Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Welcome New Douchebags!

We’re getting a lot of new traffic to the site and Glinty here, the winner of our HCwD of the Month contest back in July, just wanted to take a moment and welcome you as well.

With his shiny forehead, douched out gelled hair, Jesus bling and chin pubes, Glinty is a classic example of a douchebag pulling two luscious little hotties with abs I would grill at a Mexican barbeque with hot sause.

So what’s the site about? Well its hard to explain. It’s fairly complex. It’s… well… pictures of hot chicks with douchebags.

Uhm. Yeah.

If you have a great pic of some shiny foreheaded douchebag macking some beautiful little baby doll, send it along to me at douchebag1@hotchickswithdouchebags.com.

You can also click on the FAQ in the column on the left. If the column isn’t appearing on the left, you need to widen your window because Blogger software has some weird-ass HTML that screws everything up.

As to me? I’m just a drunk douchebag with a thing for cheap wine and Hostess chemical snack cake food product. So sit back and enjoy the scrote/hottie combos. There’s nothing quite like wanting to simultanously make sweet sweet love and kill yourself at the same time.

Sunday Scrunch

You ever wake up in the morning and realize you slept wrong and now you’re arm’s all numb and tingly because you were lying on it all night?

This pic kind of reminds me of that sensation. Only instead of lying on my arm and having it feel numb, it’s like having my arm sawed off with a dull chainsaw, then having various woodland rodents nibble on the remains.

White Chocolate Chip Cookies

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

14 teaspoons Tag Body Shot

1 cup (2 sticks, 1/2 pound) Vidal Sassoon “Extra Strength” hair gel, softened

3/4 cup granulated [white] douchebaggery

3/4 cup packed brown sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla ice extract

2 eggs

2 cups (12-ounce package) Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

1 cup chopped scrote

COMBINE flour, baking soda and Tag in small bowl. Beat hair gel, granulated douchebaggery, brown sugar and vanilla ice in large mixer bowl. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition; gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in morsels and scrote. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets.

BAKE in preheated 375-degree [Fahrenheit] oven for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Let stand for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.

White Chocolate Weekend

Yep it’s all White Chocolate weekend here at HCwD where we’ll get to study this scrote in his natural habitat, and marvel at his amazing ability to pull hotties.

This pic marks one of the first appearances of Teeth Bling on the site. Pretty fly, for a white guy. Especially with that pink on pink shirt action. W.C. also has one of the most mysterious fungle patterns on his face I’ve seen since the landing strip craze of May ’05.

But what puts W.C. over the top, what makes him a legend like The Shocker and Big Red before him, is his ability to levitate his left arm around blondie without actually touching her. Impressive, W.C. Most impressive.

Blondie may not be all that and a shot of Tag, but brunette makes Angels sing Houses of the Holy, a capella style.

Kermit the Toad

Oh lordy, lordy, lordy…

Kermit here is carring off one of the most fantastic hotties I’ve ever seen. I love her. I know I’ve said that about other women on this site, but this time I really, really, really mean it. She’s the only one for me. The rest were simply preamble.

Look at how her thigh’s taut skin gives way from Kermit’s toady touch. It is supple, yet firm. And I’m not just gushing with adoration because I’m slightly drunk and it’s only 4:38pm. I’d say this even if I was sober. Anyone who wears knee-high socks, a red plaid miniskirt, and some lacey form of top is a goddess of epic hot proportions.

And then there’s Kermit. A psychologically deflating trainwreck of douchitude that can only mean one thing: My partial drunken state needs rectifying, stat. And by “rectifying” I mean entrance into a full drunken state. So with that, I tip my red plastic cup of Thunderbird to this hottie’s perfection, and journey off to the land of Inebria.

Friday Haiku

Pink Bandana Douche,
Mardi Gras Scrote, so so wrong,
I punch my face hard.

White Chocolate

And while we’re all basking in the afterglow of Dung Beetle’s convincing victory, lets groove a bit to this pic of White Chocolate and his hottie, Blondie Luv, who like to get their freak on in front of Hopper inspired modernist paintings.

I haven’t seen that much whiteness since my last trip to Connecticut. And I’m pleased to see Seinfeld’s Puffy Shirt making a comeback. But Pager-Crotch is not exactly the best look when you’re doing the all white thing.

Enhanced Cleavite is still Holy Cleavite, and I would worship at the shrine of those two Friendly Ghosts.

HCwD of the Month: Dung Beetle

It was Dung Beetle in a douchetastic runaway mudslide victory. D.B. the D.B. absolutely trounced the competition, which was surprising as Labor ‘Bag, Disco Pilgrim and Spanky all offered a unique approach to the enormous stench of unholy hottie/doucheyness. As Mickey O’Douche broke it down:

Dung Beetle — here’s why. If I were magic-tastically transported to each one of these douche scenettes, only the DoucheBeetle would anger me to the point of taking the bag’s hip flask of Tag and beating him senseless with it. In Douche Pilgrim’s presence, I’d probably make some smart ass comment about how he needed the next size up on the next breast implant to do justice to the plunging neckline. I’d never stop laughing at Spanky — c’mon, even he’s laughing at himself. And as for the ultra lo budget K. Fed, I’d just wish him the best with that lo budget Brittney — you know sooner or later she’s chucking him over for a new boytoy.

But the Beetle. And the breastalicious hottie (deal clincher here: you can see her thinking “if I get sugar, you get me” — true mark of a DB’s hookup strategy). Everyone has ID’ed the Beetle’s flashpoints, but I especially like the kungfu grip that he’s exerting on the hottie….for she was thinking about making a break for it, before terminal bleething set in).

Nicely done smackdown, M.O’D. Undouchesided struggles on a deep metaphysical level with their choice:

So, I am left with Dung Beetle and Labour Day bag. Between the two of them I keep coming back to that chest, that glorious chest of dung beetle’s hottie. She appears so natural. Labour Day’s hottie is at the beach, in a bikini and here she is wearing more makeup than a drag queen. Is that not a sure sign of bleathdom?

For me the contest is over, Dung wins. Everyone I am sure has to walk down this dark dark path by themselves as no rules can exist at this level to help determine the douchiest. This conflict must be solved at a primal level and I apoligize for taking so long to work through it. I must go wash now.

Rex struggles with Disco Pilgrim’s clothing before casting in with D.P. (wait, that sounds wrong):

For me it comes down to dung beetle or disco pilgrim, since they are both proudly posing in what they consider to be the height of their sartorial splendor. They are dressed to impress, and the women in the photos are almost assuredly “with” these douchebags. While dung beetle is getting all the votes, largely based on the merits of his companion, I am troubled by both of them. While most seem to be enamored of this woman’s chest, to me it appears as if her breasts are actually originating somewhere under her scapula. In fact, she seems to be malformed in a way that mimics the dung beetle’s facial deformity. Almost as if they were genetically engineered (using slightly faulty technology) around some presupposed ideal of beauty. Her with the large rack, he with a manly jaw. Thus, I think they are both proto-clones synthesized in a beta version of the technique that will ultimately lead to the replacement of all of us with a master race of soul-less droids. The absence of any “real” people in the photo does not offer any evidence to disprove my hypothesis.

And how come there is no support for the disco pilgrim? It has all been said before. There is not a scrap of clothing, a sole accessory, a square inch of his flesh that does not scream douche. While each of the other 3 is either more threatening or more downright scary (that’s you, Mr. Spanky) the pilgrim is the douche.

Punchin Bag throws some love (and be “love” I mean spew) Labor Day ‘Bag’s way:

Labor Day Bag makes me want to swallow my own teeth.

Every douche on the list is a super douche for sure. But this prick is the kind of uber douche that probably carries a picture of himself in his wallet. Taken when he was 8 months old and he’s instinctively doing bag hand gesture #54. And so he carries it around to show hot chicas like this one that he was born to douche.

But rjdub brings it home for the Beetle and seals the deal:

My vote is for Dung Beetle. His baggetry is deep enough it is blurring my vision. Although Labor Day is a Paul Bunyan sized douche, I think Beetle Bailey runs away with it like a Kenyan in a marathon. Add in the superb chest on the lady he has his greasy snubs on and it makes me want to self inflict a puke by stepping into a WNBA locker room after a double over time dual to the end.

So lets raise D.B. and the absolutely perfect hottie in his G.I. Joe Douche-Fu Grip to the rafters, where only Glinty currently resides (because I’ve been too hung over to actually conduct these contests every month). Although I did give James Blunt or “The BluntBag” an automatic “D.B. of the Month” status in August after “You’re Beautiful, You’re Beautiful” sent me into uncontrollable spasms of violence.

As to Pat, don’t you people worry your androgynous little heads, he will be back in a very special HCwD of the Week contest tomorrow.

As for Danny Bonnadouchey clamoring for another “HC” faceoff, we did do a Hottest of the Hot contest back in July with 10 pics of utter lusciousness, so maybe we’ll do another one of those. That’s where we focus more on the HC side of the ledger rather than the head pounding noxious putritude of the douche factor. Mmm… might be time for one of those, although ten was perhaps too many to include (I got carried away with keeping all the hotties in play).

Fantastic work, people. We are doing God’s bidding. The slog may be painful at times. The douchebaggery may cause deep soul searching and existential angst. But the hotties are out there, looking, well, hot. And the combinations must continue to be explored shining the light of truth on their noxious fumes as only we can. And if we can get drunk on the ‘Train while we’re at it, all the better.

Back to the Douchebag

I’m 90% sure this is Marty McFly ‘bag aka Champaigne Superdouchebag who made a few appearances back on the site back in July. What’s amazing is if you compare this pic to the one in July, he’s wearing a different colored shirt and a different sportscoat, and yet in some bizarro way, they’re exactly the same.

Different. But the same.

Amazing. He’s like the Grand Wizard ‘Bag. His mystical powers of douchitude allow him not only to change colors like a gecko but to rope in different hotties in every pic. So give it up for Marty McFly. I don’t know what black lace slip thing that blond chicka is wearing, but I do know it makes me very, very happy. And by “happy,” I mean drooling on my shirt like I’m staring at a six pack of Little Debbie Snack Cakes. And in many ways, I am.

Hootie is a Blowfish

Wow.

I’m dehooted. I’m hootless. I don’t give the proverbial hoot.

This round mound of unsound, uhm, douchebaggery (okay that last one didn’t rhyme) rubbing his own nipp with a Bleethed out hottie sporting enhanced cleavite and ‘Bag Hand Gesture #05 just hits you like a ton of douche-bricks.

This appears to be a Halloween pic, which renders the question, what is Hootie supposed to be? A Hooters Girl? And if so, can I kill myself with a blunt object now or should I wait for later?

I’m keeping the HCwD of the Month contest open all day today as well, so scroll down and get them votes in, bitches.