More Basics: The S.O.D.
Continuing this afternoon’s trip back to our earthy hottie/douchey roots, and by earthy I mean cowpie and by roots I mean bleached, here’s a back to basics S.O.D.
Standard Operating Douche-Face.
Like most classic scrote, SOD presents douchosity from a deep place within his psyche. It eminates from the douche-face like amplified radiation along the spectral graph.
Oh sure, SOD has other markers of douchebaggery, greasy head, ridiculous hat, lurking Douchebagger #2 in the background, etc. But it’s the S.O.D. that takes him up a notch.
And the healthy boobed ball of hott on his arm don’t hurt neither.
Kneel before SOD, indeed. Or just hit him in the nuts with a beanbag.
Basics
A reader commented that we’ve been getting a little esoteric with some of the recent pics, so I thought I’d bring it back down to basics with a reminder of just what the classic hottie/scrotey combo looks like at its core essence.
This is either Joey Porsche or Johnny Blaze, two MySpace stars featured on the site a few months ago. Which one is it? Heck, I can’t tell them apart. The hair grease blinds my higher cognitive functions and makes me want to punch orphans, nuns and a cute baby seal in the nethers.
She’s a short, compact drink of suburban Long Island Iced Tea hotness.
He is wank.
Allow the hottie/greasy aroma to coexist in perfect HCwDB dissonance.
Back to basics, baybee. Back to basics.
Grover
Somewhere, locked deep in a vault in Hollywood, California, Jim Henson’s missing a Muppet.
The Doggie 'Bag Goes Mainstream
Like any new trend, the Doggie ‘Bag maneuver was first introduced into the discourse by the douche trendsetters, the choadwank avant-garde if you will. It was cutting edge douchery. New. A profound shift in how the douchebag/hot commingle on the pre-coital dance stage.
We first saw it with last month’s HCwDB of the Month winner, and apparent trailblazing innovator, The Trainwreck. The Trainwreck was quickly followed by college wanks and fratdouche wannabes. But other masters of douchebaggery also produced important technical innovations with the move, as seen in The Doggie Doucher.
Now, like a new haircut or a new style of clothing, the Doggie ‘Bag maneuver works its way down from the elite of douchebaggery to the masses, where it is copied and mass produced in an ad hoc cultural intertextual refraction.
Yes kids. The Doggie ‘Bag has arrived.
And the Lord saw it. And it was douche.
'Baglings
Note to all aspiring ‘baglings and future hotties currently in high school:
Tampering with the dark arts of douchebaggery is a path that leads only to silly hats and forehead grease. Primitive grunting and short term jobs at Del Taco.
But ‘Bagling in the middle still has hope. His collar has not yet popped like a turkey gauge, therefore his douchitude has not yet reached maturity.
He can still be saved.
Future hotties are underage, so I will simply warn them that exposure to even the young ‘baglings can manifest down the line in strange, awkward, and itchy ways.
Be careful kids. Once you open the ‘bag door, the Griecos come out at night.
Two Beerbags and a Swedish Meatball
It’s important to remember that ‘bags come in international flavors, too. These Euro football playing Old World scrotebags are in classic ‘bag sandwich formation. Note mark of the ‘bag on both foreheads (the cock-n-balls reflection seen in forehead grease).
And of course both are sandwiching around a nice Swedish meatball.
Mmm. Swedish Meatball.
Dig that peek of Holy Cleavite on her right ta. It’s saying “Hallo!! Hallo DB1!! Come hike my Ryfjallet hinterlands!! Come ski the slopes of my Riksgransen!!”
Why yes, Inga. I believe I will.
After kicking Germanic Sloping Brow in his bratwurst.
Jenny
To prevent any more mass suicides or vomitoriums caused by the legendary Uncaped Crusader, Tatman, here’s an absolutely perfect ball of hott with a midly annoying stage-2 wannabe scrotemunch.
I’ll call her Jenny. Because she’s got that everygirl hott that we all lusted after at one point in our lives or another. We all have our Jenny.
Actually, Westside House Painter is more than a little annoying. The more I stare at him, the more I want to grind garlic cloves with his chin.
Tatman Begins
I don’t care what the critics say, Tatman Begins is a quality remake. Far darker, more complex and engaging an origin story than those goofy 1990s versions like Tatman Forever, Tatman Returns and the lesser known Tatman Versus Cro Bagnon.
Vicki Vale Hottie appears to be searching for Tatman’s secret utility belt. A little lower, Vicki. Just below where it reads “I am douche” in scriptive.
Big Poppy
Look, we all know high school sucks. Those awkward teen years struggling to figure out your identity. Running to classes pissed off because nothing makes any sense and your friends all suck.
Writing melodramic love poems in a tiny journal while you sit in the quad during lunch period. Wondering if Mr. Belding were real, would he be douching it up in Vegas?
And then there are the Big Poppys.
Those popular kids who seem to have it all going on. Dating the hottie. Popping the collar and bleaching the hair with the cool factor set on 10.
But is it really set on 10? Is it really, Big Poppy?
Saved By the 'Bag
Mr. Belding says, “Don’t forget to vote for your favorite HCwDB pic in the Weekly!”
Oh, Mr. Belding.
Making ‘bag hand gesture #93. What would Zach and Kelly think if they could see you now?
