking douchebag, but the innocent, happy, intelligent hott who has no idea of the horrors in store for her. And in this, Tang and Shoshanna get the gold. Tang’s douchey pedosmile, Shoshanna’s eternally youthful beam, it’s a moment for the annals of HCwDB.
Scooby Douche: Shoshanna has incredible breasts. I would watch those like a CIA spy satellite in geosynchronous orbit over Russia. And take photos too. And masturbate to them in the darkroom.
Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche: Tang dares to dream big. He dreams of a time when he’ll no longer have the legs of a five year-old girl stricken with polio. He dreams of a time when other douches will stop using him as a human drink coaster. More importantly he dreams of a time when people stop asking him “Are you the father on ‘Little People, Big World’?” Yes, he’ll show them. He’ll show them.
I’m pleased to see my appreciation for the real world wholesome but lustful beauty of Shoshanna was not missed by others. Coming in a solid third place, with significant support, was the Kid Rock shwanger, The Frogger and his Lily Pad, Leanner:
Crazed Aborigine: Just on the strength of oily, slightly bleethy, bikini clad brunette perfection, it must be Frogger. He needs to be the guest of honor at the roadkill cafe, she needs to be my next executive office assistant, AKA the plaintiff in my NEXT harrassment suit. The six digit payout would be worth it, I tell you.
Anthony LaBaglia: Leanne is a coupla shelves higher than these other two. I love the way she’s ever-so-subtly rolling that string bottom down her hip. She looks so cool, and self-aware.
Douchelips: I have to swim against the tide and vote for The Frogger Lily Pad Hott. She is all sorts of greased up water pond delicious. Lithe and smooth, ready to shimmy over to my side of the pond for some slime wrestling. The Frogger on the other hand has watched too may Kid Rock videos and obviously thinks that’s what passes for cool. Nobody wants to be your “homie” Frogger. Now take that wife-beater, athletic pants, ironic glasses and hat-tilt out out to the cow pasture and pick up the dung. Becuase that’s where you belong.
Dicy: While the Tang is all that is wrong and the world and Shoshana is all that is right in the world.. I do have a personal vendetta against Kid Rock trashy douches so its gotta be Frogger, he’s the kind of taint that makes my blood boil and even more so for being so close to a lovely lily pad!
Doucheasaurus Rex: Froggy and LeAnn. Try in vain as I may, i would always inevitably lose if the game was called Hot chicks with Froggers. I want to seem him squished.
Paul Muad’douche, the Kwisatz Scroterach: If there’s any justice in this universe, the Frogger will perish in a meth lab fire, and soon, and Leanne will move north of the Mason-Dixon line, or at least to a place where Deliverance is thought of as a work of fiction and not a documentary. If the universe is benign, she will seek me out, and I can teach her all about things she has yet to experience from her home town, such as art, the printed word, and food that wasn’t killed running across a highway.
Ted: The hott power of Leanne puts the Frogger over the top. Frogger might actually be a fakey pretender in pure costume bagginess, but Leanne causes me to forget all this and… I’m sorry, what was I saying? I lost my train of thought.
Indeed, and I still feel Southern Douche just doesn’t get its proper mock on the site. We’ll have to rectify that in the future. But this week, it was Canada’s time to shine. And by shine, I mean shoes. Lets let mr.reeve take us home:
Shoshanna and Lily Pad are hotter than Kimberly but the Mountinis are just too much douche and Axe for me to pass up. Girly martinis, roids, f*cked up hair and bad cloths are how the Mountinis roll with a Canadian twist. What a Canadian twist is I do not know, but Canada is our neighbor and it appears the douche flu lives there as well. Sorry Canada.
Indeed. Good work to all who voted once again for quality parse. Chalk up our first coupling of toxicity for the next HCwDB of the Month. And your semi-humble narrator for Cheez Puffs.
HCwDB of the Week
This is a quality smackdown. Three supreme all beef patty choices. You know the drill. Bring it. Here’s your finalists:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: The Frogger and Leanne, aka Lily Pad Hott
About time we get some Kid Rock classic Southern Douchebag all up in this bisquit.
Froggy is classic roadkill chum.
Elvis glasses, hat tilt and ‘tude.
And lets not forget, The Frogger’s Lily Pad Pear Grab (aka “the day the music died”).
The opposition between quality female form and truck runover worthy Bawdiggaba da douchey douchey douchey is strong with this one.
But strong enough to be award winning shoe scrape?
Southern Kid Rock Trashbag types have rarely won a Weekly.
Could this be the tide turn? And by tide turn, I mean Lily’s lickable wallpaper?
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Tang and Shoshanna
Strange mutant camera angle that shrinks The Tang’s legs into stumpy twigs is complimented by a second pic of The Tang in which The Tang may or may not actually be The Tang.
This is just all sorts of weirdness.
For The Tang is not just spikey haired orangedouche. He’s also an important technological innovation.
You see, the Tang was famously invented by NASA in the 1970s to insure that astronauts wouldn’t fear death in the case of emergency. If the Shuttle was in trouble, all the astronauts had to do was realize that The Tang existed, and life would seem meaningless and death a welcome release.
And there’s two pics of sweet wholesome Polly Purebread boobie gnaw in the form of sorority pledging Shoshanna.
The dialectic is strong with this pairing. But enough to win the Weekly? What about:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Mountinis and Kimberly
Bringing deep shame to Canada, the atrocious Mountinis continued to mug Kimberly until they gave up and went for Appletinis.
Add up the douchetributes:
Greased widow peak hair on Mountini Fred.
Roided up orangebag status.
And poor Kimberly. All she wanted to do was find a decent boy to make out with in the greater Trois-Rivières area.
(Dis)honorable mention to Boris, who brought Suzie’s perfect boobage but a bit too ironic dressup to make the Weekly, the creepy goth douche of Nick Preps for Brain Surgery, and the hotness of Paid to Pose Lisa who got snagged by The Spike Brothers.
But them’s your three HCwDB finalists, and all three are quality. Which will rise to the top (bottom) and earn our first slot in the next HCwDB of the Month?
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
EDIT: And while you’re voting, take a moment to remember the unique voice and brilliance of Harvey Pekar.
The Mountinis
With a backlog of amazing submissions, this week is chock full of ‘bag, so while there may not be a vote, lets get our mock on.
First up, Canada’s shameful The Mountinis.
A modern conceptual inversion of the rural and rugged Canadian Mounties, The Mountinis tan and shave with the worst of douche culture. And are hitting on Kimberly with fullblown global Grieco Virus in effect.
Yikes.
Next thing you know, they’ll start sipping Appletinis like the true oranged up roidbags they are.
Blame Canada?
Don’t mind if I do.
HCwDB of the Month: The Sharkbag and Renee
Barely besting the Spike of Four Prong and the overachieving middle aged Lenny and Paulina, with The Lake Crotch Cactii in solid fourth, The Shark and Renee’s boobies were simply too impressive to overcome.
Witness the run: Goose Crotch BJs, slutty Gina Gershon in ’95 hott,Shark With Boobies and Sharkbag and Renee.
The voters speak:
tall guy: In Sharkpud we have every representation of the axis of evil. The douche hair, the pouty/smartarse look, the Johnny Cash wannabee sartorial selection. Naysayers may say (?) he doesn’t even approach the doucherie of Four Prong and Lenny. I say different. Besides, something tells me Four Prong and especially Lenny would derive too much smug satisfaction from a monthly – itself a rather douchie thing. In summation, Sharkbag for the win!
Scooby Douche: Ima go for Sharkbag and Renee this month. Her fantastic boobs caused me to lick my computer screen for about 20 minutes. I would take mountaineering classes for years just to spend 30 seconds exploring those twin peaks. I could spend years exploring her cave. And Sharkbag, he’s a hard-working douche, what with that stupid hair and arm tat. And what’s that little brown thing in his mouth, a turd?
Mr. Biggs: we have to look to the zen moment of when a douchebag gets the intelligent, curious hott to surrender to his taint. And in this Sharkbag wins hands down. His capacity to sniff out and taint only the choicest of hott meat outdoes all the others. They don’t just pose with him. They bite, they perform mock fellatio, they show off their cleavage, all while he smirks for the camera. So Sharkbag for the win. And as he wins, we all lose.
Anonymous: I’ve never voted before, but Renee makes me do things I wouldn’t normally do. Sharkbag it is.
Hootie McDouche: Gotta be the Sharkbag. It is horrible to think that this choad/wank, this Douche in Extremis, this ugly asshat is floating around the party scene. While I sit here alone with a cat who has projectile diarrhea.
Whoop-di-Douche: Sharkbag and Renee ought to win this monthly, for his hair is as extreme as Prong’s but his Hott is so far above and beyond the usual proffering, I can hear the sizzle and see the smoke wafting off the screen.
Fyodor Dostedouchesky: Sharkie’s Machine for the win. Machine, as in he should be put through a meatgrinder and fed to real sharks, while Renee dons Jacqueline Bisset’s attire from “The Deep”.
Guns-n-Douches: The ink, the bottle-service posing, the f@cktacularly bad hairdoo-doo… (I stand up and applaud) Sharky, you have truly exceeded my expectations. You bring the hotts, the attitude, the image and I am afraid that you may actually reproduce. Well played sir. Sharky for the monthly.
Justin: Renee…still not calling me back? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you..didn’t you get my last 40 texts? You must be busy…I’m sure you have a lot going on, please….Renee…I love you. Sharkbag, keep your grubby mitts away from my girl. You dick.
Amerigo Vesdouchey: His douche aura could power a small town indefinately. His hair could give Roy Scheider nightmares. His hotts give me wood.
Pablo Sinatra: I was gonna say TLCC, but then I scrolled down and there was Sharkbag, the biggest douchebag I’ve ever seen in my life. I can’t believe that every vote on this thread isn’t for him. None of the others even begin to approach this. In my version of reality, though, that’s an exploding cigar in his mouth, and seconds later, that smokin’ hot babe lights it and blows his be-mohawked head apart like a hand grenade.
chaserofthehott: Sharkbag must die, and by die I mean win, and by win I mean lose, Oh hell, Renee I love your breasts!
Indiana Choad and the Temple of Douche: Sharbag FTW. He has an aura of sleazyness that the others can’t match. Lenny comes close, but a fondness for ball-gags and public spanking does not an autoscrote make. The cactii are just garden variety ‘bags, and ‘Prong is just a collector of cell numbers that all mysteriously connect to the Sunshine Home for the Perennially Confused. Or the Free Clinic. Whichever.
ehcuodouche: I’d have to give the nod to the Shark, though, cause I really liked Gina Gershon in Bound. Shark doesn’t just pull in bimbos. That’s an NYU graduate pretending to fellate his Goose!
Hong Kong Douchey: Sharkbag FTW. He’s the most crowbar-able. Blue top on the right is the reason that “safe words” are needed.
Lurksalot: For me this guy has it all, the stupid tats, hilarious hair, props and bottle service, all signals of a bag giving it 100% in persuit of the quality hot. Oh and how it is all working for him, Renee has clearly tagged him as easy prey, to be milked for drink and blow even to the point of going home with the pud. Later he will bring his A-Game in the bedroom, sweating and gasping like some 3 rate porn star until sated, after which Renee will then retire to the bathroom to finish the job. He will wonder why she never returns his calls and why her and her friends giggle whenever they see him in the club. In the mean time he has the confident swagger of a douche at the top of their game, a veritable proto Samurai Scrote.
Sharkbag FTW.
Well said Lurks. Indeed, it may be the run of secondary pics, not just his initial Hannibal stoagie smoking pose, that takes The Sharkbag into a legit Yearly contender. That being said, Sharkbag just barely won, beating out the hard charging and epic, but ultimately prong-short Four Prong:
Dex: Four Prong! Never have I seen such an undeserving force of annoyance sweep westward from the Orient, tainting all in its path like the stench of so much kimchi. He’s lucky Lo-Pan isn’t around to see this. He would have the Three Storms wage magical war on his pitchfork on a hairdo, and steal all his paid-to-pose women. Because nobody out-macks Lo-Pan.
End the Haberdouchery: I’m still stuck on Four Prong’s Jordana Brewster hott, despite her awful tattoo and the fact that someone mentioned she was in porn. I can change her. All I need is two gallons of maple syrup, a stuffed badger, a nine iron, IcyHot, and two months in a log cabin deep in the Yukon from which we would both emerge emaciated and exhausted, but ultimately satisfied.
Peter Ilyich Doucheovsky: This is a particularly tough installment, with Lenny’s over compensating old-baggery being enough to make me smack a manatee, and the Sharkbag’s ridiculous pizza-cutter hairdo. However, my vote must be for Four Prong. Not only because the K Sisters are more delicious than a New York Strip on Independance Day (with A-1 sauce, mashed potatoes and corn), but because while accepting his award and giving me the nod of appreciation, he might just poke my eyes out so as never to see him again. Please?
Bag Margera: Four Prong. Brings. The hotts. Every. Time. Why does he bring the hotts every time? It simply isn’t believable. I can justify the other candidates getting hotts by pointing to alcohol, low standards, and general filthy kinkiness. But four prong is so horrid looking, he transcends all flaws and poor choices in lady logic. There is no explanation and no justification. He is simply Four Prong, Douchebag of the month.
The ladies run cannot be argued with B.M, good points, and good work. Four Prong is pure spectacle, but “Douche Aura” is perhaps lacking. The Sharkbag’s sneer was just so much more punchworthy. And in third, but nearly tied with Four Prong, the aging nutsackery of Lenny and Paulina, who pulled mock from the older HCwDB ‘bag hunters:
Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamscote: Hairless Lenny the freak FTW because he stole my wife’s underwear and shaves like her too.
I R A Darth Aggie: I’m going to go with Lenny FTW. Mostly because I gotta support a douche my age (and admit that I’d ply Paulina with Goose and cranberry, rub cocoa butter into her skin, give her back rubs and read Shakespeare’s love sonnets to her), but also to piss off the Fire Crotch Cacti, Sharkbag, and Prong-bag.
RAPETIME: I need – I must – go with Lenny. He’s my age, maybe at best a couple of years older. He has done things to his body in the pursuit of the eternal charms of young, possibly blood relative snatch that I’d never dream of doing. He knows what he wants and he’s out there living the dream, which so few of us can or will do. Rock on, Lenny and your midlife crisis. You go get some, and may the rest of us be spared the need to join in the utter abdication of your dignity. I raise my glass to you, good sir, and hope you find the plundering of Paulina’s tight assets worth it. I’ll bet it will be.
Troy Tempest: Lenny FTW, and by win I mean loss, and by loss I mean ugly tatts on a roided out granpa and his hideous GSR and leather undies. Ugh. He is a blight on society.
Casey: Lenny FFS. Oldbaggery is one thing, but having “Death B4 Dishonor” tattooed on your abdomen like some East LA cholo is taking it to a completely different level. It was probably the name of his underground hip hop debut on No Limit Records for which he got tatted up for the cover where he GSR’d it on the hood of a rented Bentley. “I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME BIG GRAM-PA!” he raps on track 4.
And in fourth, but with legitimate support for real world douchescrotery and everyday girl cuteness, The Lake Crotch Cactii:
bigphatnottadouche: Prong must have a fistful of 100’s to make the Hotts pose with him. Lenny is a scary old bag who has the wierd leather panties thing going for him. Sharkbag was more douchey but my vote goes to oil stains which are the Lake Catcii for fouling the shores in the western states.
Sir Douche A Lot: Lake Crotch Cactii FTW. The Top Gun shirts are really what makes them win over Prong. Sorry Prong.
melvil duchi: TLCC just because we should not have to see Four Prong and Lenny ever again. Sharkbag’s hots make him a worthy competitor but TLCC’s hots still have a chance to not be ruined. And I think the blonde on the left has a bottle of Boone’s Farm. Stay classy
Boone’s Farm is classy, M.D. but your point is taken. However this was the Shark’s week to sail off Renee’s boobies into the Yearly. Lets let Et Tu, Douche? take us home:
Sharkbag & Renee. He is all that is DB from the smirky smiles, to his overwhelming smugness, the hairdo, the studded belt buckle, index finger rings etc.,etc. He seems like the type who takes hours in front of a mirror to get ready before he goes out on the town. His overwhelming, obvious narcissism is disturbing and that self loathing, little to no self esteem Hott’s like Renee are attracted to that is a major contributor to the HCWDB essence. He brings all the douche signifiers, Renee brings the luscious mounds and thus they are my pick for the win
Indeed. They are lucious mounds. Chalk up the Shark and Renee for the win, and the DB1 for his safe travels to the East Coast. I’m on a strange computer, so apologies if formatting is as weird as Four Prong’s privates. Great work to all in yet another hilarious comments thread, and me for cereal. With sugar.
HCwDB of the Week
It’s a Long-Island-Palooza of a weekly. Three very similar cuts of ‘Island hott/choad. The last Weekly before the Monthly, as the summer holidays fast approach.
Bring it, Vuvuzela style:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Ronkonkoma Dave and Tangerine Tammy
Dave works hard for the weekend.
Tammy likes to tan.
They don’t leave their small town that often.
Because Tammy’s gotta work the Tuesday shift at “The Clam Bake” by the shore, and Dave’s busy bussing tables at the nearby Applebees.
It’s a hard knock life. But they get by.
Except, every so often, when it’s time to party. And Ronkonkoma Dave and Tangerine Tammy get their hottin’ and douchin’ on.
But enough to win the Weekly? That leads us to:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Troy Khan’s Chest Reveal and Angie
Khannnn!!!
Yes, it’s true, Star Trek 2 references will never die. It is the Citizen Kane of the 80s. “Citizen Khan,” if you will. A masterpiece of an innovation of a genius wrapped in an earwig. May it live forever in cinema history.
Troy is just your average chest-shave revealing superpud.
He is to be mocked and derided by Spock and Derrida.
Yup. No idea what I’m saying anymore.
Angie is our second trashy Island humpty-hump, but underneath that curvy objectified exterior, there’s a sweet princess who just longs to be free.
And by princess, I mean large baby bagoombas.
Because I’m sensitive to the literature like that.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Lake Crotch Cactii
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Is Pink, Ruddy and Pumped Up enough to win an HCwDB of the Week? Jed and Barry, aka “Iceman” and “Goose,” sure think so.
This pic has spike, mandana, and, the markings of true HCwDB, Ubiquitous Red Cup. On the right, The Iceman certainly has a strange, creepy inflated ‘tude that is pure “douche aura.” And Michelle is quality lithe gnaw. She certainly brings the coquettish Kelly McGillis in an inverted dive with a MIG polaroid smile to the game.
But can The Crotch Cactii win simply on the basis of secondary information, like Iceman’s homerotic posing with his bros? Or The Iceman Finding Love on a boat?
Just missing the cut, Hurley Luncherson, who was just too happy to be a finalist (and Amzonian Reese Witherspoon just didn’t bring the hott), the tough guy prom hilarity of Omaha Goes Gangsta, the blazing hottness of Natalie’s Eyes, Dr. Jorge Mendoza for writing in with one of the douchiest emails of the year (see you at the 2010 Douches, Dr. Doza), and The Hebro, eliminated for being a pro-bag porn actor.
Them’s your three.
Only one coupling is wrong enough to earn the Monthly. Which is it?
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
