That 70s Douche
There comes a time in every man’s life when he must make a profound decision. A moment in which he stares into the abyss and asks himself one very deep and life altering question:
Should he douche or not douche?
In the case of this quasi-retro 1970s roadkill, the choice was made long ago. Perhaps in the crib. He would douche.
Years passed. And now here he is, featuring a touch of chin pube goodness, giant douche glasses, and the douchiest nylon shirt this side of a Wilmer Valderaama garage sale.
As to that delicious line of cleavite? I’d put it on a bun, add some mustard and sauerkraut, and feast with deep and profound merriment.
HCwD FAQ
So I’ve finally whipped my lazy ass into shape long enough to put together a FAQ for the site. Check it out here. What are some other questions I should add to the list? Aside from the Paul Wall references, natch.
Updating will be sporadic tomorrow until the evening due to an ancient Hebraic tradition. It’s the one day a year where the DB1 goes from being an alcoholic narcissist who likes to stare at pics of hotties to an alcoholic narcissist who feels guilty about being a total douchebag. So no updates until Monday evening.
In the meantime, keep those Haikus coming. There’s some genius ones already.
Haiku this HCwD
Inspired by the haikus posted by Seattle Bagslayer and the frequently posting anonymous in the earlier haiku pic, here’s your weekend assignment fellow ‘bags and hotties:
Haiku this pic.
Post your best crack at the ancient form of Japanese poetry in the comments section and Monday we’ll run the best one.
Yup, it’s Friday. Crack a bottle of Irish Rose and salute the Hotties and curse the ‘Bags who infect them with their rank douchitude…
Friday TongueScrote
Here’s a little TongueScrote action to close out your Friday and get you properly annoyed and disgusted. And of course, these two little Philly Cheesesteaks help kill that pain and chase it with a nice soothing dose of smooth and creamy melted cheese.
Mmm… melted cheese.
I wanna crossbow Pinky McStripe
right between those two tootsie rolls he calls ‘brows.
It’s not that I have anger issues. It’s the tonguebags that bring that out. Honest. Other than wanting to set douchebags on fire, I’m actually quite the pacifist.
Even Gandhi had his limits.
You’re telling me good old Mahatma wouldn’t want to set scrotes on fire?
HCwD Rallying Cry
You.
Yes you.
The guy reading HCwD right now in his cubicle.
Don’t look around, I’m talking to you.
Look at this pic to the left here. Look at this greasy gasface. He’s not better than you. Yet look what he’s embracing while you type in data-entry info on your lousy ass temp job.
You gonna take it? You gonna let this Eastern European looking chin fungus embrace a blonde piece of heaven while you sit and stare at a flickering monitor and wonder how long until you can get up again and wander into the office kitchen so you can check out Susan, the minimally attractive legal assistant in the cubicle near the men’s bathroom?
You just going to sit there and let this pic exist in digital reality without any form of retribution? What kind of a man are you, office boy? Get out there and do some damage! The hotties are being swarmed by scrote as we speak, and you just sit there?
It’s Friday Night. The ‘bags are out in force. The hotties are being covered with the odor of Axe Bodyspray grease and unbuttoned shirt douche virus as we speak. What are you gonna do about it?
GuitarFace
Stevie Ray VaughnBag here features the best pube-chin I’ve seen in many a moon. I didn’t know Playboy let non-Blondes be playmates anymore, but this one appears to be “of the bunny.”
Which means she’s at a paid event.
Which means this large headed cro magnon didn’t get nuthin’.
What’s with the giant white pup-tent in the back? Are they hiking in the Adirondacks?
Douchebag Haiku Friday
Large pillowed cleavite.
Cornucopia of scrote.
Fire raging inside.
'Bag Swarm
A reader writes in with the following ‘Bag Swarm:
Please find attached a picture of my roommate at a club in Barbados. It was horrible, it was so, so, horrible. Please note the slickly greased hair on our friend on the right here. And the long sleeved black shirt in 90 degree caribbean weather. And the extra-long extra-icky fingernails, which you are luckily cannot see so well in this pic. And the pinky ring. Oh, God, the pinky ring. I’m not even going to go into his goatee/ I-accidentally-shaved-off- most-of-this-moustache thing.
P.S. She used to date this guy and I can, in fact, confirm the fact that he is a douchebag.
I don’t know if these three dudes are true ‘bags or not, I’m just pleased to see Cedric The Entertainer, Jermaine DuPre and Hootie find love.
Jeb the HickBag
Well, next thing you know, old Jeb’s a big douchebag…
We haven’t seen a lot of HickBags come through here, as the ‘Bag phenomenon tends to relegate itself to urban and suburban bridge-and-tunnel blight. And of course I have no evidence this isn’t some Trustafarian doing his hip ironic take on rural trash to charm the ladies.
But I do know that his chest fungus could keep six homeless people warm this winter. And that Chloe Sevigny Hottie is just 110 pounds of tasty tablecloth covered cleavite. And both of those facts are, well, a HCwD pic that deserves our proper salute. To the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies.
Richie Rich
Kind of says it all, don’t it?
OldBag has gotta be loaded up the ass to pull off that look. Absolutely sick rich. Love the cornrows and ‘Bag Hand Gesture #05.
Although the watch is kinda sweet.
