Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Iceman Finds Love

Pink, ruddy and pumped up Iceman, he of Tuesday’s The Lake Crotch Cactii finds love on a yacht.

Aww. I love a story with a happy ending, lots of ‘roids, and a skin condition.

HCwDB of the Week: Flex Luthor and Jennifer

It’s nice to see Classic Jerz Pud acting douchey in the presence of a tasty slice of hott pie get recognition. And by recognition, I mean enough mocking to win the Weekly. And by nice, I mean cultural nadsuck.

And lets not forget Flex and Jen #2. The voters speak:

Ted: Gotta be Flex Luthor FTW…. All three are offensive (though Suckerfish merely descends into “Village People” nimroddery), but after a week (or three) of pure freak shows, we need a return to normalcy, the kind best represented by a steroid takin’, Ed Hardy-wearin, fist-pumpin’ Goombah such as Flex.

Soy Bomb: Jennifer is wholesome whott while Flex is burnt, cut and a solid douchebag. I’ve seen his kind many a time here in South Bay, harassing helpless drunken beach hotties such as Jennifer here while I sulked in the background, shaking my head and milking another Zima. Congrats Flex! Nice hat. You suck.

Chad Kroeger: Flex Luthor. Flex breaths, eats, finds water, sex, sleep, and excretes, his homeostatic propensity is ambigous. And Flex Luthor is so wide he cannot get out of the bottom level of Maslow’s pyramid.

Douches Wild: I must endorse the OG form from this crew, FLEX, a skidmark in the pants of society and Jennifer, who radiates nuanced degeneracy and a connoisseurs swivel hips.

Tony Ventresca: I vote for Flex Luthor, because he looks just like the cartoon douchebag that is at the bottom-right of this comments page. I also vote for Jennifer, because she’s got the look I like but will never have, and because she’s got muscle on those upper arms (no matronly arms on this one!).

justadouchalo: Flex Luthor and Jennifer for the weekly. Flex for giving us tennisball bicep, eye makeup and stupid face. Jenn for giving us ‘most expensive first date’ and a troublesomely persistent burning sensation when we urinate.

DarkSock: Sumbitch is so wide he has to sleep in a cul de sac.

Whoop-di-douche: FLEX and his HOTTIE have the strength to wipe out the rest of the competition this week. And by strength I mean exhibitionistic testosterone poo-poo making whoopie with estrogenic woo-woo.

Crucial Head: He’s so wide he works part time as a concrete tilt-panel for an office building in Calabasas. In the evening he’s employed as a roof truss at the new Cowboy’s Stadium. He has to roll on the ground to get his clothes on. When he pumps weights on the bench press, he has to weld sixteen bars together and lay down on the tarmac of an aircraft carrier.

scrotum pole: Flex appears to have blown out blood vessels while flexing for his pic. I give him credit for the effort. I give Jennifer credit for her lovely smile and her fine, understated boobies.

Guy LaDouche: He makes me ponder whether to commit seppuku or deliver him to the woodchipper ala Fargo. She is a lovely dish of delicate creme brule that I wouldn’t tap with a spoon for fear of destroying the perfection of its creation.

Albert Eindouche: As the world turns and we find more and more disturbing examples of scrote there will always be a place for that base, nay, let’s say elemental douche that is the Jersey Guido. He is the harbinger of all that is black and sad. And by harbinger I mean “You STD riddled, roided out, sloped forehead having douchebag!”

Hong Kong Douchey: You could break up concrete with that beak on Flex and his cranium wouldn’t notice the difference. There is hope for Jennifer. If she is saved now she could be the hot mom in the suburbs who loves her kids and slightly nerdy husband completely since she knows what types of ‘bags are out there.

Snoop Douchey Bagg: Having just gotten back from a week of drinking and gambling and whoring in Vegas, (where the ‘bag virus has gotten so strong that now almost every hotel has its own in-house 24-hour tattoo shop), I’m going to vote for the old-school pud-wankery of Flex. Also, Jennifer makes my pants happy.

Medusa Oblongata: Gorgon Country is 100% behind Flex Luthor. From the neck up, he looks like Sylvester Stallone in full drag makeup. From the neck down he looks like a shaved bison. I pray a steroid-induced aneurysm keeps him from impregnating the lovely Jennifer, whose warm smile and firm, shapely biceps have be-slickied my undies.

Abdouchah the Butcher: I’m casting my vote for Flex & Jennifer despite the fact that Simona gets the nod for Hottest Hott. Flex has that uberchoad air of superiority and disdain for the hott, the smug & proud pursed lips of a truly choice ‘Bag. Flex Luthor & Jennifer FTW.

Exactly, nicely parsed, fellow hunters. And it’s important that while new ‘bag/hott formulation permutations like Jed the Creepy Wankscrote and Penny are mocked, the classic Jerz Pud still has a place at HCwDB. Coming in a close second, that ridic tatt of Crayon Gary and Simona:

Deltus: Gotta go with Crayon Gary and Simona on this one. He isn’t just a douchestain, he’s a stain on the fabric of humanity, on my very soul. Dumb fauxhawk, mandana, Skittles beads holding what I think is an infant pacifier (SRSLY?!?!), shirtlessness and, of course, the stupidest chest tatt I’ve ever seen. Simona is beautiful island/vaguely exotic hott perfection who knows she could ask you to do anything and you would. His touching her brings me to the greatest boiling point of rage and willingness to kill.

Bag Margera: Crayon Gary. I don’t think grubby e-tards get enough praise on this website. And by praise I mean castration.

mr. reeve: My vote is for Crayon Gary and Simona. #1 Simona is hot but she needs to be careful when she attends concerts in the California desert. Predator-Bag has been known to be looking for young hot latina girls…..aren’t we all though? #2 Wanna-B-Bag is totally irritating. This dick wants to be a douche but won’t commit. Do it or not Crayon Gary! No one likes a half ass effort for Christ sakes!

Jacques Doucheteau: Crayon Gary best represents existentialism in Aristotelian causality of the three nominees this week. The yellow mandanda is his telos, yet it also creates meaning for the wearer. He exemplifies the great words of Ortega y Gasset: “Yo soy yo y mi mandana amarillo,” whilst still maintaining a paradoxical cuasal relation (which came first, the yellow mandana or the douchebag?). This series of propositions is what Aristotle referred to as infinite douchegress.

Mr. Bagoo: Crayon Gary wins because he is an asshat.

massengill: Simona is actually a Lakota Sioux tattoo artist whose given name is Dances with Twinks.

Baleen: I’d like to put Gary in a ring with an overweight schizo mentally retarded man boy hopped up on angel dust just to teach him a lesson.

bigphatnottadouche: Crayon maybe a happy looking harmless douche, but he is still a douche. Simona is Hott in a dirty kind of way.

Claude Douchenburg: A foot up for Gary and a thumbs up for Simona. And by foot up, I mean way up south of Garys taint and by thumbs up I mean both, where ever you want them my sweet Simona.

Douche Dastardly: And let’s talk about that tattoo. It looks like something I saw on the wall of the bathroom of a really bad Mexican restaurant where I had the misfortune of ordering the rancheros diablos and in turn made a Jackson Pollack in there toilet.

Indeed, DD, and I sense a potential 2010 Douchie Award nom for that tatt, fake or not. Coming in a solid but distant third, The Suckerfish:

THEONETRUEDOUCHE: Suckerfish. The balding hair- the fugly face, that huge forehead, the pink shirt- yes he is the douche of the week

Evil_Readheaded_Stepchild: Suckerfish is so douchey he makes me want to slap all straight women just on the off-chance that one of them might someday date him. I sentence Melanie to a firm and bouncy paddling for getting that close. Her safeword will be ‘Bronzer’.

Douchey Lewis and the News: Melanie and the Suckerfish ftw. He looks like the fluke worm monster from the X Files episode The Host.

I thought the Suckerfish would find more support. But this was classic Jerz Pud week at HCwDB. Lets let The Motley Douche take us home this week:

Gotta go with FL & J this week. The kissy lips are bad enough, but add to that the unnecessary bicep flex and that seals the deal. Look, Flex…you’re obviously in shape. Good for you and your steroid dealer. The only thing you prove by showing us is that you are complete and total douche. You deserve to be mocked to the fullest extent of our collective abilities. Once Jen wakes up from her rohypnol-induced stupor and realizes she’ll never be able to wash the spray tan stain off her hand, she’ll need a shoulder to cry on. And I will offer mine, whilst daydreaming of days past when the world was much less infected with the global scrote virus.

Well said and gold stars to everyone. A solid Weekly winner with true hottie/douchey dialectics. And so we celebrate with sugar cereal. And unshaven stubble.

HCwDB of the Week

This week’s selection of buffet-style schroad/hott involves classic douche/boob cohabit. As such, it’s a pretty tough choice. Here’s your noms:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Crayon Gary and Simona

C.G. is a perfect illustration of hottie/douchey dialectics.

As Marx explained in his inversion of Hegelian power structures, class and societal fracture, the circulation of douchebag meaning becomes amplified when in the presence of quality boobie suckle. The tainshmeg can only define itself by that which it shmegs its taint on.

And that tatt, real or not, is uberpud.

I’m working on a theory about the act of body marking, primitivity and the split in the psyche between the real and the virtual causing a need to reinscribe the body through marking.

But that lecture is for another time. Today is the Weekly. And Crayon Gary is punch worthy, while Simona asks me softly and in a lilting voice to massage her thigh muscles with chicken fat and a soft boiled egg.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Flex Luthor and Jennifer

Flex Luthor hatches his grand scheme to capture Boobiewoman!!

Okay, enough with the comic book riff. Cuz I was a Green Arrow fan, myself.

Flex Luthor brings classic roided up Jerzbaggery. And dammit, classic Jerz poo still rankles me, even if in the age of “Jersey Shore” it seems less mockworthy than it once did.

And lets not forget Flex and Jen’s Beefy #2.

Flex and Jen used to be that classic Jerz Douche / Hot Chick combo that fueled the site.

But in an age of ear and chest scarring, giant ear holes and Jed The Creepy Wankscrote, maybe we cannot un-see this next generation of douche.

And Jennifer is delightful purity drinkable leg water.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Melanie and the Suckerfish

Melanie rounds out the third of our three quality of H.C. sides of the hottie/douchey equation with curvy aplomb.

And by curvy aplomb, I mean, well, curvy aplomb.

I would pooch. And lick. And then tap dance.

The Suckerfish is an exploding head of douchewankery.

He deserves mock for the face. The hair. The shirt. And even by looking at a pic, we all know that his feet smell like gouda.

Together, they make poo.

(Dis)honorable mention to Militia Max, who, as Wheezer so rightly puts out, features Meghan from last June’s Kitchenbag. Meghan loves her Jerz Douche beefy. Also (dis)honorable mention to the KFC Scrotal Melt Sandwich and the hilariously clueless Crowdbag.

But them’s your three.

Now I turn to you. I want you. I need you. To pee on their rug. Which tied the room together.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

Ask DB1: Are Bodybuilders Bodybags?

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DB1,

Sincerely MJS.

—-

We define douchebaggery as the transformation of the body into spectacle to attract attention, so by that definition, yes, anyone who excessively works on their body beyond the point of good health or physique, qualifies.

However, as we see with Lumpy here, and his distant cousin, the late, great Pumpy, good humor and good cheer can go a long way towards mitigating any inherent douche classification.

So I will say yes, extreme bodybuilders start at a basic stage-1 ‘bag status. But can redeem themselves if there are no other scrotal signifiers present, and they exhibit self deprecating humor about their own cartoonish bodies.

And I see you too, Stacy. The pinch you just felt on your buttcheek? Wasn’t me. Okay, it was.

HCwDB of the Month: Grillzilla and Lady Gwendolyn

While the three other contestants in the Monthly brought consistency, multiple douche pics and variations on scrotal theme, Grillzilla and Lady Gwen powered by them on the strength of one single, toxic, hottie/douchey pic. Which is pure testament to its power of pudd.

The voters speak:

Dicy: I’m going to have to go with Grillzilla. He pisses me off with his stupid teeth and lame ass sleeve. How the hell does he even get girls to come near him?Also Lady Gwendolyn is all that is good and sweet in the world. I would be her best friend and ask her to have a sleepover at my place so I could French braid her lovely hair.

Amerigo Vesdouchey: My vote goes to Grillz and Gwen. By far, this pic exhibits the most powerful dichotomy. And by powerful, I mean depressing, perplexing, confounding, aggravating, and nauseating. Gwen appears to be a sweet woman of sound judgement and above averages looks, but somehow is impressed by this putrid clown. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry; so I cry.

End the Haberdouchery: Grillz. Because it’s 2010 and even Paul Wall thinks grillz are stupid now. He has moved on to icing out codpieces.

Fatness: Grillz is what should be at the bottom of a toilet bowl.

Medusa Oblongata: This time I must go with the pairing that confuses my lizard brain the most and that would be Grillzilla and Lady Gwendolyn. It’s like a grizzly bear with ballet slippers. It doesn’t fit and the delicate little thing is going to get shredded. Grillzilla FTW.

Flounder: all I see when I look at this choad is a horrible parody of the Bond villain, Jaws. All we can hope for is Richard Kiel to track him down and show him how a proper metal mouth man should behave. Then like in Moonraker he will fall for and save poor Lady Gwendolyn from her fate of being sacrificed for an new Affliction shirt.

Anonne Huntress: Grillz has to take it. Your kind of doucheosity, you can mostly wash off or hide, but the stuff Grillz did to his mouth and ear are just offensive. Grillz for the monthly.

Scott: Grillzilla. And his dentist.

Wedgie: Grillie gets the nod in a squeaker over Quiz Roid. And by squeaker, I mean that high-pitched, Chuck-Mangione-hitting-a-high-C-note fart.

Big: After an extensive period of “consideration”, I have to go with Grillz, because his pained smirk actually makes it seem his alloyed dental work actually causes him physical discomfort, which I can only celebrate with a vote for his exalted ludicrosity.

Em: Grillz. I puke, therefore he’s dousche.

Mr. Scrotato Head: Grillz are about as fresh as sleeveless flannel shirts, zebra seat covers in a ‘92 Honda Civic, or Lady Gaga’s gooder. And nothing says douchebag more than photobombing the camera with your lips peeled back like fruit leather and your sweet hotness playing “Deal or No Deal” with the pointy finger and all. Because, you know, under normal circumstances you don’t even realize someone has a grill in until the stink of last week’s calcified leftovers hits you in the face like a corner kick from David Beckham. Oh wait, he’s done…and SO ARE GRILLZ!

Well dissected, team. The pure wrongness of sweet, ass-graby worthy feminine purity and asstastic pseudo-rebellious suburban doucheclownery was too much to ignore. Coming in a solid second place, the Euro performativity of Quiz Roid and Princess Lickmah:

El Caganer: Princess Likmah is the gal for me. No “look” is too ridiculous for her to find it un-attractive. I now have found a use for that robot costume, I made out of carboard and tin foil. Princess Lickmah and the Quiz man for the win.

Mr. White: I’ll go with Quizroid, because Princess Lickmah makes my pants hobbit feel like a mighty ent.

Justin: Quiz Roid FTW! You can’t make the “tough-guy” face whilst donning fuckin’ candy-raver bracelets, Quizzy. ‘Nuff said.

I thought Quiz Roid had a shot at the Yearly with his epic run of stone-face, but it was not to be. Coming in third and fourth (dis)respectively, but with solid support, were David Crapperfield and Rachel Hottowitz, and Captain Rehab and Luane, who were too skanked out to really contend.

Horace Dangleballs: David Crapperfield and Rachel. All worthy contestants this month, but the bizarre combo of an over-methadoned Ray Liotta zombie, plus the voodoo mama that made him, plus Rachel being the only female with an inkling of fear or distaste in her expression… how could I go against all that?

Jurassic Douche: David Crapperfield is my pick. That is what happens when the average fratdouche is fed a diet of Douche Nine enriched corn and beans.

jonezy: Luane and the uber-rott stank infested waters of Captain Rehab for the Monthly. Although her boobs are spaced like down-syndrome eyes, her Hott is still enticing, no matter how skanktastic. Have American Indians not suffered enough that these douches must desecrate their traditions in a rude attempt at spectacle and “style”?

Cock-a-doodle-douche: What I don’t like about voting for Crapperfield is that it might result in him sticking around. I’d much rather make him disappear. Regardless, I give my vote to Crapperfield. Ugh.

Colossus of Choads: Captain FTW. He’s the only one who clearly is douched-to-the-nines in conflict with his environment, he has no intention of going swimming, and that’s just sickening.

Fat, Drunk and Douchey: David Crapperfield FTW. Sometimes a douche is more than the sum of his parts. And somethimes he is exactly the sum of his parts. And his parts scream Douchebag!

little beaver: Captain and Luanne. I want to invite Luanne to the Tribeca film festival. While I don’t have tickets, I do have access to a Subaru Tribeca. We could watch movies on DVD in a secluded parking spot. I imagine that after a night in a car with Luanne, it would need to be reported stolen and torched on the side of the road. Isn’t that what insurance is for y’all.

Nicely played, little beav. But the power of douche grills in the presence of sweet suckle thigh is what this site is all about. Lets let doucheywallnuts take us home:

It’s got to be Grillzilla…I didn’t vote for him as a DBotW, but I am a big enough man to admit my mistake. As I see him juxtaposed against the other colossal douches he is clearly worthy of the DBotM honor. He has the body, tatts, gear, shirt, accessories and bleeth – in short he surpasses all the other candidates, worthy as they may be. Crapperfield is a close second, and perhaps if he wore an Affliction shirt or some other label to give him the mark of the douchebag he may have gotten my vote. Quiz doesn’t have the build and neither does Capt Rehab, and Rehab’s chick is more bleech than bleeth. And so it’s Grillzilla for DBotM and an early nominee for DBotY.

Well argued, DW. And while the voting was light since the site moved (many are still updating RSS feeds), a worthy contender to take on Stackhouse in the Yearly has been found. Grillzilla is all that is the monstrous id of douchescrotery. And your humble narrator will now gnaw on Gwen’s shoulder in celebration of her victory. And by victory, I mean humpty hump.

Natalie Tags a Jersey Shore Douche

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So, my best ladies and I were at an ed hardy store opening party in cancun during spring break aka douchebag mecca when some overly spray tanned guy with a tribal band tattoo accidentally ripped out one of liz’s (the hot chick pictured with Jersey Shore’s dj pauly d) extensions with his nipple ring (obviously, people are walking around shirtless, it’s mexico). she threw her cup of hypnotiq in his face and screamed “f*ck you, you f*cking dragonslaying ez-tagger!”

– Natalie

—-

Early candidate for Hieroglyphic Email of the Year.

HCwDB of the Month

The HCwDB of the Month. The moment we select our next finalist for HCwDB of the Year to join the inglourious doucheterd, Stackhouse. Which coupling is most foul and heinously devoid of merit to warrant Monthly victory(loss)?

Here’s your finalists:

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: Captain Rehab and Luana

Luane gets around, and around and around.

Ubiquitous Luane even swam away with Corporal Faux after her win.

So our first coupling offers us a pic of ubertaintosity detracted by what we can only generously describe as a “skank hott.”

As you all know, true hottie/douchey HCwDB Enlightenment occurs only when the sweetest of gnawable suckle thigh is tainted by the greasiest of colonic clownitude.

This pic may not have the purest of dialectics to meditate and ruminate.

But it does have Cleavite Boobies. And librarian glasses.

And the nastiest water this side of a Turkish bath.

And really, the giant Close Encounters Hair Peak in water really needs to be appreciated for the choice of spectacle-hair in a location in which swimming implies the hair will get wet and therefore lose any shape intended for it.

This deserves to be fully appreciates for its choadwankitude.

Anyone can grease up hair at the clubs. Only the true anusdouche can do so in a public swimming environment.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: Grillzilla

Some posit that potential Rockstar Leniency Rule might be invoked, given this turd’s role in some band I’ve never heard of. Lets shut this down right now.

No RLR granted. Period. End of story.

This is douchosity outside of performativity, and deserves full mockage.

Unlike Luane, Lady Gwnedolyn brings sweet, innocent sweetness innocence to the equation.

As such, we read her poems by Wordsworth to her as we lie under willow trees, and then we hump her purse like a cracked up beagle in heat when she’s buying an ice-cream from the local street vendor, Juan.

And Juan rolls his ice-cream stand away as quickly as possible.

Because he’s disturbed by our purse humping.

And can you blame him?

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: David Crapperfield and Rachel Hottenstein

2010 has seen a distinct theatrical quality brought to ubersquat strategy to fondle the neck nuzzle hotts like Rachel here.

Yet, as with Grillzilla, no RLR is granted.

This is theatrical magical douchebaggery.

But it is every bit as mockworthy as the Orange uber-guidos of yesteryear.

And Rachel is delightful real world suckle thigh.

She is therefore to be appreciated with applause and knee fondle.

I have nothing else to add to this pic.

But I still can’t align images properly.

So I have to keep writing text to create enough of a block to insert the next pic.

Letting me HTML my blog is like letting a chimp fly the space shuttle.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: The Quizzical Hemorrhoid and Princess Lickmah

The Quiz Roid made a strong uberdouchey impression in early 2010. Witness the run:

Makin’ the Douche Face. Popping a squat. Party Pile.

The run of stone-face consistency rivals some of our classic Hall of Scrote members like Peaches and E-Blo.

But the run, like DiMaggio’s 57 game hit streak, eventually had to come to an end, and it did when Quiz Roid broke out the grin with the Baja Boyz.

Quiz Roid, like David Crapperfield, is performative taintlickery.

The Princess, like the Lady, is Neverending Story hott all growns up.

Some argue performativity detracts from the douchey spectacle.

I say, “Ha!” Because I like to make short, brief, unexplained grunt statements.

But is it enough to win the monthly?

Vote, as always, in our brand spankin’ new comments threads.

HCwDB of the Week

Your humble narrator is completing a relaxing weekend in S.F. as we gear up for the premiere of Season #2 of Is She Really Going Out With Him? today (and every weekday) at 6pm on MTV.

The tiny, bouncy, curvy S.F. hotties are pure champagne supernova. And for that, we celebrate with cilantro.

But I am not here just to pimp my show and praise the S.F. hotts. I am here to give you your weekly finalists. Because that’s what I do. Here they is:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: David Crapperfield and Rachel

Absurdist 19th Century dress-up would normally be too costume-y to fall into a true douche category.

But D.C.’s guyliner, Mr. T bling and ridic tatts are classic schlord. So he makes the cut.

And Rachel is hot, naughty, delights in pillow spankings, and hates her parents for never acknowledging her early interest in dance.

Thus, a Weekly is born.

And by born, I mean leather wrist-sleeves and an ab tumor so potent it just ate Cincinnati.

Also, Rache’s shoulder is gnaw.

Not just any gnaw.

Uber-gnaw.

I would gnaw.

Mole.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Tony Crapachino and Elle, Sue and Jen

From the Friday Haiku comes this pic of three squeaky clean tasty All-American hott burgers and one greasy side order of fries.

‘Bout time we got a little “Wild n’ Crazy Guy” retro toolery all up in this place.

The ladies are classic real-world hottness.

The kind you stutter and stammer over, then make out in the car. Then praise Vishnu and sacrifice a goat to Ganesh just for the pleasure of fondling her outer thighs.

Tony Crapachino tapdances on twaddle.

And you can quote me on that.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Marco Chinholio and Charo, aka Fake Doogie Poo

A bit overlooked when it first ran, Marco Chinholio is all that is creep-taint about global toad.

Charo is all that is curvy smirking smugness that you’d put up with in the vain hope of a brief yet primal fully-clothed hump by the bathrooms at 2:17 am.

Truthfully, M.C wouldn’t have had a shot except that I’m convinced that if you stare at that chin fung long enough, you’ll see the face of Gary Busey.

And who am I to mess with the face of Gary Busey?

Add in the cartoon penguin dog-tag, and it’s Weekly worthy indeed. (Dis)honorable mention to Billy Barue Bores Bethany, Chia Guido (with uber-hott blonde), the whiny takedownery of Monchichi and the roided up pecs of Arm Phalli.

But only three may enter. And only one toxic coupling may rise to the top (bottom).

Which of the three? Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

HCwDB of the Week: The Quizzical Hemmorhoid and Princess Lickmah

douche-face. Popping a squat. Party pile. Add it up with the Eurohottery of the Princess of Poosia, and it’s a weekly winner. And yes, even finally breaking into a smile with the Baja Boyz.

The voters speak:

Em: Being European meself and thus having seen in its fullblownness the immense douchery that is currently ongoing on my side of the pond, I must go for The Q.H; if for nothing else then at least for the safety of the princess. She is ohsomuch in danger of being completely smothered with ‘bag and I will never forgive myself should any harm come to her. The pool girls may very well be lost causes and the sweetness that is Karen is obviously holding her own. But the princess! Won’t somebody PLEASE think of the princess?

boatbutter: Quizzical. No question. His Eurobagginess is accentuated by his disdain for ice cubes, hot water and quality toilet paper.

Anonymous: Quizroid by a mile, the smugness of this tanned tadpole could have been excused as a drunken one off but the plethora of evidence against him cannot be denied, FQR!

doucheywallnuts: QuizHem gets the vote. The face and the physique are pure douche with a unique enough twist to set him apart from the other no-doubt douchey, but ultimately unremarkable/non-descript competitors. And Princess Lickmah is bleeth-a-licious.

Motherscratcher: Gotta go with QH. I hate his face. Hate it. I can’t even think. His face blocks all other thought than “I need to punch that douche in the face repeatedly.” And hold your camera staight asshole. Christ.

Scooby Douche: Hemmoroid FTW. He has that “je ne sais quoi” that distinguishes all larger-than-life douchbags, that belief that they are God’s gift to humanity in general, and tasty hotts in particular. And all that shit on his wrist is so stupid. Princess Lickmah is miles and miles of smooth, delicious skin. Close inspection also indicates some ample boobies as well. What sublime rainy day memories we could make, given a few hours, some chocolate syrup and a banjo.

Wedgie: Quiz Roid. ‘Cause he’s too sexy for your party. Too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan.

dbBen: By winning the weekly, it increases the possibility of us one day hearing: “Help me db1, you’re my only hope.” Uttered in an endless loop by Lickmah’s hologram. My only request is that I can be your wookie friend and gently nuzzle and purr against Princess Lickmah’s discarded stilletos.

Mr. Choad’s Wild Ride: QH is an easy weekly. That his entire wardrobe consists of tanktops should be a clue that he deserves it. The hipster bling is present. What is it that really puts him over the top? Ace Ventura Hair. His drinking-beer-through a-purple-straw hott is also the best of the bunch this week. He’s tanned, greasy and making a stupid kissy face. For this, QH FTW.

The Reverend Doom: Q.H. as he kicks kittens and punches puppies in addition to looking like a complete ass with his pucker lips. Princess Lickmah is smokin and should be carried my fortress of solitude…

Anonymous: Fists or QH? Could be the most difficult choice yet on HCWDB. Fists are empty the pool for sanitation purposes gross but QH…he needs to be punched in the face, hard, right now. QH for the win

ImageWrangler: Rhoid Rhoid, All null and void, He’s wiggin’ he’s wiggin’

ehcuodouche: Ima give QH the nod this week. He has all the douche signifiers, but they’ve been tweaked for Europeal. The Ed Hardy shirt is replaced by a quasi-Hardy design with the scooped front showing off his bizarre, hairless, burn-victim chest. The dog tags are replaced with some sort of double-pendant thing. The huge watch/wristdana is now some sort of beaded gypsy wristdana thing. The blowout is replaced with a Europoof. The hott is replaced with a hott I’d give free English lessons to in exchange for sharing the double-bed in my studio apartment.

Mr. White: Quizzical Hemorrhoid takes it. He clearly practiced that face in the mirror to achieve that consistency. He PRACTICED, people.

Vander (Bro Nye the Science Guy): Even though fists of poo is horrendous, My vote is with, and always will be QH. QH is enough to make my blood boil, then I look at Princess Lickmah and my blood freezes. She is stop dead in your tracks insta-boner hott. She is my princess, and eventually will be my queen.

Well said team, it’s about time we’ve had a true Euro-DJ Party Couple make the Weekly. But the Double Flush of Vegas toiletry also found support:

The Blessed Scrotini: The Double Flush FTW. I find them extra douche despite the lack of extra douchal signifiers that others such as QH displays. I can just imagine how douchey they would be with these extras and it easily puts them above QH in every way if they had them…

Hong Kong Douchey: Fists FTW. They are the reason that the Morning After Pill was invented.

Douchesquire: Double flush ftw, as not even a triple Lindy flush of epic proportions could get that crap down the drain. They fill me with ire.

Anonymous: It HAS to be Fists of Poo. They look like ‘Kid and Play’ got raped by Christian Audigier

…and you will know us by the trail of the douche: Wonderdouche Twins AKA The Double Twins AKA Fists of Poo have obviously activated their un-magincal douche powers and those powers are unmatched in douchetude.

Yet poor Yellowlips and Sophomore Karen, coming in a distant third. Regular party douchery was no match for Vegas and Euro uberpoo. However lets let just a douchalo take us home:

Using the Socratic Method, that is, asking oneself the question: “given the opportunity, which one of these would you run over first?” Hands down it would be QH. However, if I hadn’t wrecked the front end of the Nova hopping up the curb to plow down the ‘roid, I’d roll over the Fists and Yellowlips, in that order.

Well done JaD, and to all ‘bag hunters who took the time to vote. That’s how we do things up here in HCwDB. No simple “vote” button. You gotta justify the tag. And that’s how it should be. Quizroid and Lickmah for the Monthly, and me for sugar cereal.

HCwDB of the Week

Congrats to the New Orleans Saints and all that. But we got work to do people. There are schroads licking perfectly tasty hottness as we speak. They must be mocked. And by mocked, I mean categorized. And then mocked. Here’s your finalists:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: The Quizzical Hemorrhoid and Princess Lickmah

The Q.H. is one of those rare partybags. The type who amazingly manages to make the same stupid douche-face in every pic.

Even when popping a squat or makin’ the party pile.

His greased up Eurotaint is garbagian in its poocrappery.

Yeah, I said both “garbagian” and “poocrappery” in the same sentence.

Up yours, Merriam and Webster.

Mmmm… Euro hottness….

Princess Suckle Thigh is quality Italian-French hybridity. I blame her for the 100 years war. In my pants.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Double Flush, aka Fists of Poo

About time we get some classic Vegas douche-poo back up on the site.

Here we have two extremely sweet, high quality, hot chicks.

They’re smiling.

They desire the DB1 to gnaw on their ankles.

And for that, I would buy them each a car.

And then we have two Vegas “Fists of Poo.” Tatted up, greased up, large watch and sunglasses wearing crappogians.

But what takes this pic to Weekly status?

The Sideburns Money Clip ™. As seen on TV.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Yellow Lips and Sophomore Karen

At first, these two may seem unlikely HCwDB of the Week contestants.

Look again.

They may not be over the top hottie/douchey spectacle. But for real world Frat assholitry, Yellow Lips earns his slot in the Weekly.

Note Y.L.’s shirt print, nuclear sunglasses, chest reveal and masterful Kissy Lips.

Top it off with some crappy Busch beer, and this is a Frat party poor Sophomore Karen will be in therapy for years trying to forget.

And Sophomore Karen more than holds up her end of the real-world sexy sultry, hottness. With barely any makeup on, she’s already quality sweets.

I would gnash angrily on her childhood teddy bear, “Boo,” with my teeth until she called campus security and had me escorted off the premises.

(Dis)honorable mention to Slick James, Sticks McHead, Mopey the Beanstalk, the weirdness of Alice in Choaderland and the uber-hottness of Sun Sandra (see you at the Douchies, my dear) and The ‘Bag Face.

But three couplings may enter. Only one may (de-)ascend. Which?

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.