HCwDB of the Week: Trenton Edition
Three enter. Only one advances.
Yes, ‘bags, ‘bag hunters, hotties and choadscrotes, before we get to the smorgasboard of new pics I have in the hopper for this week, it’s time for the HCwDB of the Week contest. And we’re going it Trenton Style. This week’s ‘bag-off features three surprisingly classic selections of hottie/douchey wrongness. Well, two classics. And one pic that’s just, well, absolutely surreal. I speak, of course, of the legendary Oompa Prompa.
But I get ahead of myself. And by get ahead of myself I mean my shirt smells like moldy cheese. That’s what I get for a three day weekend. Speaking of cheese, Lets get to the goods. And by goods, I mean cheese:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Syndrome
It’s not just that he looks like a Pixar animated bad guy, or that his mug is smirking with the greased up chin stubbley half-grin we have long established on this site as what I like to call “Classic ‘Bag.” And like any classic, it still delivers. And be delivers I mean makes me slam my head in a car door. But it’s not just his choady swill that makes this a worthy pic.
It’s that tall glass of Hot Chocolate. Megods she makes my toenails curl.
Sexy dress, sweet smile. As always in the Weekly we must weigh both the douchitude of the douchebag and the arousing aroma of hotness. This pic has both. All that and a douchetacular wrist-band on Syndrome’s “gun” hand. A worthy competitor for the Weekly, indeed.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Oompa Prompa
Oompa Prompa is very orange.
His visage is already iconic and legend here at HCwDB and will grow moreso with every spiked follicle.
And while I worry about contract hits on my life for featuring potentially “connected” offspring on the site, I’ll console myself with the fact that Tony Soprano seems to have a pretty good sense of self deprecating humor. And since I believe everything I see on T.V., I’m going to assume others have that same ability to laugh at all things douchey, even the self inflicted kind.
So again, please do not hurt me. I have deep and profound respect for New Jersey. I’m a huge douchebag myself, only without hot chick. Do not seek violent retribution on my face. Instead, pity me. For I am Douchebag #1.
That being said, Orange. Orange.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Luck of the Baggish
Frost-tipped Douchey Charms, they’re Baggishly delicious!
It seems like all three of our ‘bags this week have left the realm of realistic human portrayal and entered a new zone. The only word for it is the “Douchetoon Zone.” They’ve slipped off the reservation and gone into pure drawn character mode.
‘Baggish is fantastic Jersey shore A-List scroad. The type that even Bruce Springsteen couldn’t write a nostalgic song about. Hottie on the right may be inflated, but has a sweet smile and looks like the type I could discuss Proust with over a glass of Pino Noir. And by Pino, I mean something something.
So there’s they are. Which’ll it be? ‘Baggish? Oompa? Or Syndrome?Line ’em up, and pick one.
I put it to you, Greg. Isn’t this an indictment of our entire American douchebaggery? Yes. Yes it is.
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
SwimDouche
Memorial Day is a pretty somber holiday, so I wasn’t sure I should post anything. But then I figured SwimDouche might be okay. Because he’s sort of red, white and blue. In a HCwDB sort of way.
So since mocking douchescrotes and the hotties who love them probably isn’t too appropriate, regular posting, as well as the HCwDB of the Week contest, will resume tomorrow.
Have a sober and reflective Memorial Day. But if you want to sneak a comment in mocking tight vinyl scrotae here, and the perfection of his hottie, it might be okay.
Sunday Stan
Sunday Stan, the Douche Warrior, goes into battle with full ‘Bag armaments. Like the killer awakening before dawn, he puts his ‘bling on. Multicolored faux hawk. Carefully plucked chin pubes. Assorted ironic t-shirt collection. Expensive designer coat.
When Sunday Stan is ready, he walks on down that hall.
“Hottie?”
“Yes, Stan?”
“I want to headbutt you.”
He makes his move, stashes the Corona behind his back. And like a wildebeast in the jungle, she falls under his douchey powers.
I would ice skate naked to Mozart just for the chance to share sno-cones in a thunderstorm with her older less attractive sister.
Spot Pumpkindouche
Since there seems to be a bit of a clamor for an A-List HCwDB pic this weekend, I’ll post this genius pic that I was saving for Monday.
Back to basics, baby.
A maelstrom of boobs and choad. Pillows and poo.
A brunette hottie on the left I would drink iocane powder for while fencing left handed. Two more slices of hottie bread at the bottom that I would lightly toast with powdered sugar and jam. Two peroxide blondes who may be a little large for my tastes, but would still break me in half and leave me asking for more.
Oh yeah, and Pumpkinbag.
Doctor Evil ‘Bag.
Eurodouche Austrian prince ‘Bag.
There it is. The faint hint of bile in the back of my throat.
All the emotions come together to form the perfect nexus of Hottie/Douchie wrongness. Arousal, rage, confusion, disorientation and a glass of iced tea.
Why iced tea? Because it’s delightfully refreshing.
Ask DB1
dogboy writes in:
——
DB1,
Mr. bones’ call for a mistrial of dolphinbag yesterday makes me wonder whether douchebag identification, and hopefully eradiation, is science or politico-social art. Is it a democratic process of consensus building and judgment in a somewhat less than congenial forum by spiky peers in hopes of making a better society? And by making a better society I mean ridding us of these stinking turds.
Or is it a cold, hard, but growing, science of tagging, identification and classification of disgusting nutsacks and the symbiotic, hot, sweet honeys in their environs in hope discovering a cure? And by cure I mean ridding us of these stinking turds.
Either way, this site is still gd funny.
Help me understand, great one. And by great one I mean . . .
dogboy
——
Solid question, dogboy. As we seek to parse and classify the various stages, levels and permutations of ‘Bag in the increasingly fetid swampland that is the modern hottie/douchey plague, we must understand that our endeavor is not majoritarian but scientific in nature. The democratic process aids and abets the boundries of the discourse through a Millsian framework of competitive argument, but the proofs require a more detailed and objective list of criteria. In other words, once the parameters of the douche manifest have been established in each subcategory, those systems of ranking become fixed as defining tropes.
This is not to say that there isn’t an aesthetic component to the analysis. Some ‘Bags feature an unclassifiable quality, an essence du baggage if you will that rises above any specific signifiers, like Bling, facial pubes, popped collar, etc. In this way, ‘bag hunting becomes a form of artistic expression of equal importance to any scientific classification.
So in this sense, tagging the perfect Hottie/Douchey combo is both scientific classifiable but also artistic and aesthetically driven. But not necessarily majoritarian or democracy based as a driving trope of the study.
The Douches of Hazzard
Hoooooeeeyyy!!
Someone call Boss Hog!! Looks like we gotta oursels’ a coupla choads on the loose scarin’ up Daisy Duke and Mary Ann somethin’ fierce!!
Yeeeehaaa!! Where’s my rifle when I need it!!
Get ‘er done, douchebags!!
Crab Hands
Expression you never want to hear a hottie say, like “My pee smells funny.” or “I just put my tampons in the toaster by accident.”
Add, “Don’t look now, but Crab Hands are sprouting out of your back.”
I would read Kafka to orphans until they whimpered for the mother they never knew just for the chance to nibble on brunette’s car keys.
Axl Rosebag IV
I’ll take Axl Rosebag in the center square for the block, Tom.
This is the fourth appearance on the site for Mr. Rosebag, after making such previously disparate douche manifestations as seen here, here and here.
I think it’s safe to say he’s the Master of Doucheguises. The Houdini of Choad.
And damn. She is fantastic.
I would love his blond danish with a hot Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, then turn on Sportscenter.
The Next Morning
And lo, the early breaking dawn broke after a night of revelry.
Shafts of sunlight sliced through the dim blue dawn upon the partying youth.
They looked around, tired but satiated after a night of good times.
And then they saw what the late night darkness could hide no more.
She’d been up all night. Cuddling with a douchebag.
And lo, they were sad.
Dolphinbag Confirms Douchitude
PIC DELETED
While some debate broke out yesterday about Spin Doctors Superfly White Boy’s ‘Bag / Not a ‘Bag status, with opinion fairly evenly divided, new evidence has come to light that suggests that DolphinsBag is, indeed, a douche.
Note secondary pic confirmation of porn star facial pubes on the douche-face, ‘bag hand gesture#102, and perhaps the most alcoholic Asian girlfriend this side of Bai Ling at an HBO after-party.
To those who thought he was pimp stylin’ yesterday like mid 70s Richard Roundtree by way of late 90s Michael Rappaport, let today’s pic lay to rest any non-‘Bag suspicions you might have had.
The dude is choad.
