Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Is Raymond "Dung Beetle"?

It appears that eagle eyed ‘bag hunters have exposed Raymond’s true identity — none other than Dung Beetle itself. Raymond is merely a construct, a cloaking device if you will, meant to conceal D.B.’s true secret uber-douche identity. Without glasses, mild mannered Raymond is simply a white-clothed everyday ‘bag, scrotey and foul, but not overpoweringly so. But with giant black sunglasses, Raymond transforms into Dung Beetle, black-clothed SuperBag, able to grab hotties in his G.I. Joe grip with a single grope.

It’s not 100%, but utilizing my mad photoshop skillz, I think I’ve proven beyond a reasonable doubt that Dung Beetle moves among us as Raymond, a mild mannered flaky shirted douchebag. An ordinary everyday pile of poo.

But as we all know, Dung Beetle can never be ordinary. He is one of the hallowed ‘Bags of the Month. And as such, his source-douche makes us all tremble in its unholy power.

Everybody Thinks Raymond's a Douchebag

Ray Romano ‘Bag’s shirt seems to be shedding. But Kelly Preston hottie looks like a fine wine, even though judging by the background she’s starring in the douchebag remake of “Logan’s Run.”

And the recent trend for cuties to walk around with unbuttoned hotpants is definitely a thumbs up movement.

Spike: You can say that again.

Pipe down, Spike.

White Chocolate and Spike

I’d like to introduce you all to someone who will occasionally be commenting on the site, my penis, Spike. I named Spike at summer camp when I was 14 and since then Spike and I have had a very friendly but occasionally cantankerous relationship as Spike has gotten me into trouble many times. So please give a warm handshake welcome to occasional HCwD commentator, my penis, Spike:

Spike: Hey there, thanks for having me.

DB1: So Spike, what do you make of White Chocolate and his hottie here?

Spike: You know, I can get around some of the douchebaggery in these pics, but W.C. just pisses me off man. It’s bad enough I live two inches from an a-hole and every so often you make me do pushups in a cave until I throw up.

DB1: C’mon Spike, we read that joke back in 7th Grade in our well worn copy of “Truly Tasteless Jokes Volume VII.”

Spike: Hey, what do you want, original humor? I’m a penis.

DB1: So tell us, Spike, are you able to overcome White Chocolate and enjoy the busty red Jersey hottie here? Or is the power of douchebaggery too much even for you?

Spike: Well DB1, as you know, I’m a pretty hardy organ. Did I complain when we dated that overweight girl from Iowa in college? No. I soldiered on through because I’m there for you, man.

DB1: That you are.

Spike: So I’m a pretty easygoing shlong, I’d say. I can tolerate a lot. But can I get around a pink silk scarf wearing douchebag with teeth bling to enjoy that hottie? Dude, I’m not a miracle worker.

DB1: Yeah, but I give you the Where’s Waldouche pics. And what about that blondie in the black lace from a few pics ago?

Spike: Yeah. That was good times.

DB1: Okay, so no more White Chocolate pics. It’s too much for you?

Spike: Meh. I can work around it. So long as there’s cleavite and nice abs, I’m all good.

DB1: Well I’m glad to hear that Spike! You know how much you mean to me.

Spike: Hey one, request if I could.

DB1: Sure, what’s up?

Spike: Can you uncross your legs? I’m choking down here.

DB1: Oh, sorry.

Socrates on Douche

“To fear douche, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, douche may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?” — Socrates

Where's Waldouche: Election Edition

Pat #1, “Classic Pat” won entry into next month’s HCwD of the Month contest but I just couldn’t subject everyone to another posting of that pic right now. So instead here’s a fun little Where’s Waldouche with some of the most luscious hotties this side of, well, a place where there’s lots of luscious hotties. Like, uhm, my place. Yeah, that’s it.

So can you find Waldouche, the utter pile of douche that I’ve hidden somewhere in this pic? Search carefully. I know that you can.

How much do I love Candy Lips in the front there? Answer: More than your moms.

BlueDouche

If I could vote for anyone in this election it would be BlueDouche here, for “Secretary of Ass.” His holy power of source scrote has already knocked off two hotties, one of whom appears to be puking and the other looks like she just got sentenced to six months hard labor in Leavenworth. And that cutie in the back kind of looks like Jackie-O.

He’s running on the less famous “Guys I’d Like to Hit in the Face with a Hammer” Party. I was going to write more but I’m covering a story on off-track betting in the Himalayas. It’s a smaller story but I know you’ve been following it.

So get out there and vote. And if you don’t see anyone you like on the list, you can always write in a vote for BlueDouche here. Or, be like me. Sit around on your floor picking week old cheerios out of the carpet and avoid the sun like the plague.

It's Nice!

In honor of the fantastic Borat film which I saw over the weekend, I have only the following to say about this hottie: “She is very nice! Hi five! But why is she being groped by a, how you say, dutch beg?”

Go see Borat. It’s genius.

But not as genius as this out of control hottie and her test-pattern uber-Jersey pud.

DouchePlay

What was that game in those kids magazines where you had to circle all the “errors” in the image? I’m going to call our version “DouchePlay.” Count all signs of douche in the following pic, including the female signs of Bleeth infestation. I count nine, give or take the fact Michael Rappaport ‘Bag appears to be wearing rouge and lipstick. I’m also hestitant to include Scarface paraphernalia. Tony Montana’s on the bubble. Great flick but with so much douchitude associated with wiggas trying to get in on the craze it’s almost douche-worthy. Regardless, basketball jerseys with bizarre blue silk undershirts are definitely Hall of Scrote accoutrement.

Petey the Bartender

Bartenders, or as I like to call them, “Walking V.D.,” spend their lives serving drinks and going home with whatever’s leftover at the end of the night. Not that there’s anything wrong with that in theory. It’s the red-cap white-muscle bling look that renders ‘bag status. As a result we need a special sub-category of ‘bag for the bartender scrote. “Bartendouche,” “‘tenderizers” or maybe just “Your Lousy-Ass Band Didn’t Get a Record Deal and This Scotch has Too Much Ice, Douchebag.” Yeah, I like that one. Nice bling, ‘tender, and tell “Shii” to stop writing on your shirt.

I haven’t quite figured out what this new trend of ribbon hair with the hotties is, but I kinda like it. It’s sort of like hooking up with a Mayfair Pole. Also the trend to wear guy’s white muscle t-shirts gives the DB1 a terrible case of happy pants. For the douchebag in the middle, not so much.

HCwD of the Week: Pat Edtition

It’s early on Monday and normally I’m lying on the floor in a pool of my own vomit, but you asked for it. You got it. HCwD of the Week, Pat style. Which of these three HCwD pics deserves entry into next month’s HCwD of the Month contest? Pat, Pat or Pat?

HCwD #1: Pat

What more can be said? The pic that started the phenomenon that’s sweeping Douchebag Nation. Androgyne, old school style.

And that sexy Jersey hottie with the hottest exposed hip I’ve seen since my days in the meatpacking district.

HCwD #2: Disco Pat

Disco Pat knows what the ladies want.

Disco Pat has what the ladies want.

Disco Pat actually does have a pretty hot hottie on his arm. That is not an illusion.

DB1 now wants to kill himself.

HCwD #3: Pat-thetic, aka: Purple Pat

Looks like Pat’s hottie found a few snuggly friends. I would pour maple syrup on their toes while reading Jabberwocky in Greek.

Man, that’s a purple wall.

So what say you, folks? Pick which Pat we should use for the HCwD of the Month contest, so we can democratically ensure the most Patalicious Pat is the one we… uhm… Pat on the back? Yeah. That didn’t work. Oh well. Vote in the comments thread.