Joey Porsche and Friends
Yes, old friend Joey Porsche wanted to bring his ‘bagaholics by and remind you to vote in the HCwDB of the Week contest by scrolling down.
There’s really nothing like a gang-douche posse of kissy lips, giant block letter shirts, and greased up cheeks tackling a stage-4 Bleethed out and unredeemable hottie in a purple dressing room.
It’s got that lovely je ne sais quoi misty scent of uberdouchebaggery. The kind that fries eggs over-easy on your dashboard and sterilizes bullfrogs with ominous environmental impact.
This pic is beyond simply disurbing. It enters the realm of philosophical catch-22. Does the colletive douche-grope inspire the kissy lips? Or do the kissy lips inspire the douche-grope?
Which came first, the Axe Bodyshots of the hair gel?
Easter Island Head
I’m not sure when the Easter Island Heads turned into blinged up uberdouchewanks, but I have definitely lost some respect for the Rapa Nui Ahu Targariki tribes.
The Velvet Helmet
Velvet’s Helmet isn’t even hair. It’s some form of bacterial infection taking root. I don’t know whether to mock his douchebaggery or spray a topical antibiotic on his head and hope it isn’t a resistant strain.
Or just kick him in the nads and steal the sextuplet hotties O.J. style.
Perky Braless Blue has that young Teri Hatcher “crazy eyes” thing. The kind where every minute you spend with her you have to weigh whether the potential for hooking up outweighs the nuts-o factor.
We’ve all been there. Putting up with four hours of insecure verbal nonsense pouring out from a Hottie’s mouth like an avalanche of psychoanalytic backwash. A cascade of fragmented shards of traumatized ego, attention deficit pathology and massive Daddy issues.
But you take it. Because of that promising hint of Perky Braless Boobies. If you can just hurdle the psychological trainwreck and get to the boobies, it’s like winning the Pentathlon.
Snow White and the Two Camel Asses
One of the lesser known films in the Disney historical collection, Snow White and the Two Camel Asses, remains a favorite of children the world over.
And by children, I mean me. And by favorite, I mean boobies.
Succulent curvy hints of a better tomorrow. The potential for world peace and humanity’s spiritual ascension to a higher state of consciousness, found in two bouncy boobie pillows.
And then the choads. All that is nihilistic and dispairing in a world gone wrong. All that is camel ass. Miller High Life and shiny douche-foreheads. Huxley’s Brave New World of “B minus” douchebaggery.
But I would still tackle Snow White like a fascist class system on Red Bull.
The Fungus Twins
Ever put a quarter in one of those toy dispenser machines outside laundromats and supermarkets and buy one of those little rubber trolls that come inside a plastic bubble?
You know the ones. Those tiny sponge figurines where if you add water, they grow 50x their original size?
Apparently somebody in Las Vegas added water. And a heaping teaspoon of douchebaggery.
HCwDB of the Week
In sipping your morning coffee and contemplating our visual culture of the desperate spectacles of performance, the fauxhawks, face grease, sunglasses at night and the hotties who congregate at its douchey flame, know this.
Within the ripples of the collective mock lies the seeds of social revolution.
So don’t think of today’s voting as simply selecting which choad/hott combo most combines the intoxicating and nauseating aromas of yin/yang wrongness. Think of your vote as a participation in cultural transformation.
So go ahead. Mock a choad. Leer at a boob. Don’t do it for you. Do it for all of us. One ‘bag at a time.
Here are your finalists:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: The Facehugger
As any experienced ‘bag hunter knows, hunting for the signs of uberdouchosity isn’t always that easy.
You have to parse the subtleties of male douchebaggery in the presence of the hott. Look for the key signifiers of cultural douche-poo at work.
And then there are scrotal funguses like The Facehugger, in which no skills whatsoever are needed to stamp “Choad” on his forehead in bright orange letters and call it a day.
This pud is as douche-obvious as douche-obvious gets. Helen Keller recoiled at the sight of him. Stevie Wonder grew sick in his presence. And yes, I’m doing blind jokes.
Sexy O.C. Blonde has the teased hair of 1980s Heather Locklear by way of Lori Loughlin. She makes my happy pants do the happy dance.
But it’s that little peaking Douche Belly Button on The Facehugger that puts his James Cameron alien egg laying douchebaggery over the top and into the finals.
It is rank.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Olive Loaf
As reader pfah so aptly stated in the comments thread, yellow is the new boner.
Olive Loaf is upscale chain restaurant cheese. Store bought choad. Featuring one of the key signs of hairbaggery, the perfect rows of Iowa corn mean his follicles are ready for the fall harvest.
Olive Loaf’s douchey charms rest completely in his oily persona and low cut douche-shirt. But he doesn’t give us the ‘bag hand gesture nor a douche-face, and that may cost him in the voting.
Making up for his lack of douche-effort, I spy boobies.
And a dress that celebrates life. And by life, I mean the lustful pale cleavite of side-boob.
She is a sultry red wine.
He is loaf.
Together, they make a hottie/douchey meal with all the food groups covered.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The White Shadow
I’m going with The White Shadow as our third finalist even if he may be The Fish Slap, because we’ve never had a finalist so spewdouche that he made it into the finals without his full douche-face being visible.
And then there’s Pouty Doll. Who’s bringing anorexia back.
The silver speckled bustier and aqua blue bra strap all contribute to an aura of absolute sexual healing.
I would dip cherries in chocolate and sell them for$7.99 a pound to ungrateful housewives in an upscale eatery if I could take her deli orders once a week. I would walk her four Irish Setters and pick up their poo with a plastic baggy if I could hang outside her kitchen window and watch her polish her nails by the fireplace.
Seeing her get pawed by The White Shadow is enough to cancel a 1970s show about high school basketball players named Salami.
Honorary mention goes to Gunter in Rio, and the twin zygotes featured in Afflicted.
Both just missed the cut.
So them’s your three. And only one will move on to the finals.
But which’ll it be? Which combo of sexy cutie and rotting bark fungus most turns your stomach and inspires your wrath?
Facehugger? Olive Loaf? Or The White Shadow?
All you lurkers, time to step up and vote. Let your hottie/douchey vote ring out, as always, in the comments thread.
Douchemobile
Reader Tom writes in with the following pic:
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Was driving the other day and came across this car…first I was lost for words, then I had to chase it down over 4 lanes of traffic for 1km to take a pic.
is there such a thing as a douchemobile?
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Yes. Yes there is.
Although your pic is like playing Grand Douche Auto. Where’s my gatt and 40 kilos?
Sunday Spew
So, hung over from a night of excess, I ponder my sunday morning. Coffee? Perhaps. A tasty bowl of Cocoa Puffs? Of course.
A rank frost tipped aging club-choad Piscopo with two pieces of arm candy?
Now I’m awake.
Mmm… they are lovely. If they could only lose the ‘bag of goiter, I would share my Cocoa Puffs with them. But not too much. Because I’m running low.
Retro Douche: Right Said Fred
Yeesh. I think I blocked this travesty from my subconscious for the last fifteen years.
Definitely ahead of their time douchebaggery for these muscle ass-clowns.
DB1 Interviewed on Y101
PIC DELETED
Your humble narrator on all things hottie/douchey, The DB1, was interviewed and named “Internet Hero of the Week” on Richmond’s Y101 last week. I may sound a little tired as the interview was done at 5:30 in the morning my-time, but checkitout.
And since I didn’t have a picture to run with this plug, here’s a sexy angular hottie with a tub of discount generic choad.
