The Pud Cactus
By now, many of you know my taste in the ladies. If you guessed “this girl,” you’d be correct. Painfully correct.
The fact she’s growing a Pud Cactus out of her back shreds my soul like a Benihana chef hopped up on goofballs. This fungal faced douche has performed one of the rarest of ‘bag movements — the ‘bag headbutt into the back.
For that we applaud his greasy forehead.
And by applaud I mean we send him down a slip-n-slide covered in poo.
Howdy Turdy
Howdy Turdy here may be hugging his mom, I’m not sure, but man oh man I love that hair. He’s like an animatronic 50s puppet come to life. Douchebag? Just a touch of ‘baggery, but enough to post.
And if that is his mom, I’d be at every PTA meeting. Wearing cologne. And my least dirty pair of jeans.
F.C. Likes Cleavite
Oh yes he does.
Moses Bling
Moses Bling here proves once again that that ‘baggitude cuts across all religious, ethnic and racial lines. Although other than the ‘bling and the spikey hair, dude ain’t much on the scrote scale. But we’ll give him a solid stage-1 ‘bag status simply for, well, her.
Yes her.
The dark haired hottie on the right. She may be the most nuclear hot hottie we’ve had in some time. I would skin rabbit furs and sell them for coin in Bangledesh just to riverdance to her toenail clippings.
And I don’t riverdance to just any hottie’s toenail clippings.
HCwD of the Month: Donkey Douche
As if there was any doubt.
The power of the hotness simmering in the same broth as this prime rib slice of choad is enough to make even the Zen and peace loving among us pick up a knife and stab a homeless orphan in the neck.
alpha douche sums up the feeling of the votes in one sentence:
I went to my zen place of serenity and there I found a huge turd left by Donkey Douche. Vote: DD
And douche diggler agrees:
In a close battle, the winner should be donkey douche. His hair, dog tags, and purple lips scare off his competitors.
However, some felt D.D. has already claimed his share of the spotlight, and were won over by the Vortex’s presumed indifference to the ultimate hotness on his arm. As douche, phb(ag) puts it:
Vortex. Can’t talk now, weeping.
And i bling throws in for the classic douchitude of The Mug:
Yes, DD is a giant spiky-haired pile of elephant dung, though I don’t hold the ass chin against him because there’s nothing he can do about it. But just damn, look at that cobra tee, that index finger ring, the presumably fake dogtags on the Mug. Add to that his matching mandana, which means he has a closet full of mandanas at the ready so he won’t waste precious time color coordinating. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening act of the Slaughter concert down at the fair grounds. Screw DD, I’m voting for the Mug.
But pfah brings home the Donkey Domination with this simple ode to his HCwD of the Month winning power:
i tip my hat to the Donk. and by ‘tip my hat’, i mean drive a truck over him. still, he gets my vote. he embodies everything that is a douche. the perfect douche, if you will.
ride on, Donkey. ride on.
Indeed. Ride on, Donkey. Ride on.
Speaking of uber-douche, the “Hall of Scrote” is now up on the left hand side. D.D. has been added to the list. However, I’m open to forming a “Hall of Scrote” committee voting system similar to baseball’s Hall of Fame, and would like to nominate Mitch Meats, Baron Von Douchausen, Douchestar Runner, douchebag out!, and greekbag as offical “HoS ‘Baggers.” However I’m open to adding a few more to the committee, so if interested, let me know.
The “Hall of Scrote” is not simply open to HCwD of the Week winners, nor HCwD of the Month even. It must be those HCwD pics that stay with us. That haunt our dreams. That plague our subconscious. So lets tip our red cups of the ‘train to D.D. and “pat” ourselves on the back for a job well done.
Special props to the supreme ‘bag hunting skills of Doc for finding another iconic HCwD pic.
Ode to Wig Red
Oh Wig Red,
How douchey is thine presence.
Like flying scrote across yonder heavens,
I stare at polluted hotties,
A single tear rolls down thine eye.
The only “shock” is to the spirit of yonder heavens.
I’d pee on your face.
DB1 on The Ugly Phil
Some of you have inquired as to The DB1’s (that’s me!) appearance on the Ugly Phil radio program across the pond over in merry ole’ England. Well here it is, my very first appearance on a radio program, discussing, as always, all things hottie/douchey.
I think I did okay, although the speed at which the cohosts talked was something I wasn’t ready for. Also the fact it was 11pm didn’t help, so if I sound slightly tired and/or slow, chalk it up to too many bottles of cheap wine and that extra serving of fried chicken wings I had that night from Genghis Cohen’s.
I fiddled around with trying to embed this thing, but can’t quite figure out how to make that work. If anyone knows the HTML code to embed the MP3, post it in the comments thread and I’ll update it.
So, without further ado… The DB1 (that’s me!) appearing on the Ugly Phil Show:
http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/DB1_UglyPhil_012807.mp3
Fraggle Choad III: Mack That Hottie
Fraggle Choad wants to remind you to vote in the HCwD of the Month thread, if you haven’t already. Isn’t that right, F.C?
F.C.: Challo! I am Fraggle Choad!
Yes, we know that F.C.
F.C: Donkey Douche is run away with crown! But what about me? Am I not douchey enough? If you prick me, do I not grease?
Uhm, good point, there Mr. Choad.
F.C.: I resent that my smirky visage is not more celebrated on your website, DB1.
Well, here you go, F.C. This one’s for you.
F.C.: And chey, what ever happen to your radio interview on the Ugly Phil show?
Funny, you should ask about that F.C. I have the audio and simply need to find a free MP3 hosting site. As soon as I can upload it, I’ll post it for you to listen to.
F.C.: Acha! Thank you, douchebag1!
No problem F.C. Now get your greasy paws off that vision in white. Now.
Barbarella and Evil Kirk 'Bag
It’s hard to argue that Trekkie Nerds fall anywhere within the douchebag oeuvre. Since part of the ‘bag attribute is the ability to at least locate within a spacialized hot chick locale, Trek geeks can’t really be classified within a larger scrote discourse.
However this blondie has made numerous appearances on this site (if she’s who I think she is). And therefore I post this pic of her in her sci-fi’d getup to honor ultimate hotness, and dub her, “Barbarella.”
As to Na-Nu-Na-Nu, that upturned hair and mysterious “side” positioning for his ode to geekdom suggest the presence of lurking Evil Kirk ‘Bag within. Perhaps he mind melded with Donkey Douche, and finds his DNA irretrievably altered by the experience. Regardless, I’m going stage-1 ‘Bag on this choad.
I would wrap Barbarella in a late 60s shag carpet until Logan-5 and the rest of the Sandmen came looking for Sanctuary.
Sweet Dreams Aren't Made of Scrote
The comes a time when every early 30s semi employed post-dot-com Austin Texas slacker needs to get a neck tattoo, cactus up the hair, and flip off a camera. For David Arquette ‘Bag, that time is now.
Blondie has a certain dour Annie Lennox quality. I’d like to stop the rain again. In fact, between her and Whippy McHair here, it’s like an HCwD version of the Eurythmics. Which sucks, because I always liked the Eurythmics. But what I don’t like are cactus heads running from impending middle age.
Suck it up and deal with it, slacker ‘bag. You ain’t 21 no more.
