Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Boob

Since we’re doing a “Boobies” theme today, I thought it was time to post another form of Boob, the “desperately trying to grow a mustache while wearing pink polo popped collar” Boob.

Cross pollinate that definition with the “Posing for pics with hotties who are paid to promote products” boob, and you have this boob’s boob.

Blondie is all sorts of Swedish hot. I want to yodel her riccola.

Thumbs Down

Observe hottie on the left making the “I’m sooo drunk!” Bleeth Mating Call #04. Too bad she’s left with two options — go with Pink, or with the serial killer. Please, for the love of the DB1’s active fantasy life, go Pink.

Douche Penn Jilette here wants you to vote in this week’s HCwD contest.

HCwD of the Week: Boobies Edition

Last week was a phemonemal run for the soft pillows here at HCwD. It was Springtime in January, bosoms in bloom and birds were singing. I wanted to call Leif Ericson and go hiking in the hinterlands. Explore the infamous Valley Of Cleavite, from which mortal men remain fixated and lost forever. Lo, it is a dangerous journey. But I would undertake it with a spring in my step, and a pillow underfoot.

Thanks again to all the ‘bag hunters who sent in pics to me, the DB1. You guys had some awesome finds. It’s going to be a tough week.

But judge we must, and by “judge” I mean “spew.” So without further ado, lets get to the finalists for the coveted HCwD of the Week Award.

HCwD of the Week #1: Donkey Douche

Since this was a Friday Haiku entry, I didn’t give this caveman/hottie combo its proper name. So we’ll go with Donkey Douche. I considered “Douchey Kong,” but “Donkey Douche” just seems to captivate this ass-chin’s essence so much more phenomenally.

As to a hotter version of Carmen Elektra, there really are no words to summon up the essence of what she does to make my soul sing the Glory of Higher Meaning and my pants to feel funny. As the ever present anonymous writes in the comments thread:

I would write a haiku but the power of her cleavage (best dress ever?) and the fact that this superdouche can’t even muster a smile with this woman near him- has killed my will to think and to live. Boobs.

Boobs indeed, my friend. Boobs indeed.

HCwD of the Week #2: Clay Wankin’

The burning energy of this young ball of hot is enough to power a thousand Priuses. She is everyday hot, “normal looking” enough that you can pretend you have a shot with her (you don’t), and yet covertly beautiful enough for you to fantasize about the possibility she doesn’t know she’s that hot (she does). In short, you lose.

And then there’s Clay. American Idol’s helped out on the prepubescent male look lately, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I would use his head to play street hockey with the troubled youth down at the Y.

Another fantastic entry, and a worthy candidate for a 2007 Douchie no matter what happens.

HCwD of the Week #3: The Turd and the Swan

I forgot about the genius of this pic, where this young bright eyed doe is facing the indignity of the ‘Bag Head Butt from Turd Boy here. No boobies in this pic, but this girl is an absolute beauty. And this pile of human fudge is all that makes the baby Jesus cry.

It’s an absolutely brutal smackdown week for HCwD voting. I personally have no idea yet which of these three contestants rise to the level of the HCwD of the Week, and as such, I’m going to need all the votes I can get to figure this one out.

So what say you? Is it the Turd and the Swan? Donkey Douche? Or Clay Wankin’? Remember to factor in BOTH the pain of the douchebag’s douchitude, and the hotness of the hottie. How much of each, whether you go 50/50, 80/20 or 60/40, must be determined on a case by case basis. Them’s the rules. Now it’s time for the vote.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

Party Guy

Every party has the tall dude rubbing up against the hotties while doing the “White Man’s Boogie.”

Don’t be that guy, Red. Don’t be that guy.

A Post for the Soldiers

I’ve gotten a bunch of emails from soldiers over in Iraq and Afghanistan over the last few months telling me how much they enjoy the site and check it everyday. It’s hard for me to think of what to say to that since I’m a half-drunk douchebag whose greatest sacrifice to this country is taking out my trash on time, so I usually just want to STFU lest I embarrass myself. But the truth is, if I’m making you guys laugh over there, even for a minute, long enough to forget where you are and remember all the hotties and douchebags over here that you’re fighting for, then I’m honored and humbled.

So I post this pic for you guys. The place in that pic is reserved for you when you get home.

I want you to stay safe, stay positive, and get yer ass back home safe and sound so you too can be in one of these pics.

I’ll make a deal with you. You get home from your tour and bust out there in the clubs and snag a hottie, take a pic and send it in and I’ll run it as proof that the hotties can indeed be rescued from the ‘bag plague. And if you’re going to be over there for awhile, no rush, the hotties who need saving will still be here waiting for you to get back home to rescue ’em from the scrote.

Especially you Captain M.E. in Afghanistan, who wrote me last month. Get yer butt back here and send me a pic of you in the “other” field. I want to see you roust up a few hotties and bust ‘bag hand gesture #52.

If you’re a female soldier over there, get back here so you can slap around your fellow hotties and keep them away from the greasy ‘bags who keep swarming them.

You guys need to stay safe on the front lines and remember that the douchebag plague is polluting America as we speak, so we need you to get yer ass back here safe and sound so you can help save the hotties before it’s too late.

Hang in there guys. My thoughts are with you, and I toast a red cup of Night Train in your honor today. You guys are my heroes.

Squiggy

Friday Night. Which for the DB1 means kicking back with a six pack of PBR, some tasty chocolate HoHos, and a Celeste Pizza for One. Because I know how to live it up. I’ve also recently discovered the joys of Pocky. A Japanese snack treat that is delectable. If you have the means, I highly recommend you pick some up.

And then there’s this oily putz.

Where to start on this knob. I’d roast him on the campfire, then press him between a graham cracker and a marshmallow to create a s’douche. As to the sexy librarian on the right, I’d like to celeste her pizza for one. I have no idea what that means, but it’s Friday, so it’s all good.

May you all have a hottie filled and douchebag free weekend. And remember, the best way to combat tonight’s hangover is to keep on drinkin’ tomorrow. Am I right?

Pops

PIC DELETED

I know Pops here isn’t a douchebag, but I had to post a hottie this far gone down the dark road of scrote. Lime Green dress and ‘bag hand gesture #26. Very sad, Hottie. Very sad.

Pops, you’ve failed in your prime duty as father — keep your daughter away from the douche.

Look at her. One can only imagine the Jaeger shots she did last night with Chad in the pink popped Izod and spikey hair. There’s no coming back from that, Pops. Say goodbye to the daughter you once had. When the future boyfriend comes over, bring paper towels to wipe up the grease.

Greengenes and Douchebags

Here’s yet another sad reminder of what happens when a once cute hottie gets ravaged by the forces of extreme douchebaggery. Creepy ear-‘bling Mohawk ‘Bag is so many sorts of wrongness it’s like douche tidal-wave. Note his ‘bag headbutt. Like a moth to flame, he pollutes the cutess until ‘bag hand gestures start popping out of her like fleas in a Tijuana motel at 2am.

Greengenes must be some local punk band. We need a special category for the Rocker ‘Bag. Just above Metro ‘Bag but below Jersey Scrote on the spew scale.

Sadly this cutie is beyond hope. like Fair Maiden Yasmine Bleeth, she has been ravaged by the Grieco virus, never to come back.

That being said, I would still hum Kronos Quartet melodies while slapping myself with a dead salmon just for the chance to ammoniate that Diamelle pendant she bought on the Home Shopping Network last week.

15 Yard Penalty — Douching

Someone blow the whistle, we have a 15 yard penalty for douching on Referee ‘Bag here. Tack on another 5 yards for, uhm, Yellow Bandanaing.

Oh heck, look at that mug, just throw this scrote out of the game. Can you throw a ref out of the game for douching? Someone check the rule book.

I loves me some Midwestern corn-fed stalks of, well, corn. I would tackle that U.N. like Khrushchev.

Friday Haiku

Befuddled Ass Chin,
Step away from the girl, choad,
Pillows not for you.

From douchebag out!:

Our cleavite is safe,
That’s just her gay hair dresser.
Now I spank in peace.

From Amerigo Vesdouchey:

Dear cleavite sporter:
Carmen E. pales next to you.
Wake up…shed douche poo.