Ghost and Ms. Chick
I don’t quite know what’s going on in this pic, what with Ghost accosting a girl using lollipops and his chest as a douche battering ram.
Then again, I don’t know where my socks are, either.
Has anyone seen my socks?
No, I already checked behind the couch.
Kellogg's Frosted Fakes
Mmm… Frosted Fakes. Part of this nutritious breakfast. And by breakfast I mean douche.
Here’s a classic example of a young lass who didn’t heed the warnings of Fair Maiden Bleeth. Prolonged exposure to this sneering Tony the Tiger and she’s gone.
It’s sad. She’s good good skin. Presumably good teeth. The inflated airbags means a discount on my car insurance.
And yet, like The Bleeth before her, she’s collapsing from within due to the centrifigal force of ultimate ‘baggery. Too much Douche Cereal in the mornings, Phoebe. Next time, choose Grape Nuts.
The Late Great Bill Hicks
One of the greatest standup comedians of all time, the legendary Bill Hicks, died on this day thirteen years ago. I will mock a ‘bag in his honor today.
Rest easy, Bill, if that’s possible for you. You are not forgotten.
Where's Waldouche: Torso Edition
Somewhere, buried deep within these sexy painted abs, I’ve carefully hidden a Waldouche. It’s extremely hard to find, so take your time and study every detail of the pic.
Look very carefully.
Can you find him?
Waldouche says, “Don’t forget to vote for HCwD of the Week down below!”
'Bag TV
For those fans of Tissue Wrapped Hottie from Friday’s Haiku, here’s another pic of her sultry goodness being macked on by Rocker Scrote.
Note to rockstars with hotties: You have 18 months to save your money before MTV stops running your video to launch a “Pimp My Ride” marathon. Save every penny, Onehitty McWonder. You’ll be changing oil at Pep Boys faster than it’ll take for those facial pubes to grow back in.
As to Maggie, there are no words to express the fantasies of curling up with your ankle bracelet under a pile of coats in the hallway while rocker ‘bag listens to Danzig in the other room. So I will simply make digital love to your image while laughing at creepy Rocker ‘Bag’s 2009 job prospects.
Ghost Ship
Rumor has it this is “The Ghost” making a rare appearance out of man-tan chemical treatment and without dark glasses.
Tribal tat? Check. Unearned dog tags? Check. Pair of Jams from 1988? Check. Face o’ douche? Check mate.
I would wrap Bella with prosciutto and melon and toast Tuscany with her abs under a setting sun.
Mugger
I term this creepy ‘bag “Mugger” not simply because he looks like central casting’s cliche street criminal. Not simply because he’s the type who beats up old ladies in alleys just to steal their laundry money, nor because he wears Paula Abdul’s outfit from the 1989 video, “Straight Up” like a washed up gay porn-star.
But because he mugs us of our souls. Our humanity. Our burning orphans (oh wait, that was the last post).
This soup dumpling makes me Beat Takeshi.
HCwD of the Week: Orphans on Fire Edition
Something about last week’s budding ‘bags made me picture setting orphans on fire. I’m talking the 19th Century Oliver Twist wide eyed scurvy suffering high voiced ten year old orphans begging for a second bowl of porridge.
I’m not sure why. What would setting orphans on fire accomplish, exactly? The good news is they burn just like regular children. Except the flame is slightly bluer.
On to this week’s ‘bag finalists…
HCwD of the Week Finalist #1: The Wifebeater
Classic greasy pudster with a sexy if strangely pale faced cutie on his arm, The Wifebeater inspires all of us to drink more water. And Rock Star Energy Drink, the choice of a Douchebag Generation.
His greasy underdressed chain wearing douchebaggery sets orphans on fire as we speak. Can you hear them crying for the mommie they never knew? Blame Wifebeater.
If you care about the orphans, that is.
HCwD of the Week Finalist #2: Maggie’s Baggie
This Friday Haiku pic brought lots of joy to the orphans down in Sister Jean’s convent. I’m talking bonfire level of joy. Crackling parentless nine year olds suffer so that Maggie’s Baggie can grin. Feel their pain.
Rod Stewart ‘Bag is all that is clubby and spiked in the douchebag “rocker” wing. And Tissue Hottie made an appearance in the comments thread. So maybe if I write more about how hot she is, I’ll have a better chance of Charlesing her Dickens.
Yes you, Maggie. You make lime shirted club promoters grease themselves up by the dozens just for a shot they’ll never have.
HCwD of the Week Finalist #3: Cheese
There’s no way I could leave out this sultry combo of exotic hotness and Shemp ‘Bag. It came down to this pic and Vienna Sausage but in the end I had to go with this fantastic pouty lipped beauty. And Shemp. Douchey Shemp.
Hey Moe, indeed.
So there’s your choices this week, folks. Won’t somebody please think of the burning orphans?
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
Angel of Choad
Oh sexy mature hottie with the medieval talisman that attracts Angel Choads. Venture not into the Forests of ‘Bag, for therein lie the Rodents of Unusual Douchitude. Be wary on your journey, for the Angel Choads haunt the darkness like grease stains on a fast food wrapper. Like pickled onions on a sesame bun.
In fact, you’re standing next to a pickled onion on a sesame bun.
Beware. The special sauce.
Harry Beaver's In Network
An eagle eyed reader spotted the following and sent in a camera phone pic as evidence. He’s convinced this is the one and the same Harry Beaver from last week’s HCwD of the Week contest. H.B. is in the small circle in the middle of the billboard.
Could it be true?
Is our very own Harry Beaver really one of this grinny clown’s “My Faves”? And is T-Mobile cornering the hairy douchebag cell phone market?
