Black Lung a DykeBag?
In the comments thread, c-freak posited that Black Lung is, in fact, a dyke ‘bag. And now that I study the drawn in eyebrows, I think C.F. may be onto something.
Yech.
Lets toss Black Lung in with Douche Lee and Pat as ‘bags on a higher plane of consciousness, bow to their Holy Manifestation, and down a six pack of PBRs, stat.
Black Lung
Holy sweet Yasmine, I haven’t had enough coffee yet to have to stare at this sausage when I’m still nursing a New Years hangover of epic proportions.
I have many problems with this scrote. Many. But what churns the butter beyond the multitude of douchebaggery has to be those eyebrows.
Those shaved, painted on, pube-like eyebrows from douchebag hell.
They taunt me.
They are 1980s horror film Rick Baker level special effects. They are alien mutant viruses. They are follicles of pure, uncut evil. They are the smoking black thing in the microwave at the end of “Time Bandits.” Mom! Dad! Don’t touch it!
Dark haired cutie appears to be just my type. As she spirals down into her black hole of ‘baggery, it is Dickensian tragedy of 1850s England. She is a working class Londoner, and he is black lung.
Tickle Me Emo
One of the hottest toys this holiday season was the “Tickle Me Emo” doll, complete with earring and fauxhawk accessories. Here we see a lucky recipient of the toy, enjoying a night out on the town.
Other hot toys this season were the “Cab’bag Patch Kids,” the “Chin Furby” and the hardest to get of toys, the “Bleeth Free Barbie.” Blondie with the healthy Cleavite seems to have done well for herself.
The San Francisco ArtBag
San Francisco opens up an interesting subsection of HCwD discourse. As I’ve mentioned, the DB1 (that’s me), is having an alcoholic New Years celebration in this city of the beats, hippies and designer clothing boutiques. As I’ve stumbled drunkenly from North Beach to Noe Valley, I’ve observed an interesting subgroup of douchebaggery we haven’t discussed much on the site: The “art’bag.” Artbags are an urban hipster variant of the douche genetically redesigned for city scrotitude. Signs of ‘baggery are not as overt as White Chocolate level regurgitation, the Jesus Bling and popped Izods. Instead, art’bags are subtler. More “sensitive.”
Of course, being the drunk douchebag that I am, I haven’t actually snapped any pics of these art-school scrotents in action, but I am going to make a concerted effort in the next few weeks to find and isolate this mutant strain of the ‘bag virus in hottie corralling action. Like Curie or Pasteur, I must first isolate the contagion, exposing it to the purifying light of the collective mock (that’s where you guys come in), and as such, seek to cure it through the reframing of the cultural capital as understood in Bourdieu’s theory of “habitus.”
Man. Too many shots last night. It’s the new year and I’m making even less sense then before.
Better you ignore my ramblings and simply glare at this arty demon seed and the two cuties he’s polluting. This isn’t an exact demonstration of the San Francisco art’bag in action, but it’s the best I could find given I’m still recovering from doing schlager with some sexy Norwegian “On Golden Blonde” at 2am.
Happy 17 A.G.!!
As we enter the year 17 A.G. (After Greico), I hope all of our parties end up like this roasted turd chestnut. With sixteen hotties all drinking from the classic Ubiquitous Red Cup, and one skeezy scrote who’s more interested in the camera than the perfect munchy leg he’s perching on.
It can’t be good to want to tie this feral slice of small intestine to a ball of metallic razor blades and roll him down a hill. That can’t be a positive emotion heading into a New Years, which is supposed to be about change, and uplift and positivity.
Feh. Screw positivity. Lets chain up Grinny McCheese to a tractor pull and go bear hunting.
One question: Is the 7-11 Big Gulp Red Cup the Ferrarri of Ubiquitous Red Cups?
The Douchies: Drunk Miss Nevada and the 'Bag Hunter Awards
Greetings from San Francisco, where The DB1 is planning to spend a New Years of utter debauchery and sin in which I will be chasing hippie Hotties with hopefully a stage-0 Bleeth level.
Good times will most definitely ensue.
Before I forget, I have to hand out a few 2006 Douchie Awards to some of the key contributors to the site. So without further ado, the Douchie Awards for the ‘bag hunters from the comments thread:
2006 Douchie Award: Most Prolific ‘Bag Hunter — Douchestar Runner, for submitting dozens of pics over the past year including some of the greatest hits of all time on the site. This guy is a ‘Bag Hunter Master of the Scrotiest Order, a true King of Bling. Good work, D.R. Expectations are high for 2007.
2006 Douchie Award: Zen ‘Bag Master — Doc, whose volume of pic hunting was not high in quantity, but absolutely fantastic in douche quality. The man is a sushi chef of ‘bag hunting, a Minimalist masterworker in the vein of a Frank Stella painting or Robert Bresson film. Doc waits for his moment, still as Schiavo, then strikes with lighting quickness. For that, he earns a well deserved 2006 Douchie.
2006 Douchie Award: Philosophical ‘Bag Master– Baron von Douchehausen, for understanding that analyzing the cultural ramifications of douchebaggery requires a detailed approach to linguistics, semiotics, cultural studies, critical theory, psychology, parapsychology, and a deep-rooted desire to mercilessly mock all that is scrote. Keep up the excellent analysis, BvD. We’ve only scratched the surface of our detailed topographical analysis of douchie/hottie comingling.
Special props to all the regulars for keeping the dialogue going as we dig deeper into what it is that creates these monstrosities of male superego and the cuties who love them. Cheers!!
The Douchies: Hottest Cleavite
In the immortal words of Marvin Gaye: Ain’t no Mountain High Enough…
I don’t know quite what that means, but it seems apropos of something or another for this fantastic and perfect example of the Holy Cleavite in all its glorious relevation.
Not to mention the combo with this skankbag. Such HC + D gale force winds are what can kill a horse if not properly monitored.
So lets raise this pic to the rafters and honor it with a 2006 Douchie Award. There really aren’t two better examples of what makes the world spin in its utter perplexed confusion than in this pic right here. In many ways this pic represents war, peace, injustice and cereal bars all at the same time. What, you don’t like cereal bars?
Can I get an “amen”?
The Douchies: Douchiest Inverted 'Bag Sandwich Formation
How can we forget this classic inverted ‘bag sandwich formation from back in June? A well earned 2006 Douchie to this pile of yak crap in the middle. I’d like to klog dance on his seed.
I will forever love quirky dark haired hottie in the green bikini. I know I’ve said I love other women on this site, and I meant it everytime. But this time, I mean it for as long as I continue to type this sentence.
Santa Pudge
I know it’s a few days after Christmas and all, but… uhm…. er… I… yeah. I feel dirty.
Candycane on the right has all sorts of meaty childbearing hips. And for some reason, I like it. Maybe it’s the Vans.
Lets give this pudge a 2006 Douchie Award for “Douchiest Tie.” Hell, the irony of the Douchies is even though I’m making them up as I go, they still have more credibility than the Blockbuster Awards.
Douche Lee Returns
I’ve got a few more Douchies to hand out before the end of 2006, but for those of you jonsing for a new pic, this one’s a beauty. Yes, bow your heads, fellow ‘bags, ‘bag hunters and hotties. This is yet another extremely rare pic of the legendary spiritual Zen ubermensch, Douche Lee, snapped of the mystical D.L. in action just last week.
Yes, our intrepid witness to the Douche Lee manifestation has once again gone out and snapped a pic of this omnisexual spirit in action.
Let us never again question the Douche Lee, nor wonder about such trivialities as Its sexual orientation or identity. Let us simply marvel at Its ability to continue to summon the hottest tail this side of a New England harbor back-alley at 2am.
Douche Lee is a myth no longer. For now we can, no we must, believe in the spirit of the D.L.
Let us bow our heads in reverent prayer. We come to praise Its holy manifestation in all Its glorious earthly revelation. Let the legend of Douche Lee sing out across the lands in poem and song for all eternity to hear Its douchey cry.
