HCwDB of the Week: The Cowlicker
Fantastic discussion, dissection, debate and other words inspired by the letter “D” in the comments thread this week. But then, these were three HCwDBotW Award Winning candidates. But in the end the perfect curvy hotness of this toothy beauty and the bovine that’s licking her face were too much to overcome.
As bag em dano puts it:
Cowlick – This guy single handedly has irritated my acid reflux and manages to take douchery in a whole new direction. First off, if you’re going to use the Tan-in-a-can; don’t forget to do your hands.
If you insist on tweezing your eyebrows, try not to have them look like a 17-year-old Puerto Rican girl’s eyebrows. Do you have enough wax in your hair? Did you think there would be a blackout and might need a candle? This guy has so much wax in the hair it looks gray and on close examination you will see it is collecting lint.
The tongue….lets back up and zoom in. Do you see what I see? This douchebag has yellow teeth; now imagine the foul odor and germs he is depositing on her face. Ugh.
Nice smackdown bag ’em dano, and I was always a big fan of the show you draw your moniker inspiration from, “Douchenet.” Crankyprof concurred, chiming in with an eloquent haiku:
My vote: the Cowlick.
Greasy, lank, disgusting ‘bag.
Fetch me a crowbar.
Poetic. But both the Newlybags and the legend that is K-Scrote also found their share of admirers. And by admirers I mean Detroit baseball fans. douchey_dutchman makes the case for K-Scrote:
My vote has to go to Kevin McScrote.
The oil… the facial expression… the loyal Woo’s mounting a futile, bleethed-out attempt at defending the scrote using poorly formed sentences ending in prepositions… This contains all the ingredients of a douche-a-colada.
Indeed, Mortimer. Indeed. the arch douche agrees:
#3’s days of Bleething young girls are over. I know it, you know it, he knows it, and most importantly the hotties know it.
And as satisfying as drowning #1 would be, 2 more would spring up in his place. One would get the arm band; the other would get the fake diamond ear-ring. No, he is hydra of douchbags.
The win has to go to #3. It’s our duty to remove him, lest he gets that close to any other girls that hot (It think it’s the top button I am willing to pop off as soon as cowlick is gone) ever again. He won’t stop at her – we have to end it now. Hell, I’d go down without the scuba gear for that scrote.
The excellent verbal smackdown assassin baron von goolo lays into the pumped up Miami superstar with precision:
While Cowlick definitely has the highest db:hc dissonance ratio, McScrote just has too many other undeniable factors going for him. The hat tilt, the Elvis shades, that come hither Liza Minelli pout, the obvious age gap between him and the pulsating Pyramid of Bleeth before him. Note the way his overdeveloped pectorals and trapezius have entirely consumed his neck: perhaps in lieu of a flight response, McScrote can withdraw his head like a turtle, serving well to hide his bald spot when no baseball cap can be found. And that posture, asking us all to BEHOLD! like a feudal srotelord surveying his livestock. Nay! Not as a lord – as a GOD! McScrote is a Zeus of Douche, appearing before a writhing pile of Letas as a swan. An oily, Vanilla Ice of a swan, old enough to be their dad.
Wasn’t “Zeus of Douche” a late 70s Ted Nugent album? Regardless, excellent work BvG. Newlybags also received some excellent attention from jladouche, and by attention I mean purple lips:
If you wanna go for sleaze, Cowlick’s yer guy. But being a douchebag and being a sleazoid are only overlapping circles, my friend. NewlyBags combines the essentials – a certain flagrant idiocy, an armband, a boy-band pout, and WWF muscles exposed for maximum effect. Oh, and the Jersey grease that broadcasts its smell over digital miles. And the luscious, all-too hidden boobs.
But chozun sums up this week’s struggle between these three hottie/pukey inspired pics, as he reluctantly casts in with The Cowlick for the win.
#2: Let me think… Faux-Euro douche and milfy blondie with the gorgeous and her ever-so-tempting cleavite that I have seen ever. This pic infuriates me like no other. I want to punch the guy out right as he starts to stick out his tongue. Then I become sad at the stage 3 bleeth infection of the hottie and I weep openly. To think of the love we could have had…
Sigh.
Vote goes to #2 Cowlick.
It was a tough, epic battle this week. Props to the triumphant douche dissection and dissemination in the comments thread, everyone brought their A Game once to again. Next week (or two weeks?) will feature an fantastic monthly smackdown for the crown of HCwDB of the Month. But until then, good work everyone. Lets drag The Cowlick to the bottom of the ocean on our next scuba dive, swim back to the boat, pop open a PBR and feast on some lesser pics as our chaser.
Good work everyone.
The Flounder
Occasionally you can tell when an aspiring douchebag has no chance. None. Nada. Zip. This fresh off the boat New England flounder can’t even swim in the same stream as this flaxen haired salmon, let alone spawn.
Give it up, Flounder. Let a bear catch you in his gape and munch on you for lunch. Your effort to spawn may be yeoman’s work, but it won’t get you to the promised land.
The 'Bagrobe
PIC SADLY DELETED. SEE THRU SLIP HOTTIE’S HOTNESS REMAINS IMPRINTED ON MY SOUL.
Note to all hotties: The see-thru slip? Yes, please.
As to this chin fungusy douched out choad in the bathrobe, I’d lock him in the sauna until his man-boobs prune like dried raisins. He is cocktail swilling wrongness.
Then again, I’m Night Train swilling wrongness. So maybe I should start going out in my bathrobe. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be gang tackled by two cuties in underwear in a bar classy enough to feature red christmas lights under the tables. It could happen.
Mandana Boy
It’s hard to come down off the genius hair explosions of the last two pics, so I thought I’d go with a thematic answer, a response if you will to giant cactus-head explosions — the giant 8-head Mandana.
Megods that thing’s enormous. There’s enough cloth in that swath for Christo to wrap half of Italy.
She’s not the hottest cookie in the bakery, but there’s still enough frosting to make a tasty after dinner treat.
Hair Magnon
Some people like to wake up with a cup of quality coffee. That slow roasted kind whose aroma wafts through the house and perks you up. You sit down, read the paper, and sip away at that dark roasted delight while preparing for the day with excitment and purpose.
Me? I like to wake myself up by smacking myself in the face with the unholy wretchedness that is a true HCwDB spew.
Hair Magnon here likes to rent out his jaw as a garlic press.
Hottie has all sorts of beaded goodness going on.
Together, they make purple.
Like a ten thousand volt shot of caffeine right to the gut, I feel refreshed and ready to face the day. And by refreshed I mean alcoholic.
Douchsplosion
It’s as if millions of follicles suddenly cried out in gel and were suddenly silenced. I fear something ‘baggy has happened.
Cup o' Nip
It’s not enough that Matt Dillon’s douchey brother wants to show the world his nip. But did Molly Shannon hottie have to show up and enhance the spectacle?
Wait, what’s that? The nip wants to say something:
Nip: Hey guys, don’t forget to vote in the HCwD of the Week contest down below!!
Hey Nip, thanks for the plug. But is that all you have to say?
Nip: This oily scrote likes to fondle me while watching the Golden Girls on Nick at Nite.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
I haven’t seen a breast that flaccid, limp and pale since I had the chicken at Olive Garden. I don’t care how many free breadsticks and salad you get, honey, send it back. Send it back.
The Rorschach Test
There’s so many confusing aspects to this pic, it’s like one of those ink-blot rorschach pictures they use to help figure out your subconscious desires. Help me make sense of the following elements, and lets see what the test teaches us about ourselves:
1. Wanky college ‘bag with classic hipster ironic gas station t-shirt, Matrix sunglasses and mini-shocker hand gesture.
2. Super cutie stripper type displaying fantastic cleavite and a see through lace top.
3. HCwDB commingling taking place in what appears to be a furniture show room mixed with a giant erector set.
4. A wizened old dude, slumped on a couch in the background.
What is the backstory here? How does any of this make sense? Did Joe College ‘Bag wander into a furniture show room in between pre-med classes, only to discover couches being sold at a stripper convention?
I was trying to come up with a more complex explanation for the irrationality of this pic, but then I saw two fantastic chopstick legs, and now I want to dim sum those won tons until I’m hungry again in an hour.
'Bag / Not a 'Bag
And while you’re mulling over the HCwD of the Week, weigh in on this pic. Again I face myself with the conundrum that is douche-face, ie: the expression on a dude that causes me to involuntarily want to smack him in the nads with a five iron. Is douche-face enough to qualify one as ‘bag?
There is nothing inherently douchey about this putz, except for his douchey expression. Which is pretty damn douchebaguous. But enough to qualify? That’s up to you.
And no, we don’t need to vote on Captain Jack in the background. Sailor hat + stripey sub Izod Walmart shirt definitely qualifies for the ‘Bagling / Budding ‘Bag stage.
Dark haired sexy nurse type sends shivers up my lower torso like an overpriced Sharper Image device.
HCwDB of the Week: Scubadouche Edition
Another solid week of submissions, and I’m pleased to see the pics have been refocusing on two of the international capitals of hottie/douchey pairings, the Miami and the Jersey. Two fetid swamps that, while occasionally producing excellent Cuban food in the former, and the occasional singer/songwriter in the latter, have been grease generating douche powerhouses during the past fifteen years. They are Cities of International ‘Baggery. And in their honor, we dedicate this week’s HCwDB of the Week contest.
For that reason I dub this week’s contest Scubadouche. Before you cast your vote I want you to clear your mind and ask yourself this simple question: If you were about to go scuba diving, and could drag only one of these three to the bottom of the ocean with you on your dive, which one would it be?
Hold that thought, and lets get to the finalists:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: NewlyBags
NewlyBags are pure classic grade HC and DB swirl, right off the soft serve ice-cream truck of douchebaggery.
It’s not enough that Diamond Nick here sports the plucked eyebrows, muscle shirt and two tone stubble of a true Jerseyite ‘bag, nor that hottie makes me long to hear her talk about the sale at Nordstroms while lying next to me after we’ve performed coitus. It’s the dude stripping down in the back.
And this is an important subfactor of the merits and values of a HCwDB pic as we move forward. The ancillary cast of ‘bags. The action in the foreground and background. Not just the joy/pain of the gut-smack of the HC and DB, but what else the picture brings to round out the spew. And by spew I mean Puma arm bands. This is a worthy entry in the contest, and naked guy sends it to another level of wrong entirely.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Cowlick
I used the genius of the Cowlick for my “Welcome” email for newbies, but the merits of this unholy scrote and his gorgeous beau are well worthy of finalist status in any week’s HCwDB smackdown.
Look at that rancid tongue. It speaks to me.
Cowlick tongue: Hi there, everyone! I’m the tongue of a raging douchebag, in case you couldn’t tell. His hair smells like musty socks and his cologne causes sparrows to convulse and drop from the air in mid flight. Also, when nobody’s looking, he makes me lick his own kneecaps. Please, cut me out. I beg of you. I can’t take much more of this!!
Sorry Cowlick tongue. I wouldn’t approach you with a ten foot clamp.
Hottie’s utter obliviousness to the saliva spew heading towards her iris suggests tragic Bleeth infection. But her cleavite is pale, warm and inviting. In fact, her cleavite speaks to me as well.
Cleavite: Love me, DB1. Lick me. Nuzzle my soft pillowy charms. But first, kick Cowlick in his mishapen and asymmetrical scrotae.
I would if I could, Hottie Cleavite. I would if I could.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Kevin McScrote
PIC DELETED
What more can be said about the pumped up genius that is K. McS? They still sing folkloric songs about his legend from Daytona to Key West.
And the Woo Girls make the pic all the better. I would twelve pack their Coors Lights with a free cozy from Best Buy, then take them to the Outback Steakhouse and feast on sirloin.
Honorable mention must go out to the absolutely metal filling melting fantastic corset wearing hottie and her neo-punk emo brother in last week’s Punk Rock ‘Bag. Good times.
Okay ‘bag hunters and cuties, this is your assignment.
Pick one of the three, and only one, who rises to the top, who induces spew, rage, vomit, arousal and the desire to feast on sirloin enough for you to call that pic “HCwDB of the Week.” Then post your vote, with your explanation why, in the comments thread below.
