Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

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.

Fabioliscious

I’m thinking of putting this pic on my Christmas Cards. I’ve never seen such Scrote so happy.

I actually sort of feel bad for this swarthy Fabio. Other than his hair, chin fungus, gypsy moth eyebrows, large collared shirt and bizarre necklace, he’s probably not that bad a guy.

Then I look at the way he’s tackling this Persian Princess and I want to ride to the rescue in my recently acquired De-Bleether costume (red spandex, blue cape, giant sparkley cumberbun). I’m a’comin’, Princess!

Pepe's Mustache: The Interview

Pepe knows what the ladies want. Pepe knows how to accent his head with the appropriate positioning of sunglasses. Pepe digs on the two toned suit with matching vest. Pepe is a sexual mustachioed dynamo.

And now, for the first time here on HCwD, Pepe’s Mustache is speaking out. In a rare interview, DB1 had the chance to sit down with Pepe’s Mustache and ask it a few questions:

DB1: So, Pepe’s Mustache…

Pepe’s Mustache: Yes! Challo!

DB1: What’s it like perching on the face of a midget scrote?

Pepe: Well it’s no so easy, let me tell you. I have to make up for the lack of hair on the head, you know? And that’s a lot of pressure for a mustache! Even one as sexually magnetic as myself.

DB1: I understand. So what kind of adventures do you and Pepe get into?

Pepe’s Mustache: Oh we have lots of fun! We sit around and watch T.V. And sometimes Pepe drinks a Corona and gets little bits of beer foam stuck in me. We laugh and laugh about it for hours on end!

DB1: That does sound hilarious. What else?

Pepe’s Mustache: Well, sometimes Pepe like to eat soup, and that’s no fun, let me tell you. All sorts of goo gets stuck in me and it takes me hours before I lose the smell.

DB1: That’s really sort of gross.

Pepe’s Mustache: You have no idea.

DB1: So tell me about the hotties. How do you work with Pepe to overcome them with your douchey powers?

Pepe’s Mustache: Oh, it is easy. We go to where they must embrace us and take a picture because they are getting paid to do it!

DB1: That is clever.

Pepe’s Mustache: Yes thank you. We know.

DB1: Any advice to fellow Mustache ‘Bags out there?

Pepe’s Mustache: Rock on, fellow ‘staches! Pepe and I will see you at the next public event where attractive women are paid to pose with us.

DB1: Thanks for the interview, Pepe’s Mustache. You take care.

Pepe’s Mustache: Shave me. Please. Just shave me. Put me out of my misery. I beg of you.

DB1: Sorry… I gotta go…

Pepe’s Mustache: At least comb me! I lied. It is not all fun and games and sexual pleasure. Pepe neglects me. You have no idea. It is a sad life I lead. Please to do something!

DB1: Thank you for your time, Pepe’s Mustache.