Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Scrote Testing

A new branch of genetic science has begun to isolate the spreading Grieco Virus using a number of innovative methodological approaches. Called “Scrote Testing,” these modern scientific techniques have begun to isolate key factors in the development of a ‘bag’s unholy douchitude and ability to smear his grease on any neighboring cuties within his reach.

Thanks to these modern technological breakthroughs, ‘bags can now trace their ancestral douchitude using a triangulation method. This process pinpoints The Baio, The Grieco and The Swayze as key historical vector points. Much like DNA analysis, Scrote Testing uses a number of factors to determine historical lineage. Note Wank #1 on the left. His lineage directly traces to the Grieco and the Baio. While Wank #2 involves Moby and The Swayze clans mating with a shreiking rhesus monkey.

I would love Darryl Hannah hottie with amazonian fondness.

Blue Triangle II

Looks like our Former HCwD of the Week winning Hottie, Blue Triangle, cashed in her Vortex of scrote for Federline ‘Bag here.

It’s hard to say whether this is trading up or down.

Kind of like trading in your goiter for black lung.

Mr. Clean

Her look says it all: Step away from the butt, Cleaning Product Cartoon Spokesman.

This tasty “gettable” cutie has that girl next door vibe. She may not be the hottest girl in the bar, but she’ll be the best after you go home. You just know she can, uhm, mix a cocktail. Shake a martini? Stir a… okay I’ll stop.

Beefy Bartender ‘Bags haunt the urban landscape like gypsy moths. I’d swat him away with a fly swatter, then sugar free her red bull.

HCwD of the Week: StewBag

A strong round of arguments for all three HCwD finalists, but in the end the love on the site for Stewbag and Maggie was too much. I guess it was pretty obvious that Cheese only made the cut because I’m in love with that sultry haired bad girl in so many permutations and combinations. That’s what I get for falling over too far on the HC side of the equation.

Although Curly/Shemp did make me want to poke his eyes out. Wifebeater also had his fans, but in the end, the hotness of Maggie (and her appearance in the comments thread) may have been too much to overlook. Or maybe it’s simply Stewbag’s unholy green shirt. That shirt hates the baby Jesus.

Greekbag throws some love maggies way:

Maggie’s Baggie edges Cheese out in a close one for me. Cheese’s facial expression makes me want to rip my eyes out so I don’t ever have to see such a precious little bundle of hotness being rubbed up on by her creepy uncle. But LenoBag in Maggie’s Baggie takes the cake…. I’m sorry, I might have a hotties-with-tans-and-jet-black-hair fetish, but she makes my world turn. Too bad shes about to get a huge bruise on her cheek after LenoBag’s chin makes contact.

i vote for Maggie’s Baggie

Nicely put, Greekbag. The anger factor is definitely high with Stewie’s spiked dome. But The Wifebeater did find some love. And by love I mean your moms. Douchehunter sums up the appeal:

For me it’s #1: The Wifebeater.

This classic douche apparel is long overdue in getting its recognition, for it has appeared several times on such classic HOS douches like Socrates. It is time to give The Wifebeater its due like Scorsese.

Many are claiming The Wifebeater is indeed Socrates Douche. I don’t see it, but it’s certainly possible. If so, credit to the Soc for finding new ways to morph his douchebaggery and appear on the site. But newbiedouche responded to the late push by some of the regulars for The Wifebeater with the following exemplary logic:

Fellas. Fellas. I think we are missing some winning elements of Rod Stewdouche here. 1) Douche has actually gone to a professional stylist and put those douchy highlights in his hair. 2) He appears to be holding in his left hand either an oversized suppository, unidentifed illicit drug (perhaps the source of the micky he slipped her and the reason such a tremendous beauty is with Zitty the Clown?), and/or a piece of chalk. 3) Some dude in the foreground is touching his own ass and leg at the same time. WTF?

Strong argument, ND. And Indiana Douche and the last Douchebag takes it home for Stewie after the requisite panting over Maggie’s hotness:

My vote has to go to Rod Stewart ‘bag. He’s got the best combination of do-able hottie and excruciatingly vomit-inducing douchebaggery.

And so we welcome Stewbag to the next round, gearing up for the HCwD of the Month smackdown in two weeks. I’ve decided to extend the weekly one more week so we’ll have four worthy candidates in the Monthly douche-off. And by “worthy,” I mean I need to get some breakfast.

Welcome Sponsors: vividseats.com and Mate1.com

I’d like to welcome two sponsors to the site this month, Vividseats.com a sports and concert ticket broker, and Mate1.com. These sites and our other sponsors will help to keep the hottie/scrotey mocking coming, so check ’em out and help keep HCwD running.

Cowbag here welcomes both sponsors to the site, and if you need tickets to an event or a hottie to take to said event, both sponsor sites should have you covered. Presumably as a fan of the site, vividseats.com will not be offering tickets to see Bluntbag, but you never know.

And if anyone else would like to advertise here on HCwD, you can click via the Blogads link on the left or drop me a line at douchebag1@hotchickswithdouchebags.com

It’s been amazing to see the site grow so rapidly as our sociological and semiotic critique of hottie/douchebaggery enters its second stage of critical analysis. Rest assured fellow ‘bags, ‘bag hunters and hotties, our hunt to root out the spreading mold that is scrote/cutie comingling, wherever it tries to hide, has just begun.

Hopefully in the next few weeks I’ll be rolling out some new features on the site to make it more interactive and to better enable our collective judgement of the hotties and grill sporting wankoffs to shine. I’m still working out the details as we speak, but good things are in store.

Ghost Rider

The Ghost’s love of lollipops on display once again, rivaled only by his love of greasy douchiness. We might need to form a Hall of Scrote committee hearing on The Ghost’s entry. Note the ear/neck tat and oiled up forehead you could fry bacon on. That’s a pretty impressive run of douchebaggery.

And of course, the rare ‘Bag Lollipop Gesture #02, in which scrotitude is demonstrated by using a lollipop and a camera pose to attempt hottie tongueing. Definitely notable.

And yes, that appears to be Tissue Hottie, aka Maggie, aka Stewartbag’s Hottie, suggesting one of my ‘bag hunters drilled into a potent stream while searching for scrote that has borne much fruit.

And by fruit I mean poo.

Bluntbag Lives

Last August, after endless commercials playing “You’re Beautiful, You’re Beautiful” made me want to sodomize nuns, I gave BluntBag an honorary HCwD of the Month. Figuring this skinny tube of toothpaste would soon be relegated to poker chip games with Adam Duritz and Mark McGrath, I blocked his pale, pasty visage from my mind’s eye.

Of course I’d heard the supermodel rumors. But I performed a mental “la la la, I can’t hear you!” and with the power of selective consciousness, was able to continue my life.

But this pic, courtesy of The Superficial, is just too damn much. If anything proves the power of the BluntBag’s unholy scrotilicious douchitude, this is it.

Please tell me this ‘bag cut a deal with the Devil and will be playing pound the cornhole with Leopold and Loeb in the afterlife. Otherwise I can’t accept the reality of this wrongness. It’s like having an electric drill shoved into my uvula.

Gunter and Klaus

Nothing beats staring at a collection of sweaty Hungarian cab drivers rubbing up on Sue Jenson from Wichita, Kansas while sipping a coffee.

Gunter and Klaus just love meeting American women at the local clubs, shouting at them in broken English over the pounding Gnarls Barkley remix, then downing sixteen Vodka and Red Bulls before the heart palpitations kick in at 4am. Can you blame them?

Oh, and my socks were in the kitchen. How’d they get in there? Stupid Xenu with his Scientology warlords sneaking into my apartment again last night and moving my socks around. I’m still not reading Dienetics, sock stealers.

Ghost and Ms. Chick

I don’t quite know what’s going on in this pic, what with Ghost accosting a girl using lollipops and his chest as a douche battering ram.

Then again, I don’t know where my socks are, either.

Has anyone seen my socks?

No, I already checked behind the couch.

Kellogg's Frosted Fakes

Mmm… Frosted Fakes. Part of this nutritious breakfast. And by breakfast I mean douche.

Here’s a classic example of a young lass who didn’t heed the warnings of Fair Maiden Bleeth. Prolonged exposure to this sneering Tony the Tiger and she’s gone.

It’s sad. She’s good good skin. Presumably good teeth. The inflated airbags means a discount on my car insurance.

And yet, like The Bleeth before her, she’s collapsing from within due to the centrifigal force of ultimate ‘baggery. Too much Douche Cereal in the mornings, Phoebe. Next time, choose Grape Nuts.