Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Grease His Pain

I never understood why they cut out that scene from early cuts of “Field of Dreams” where Kevin Costner drives to Jersey after the voices in the field tell him to “Grease His Pain.” I read that they filmed it but in editing they felt that a side treck to help a douchebag recover from his oily stench wouldn’t fit with the larger motif of a man’s struggle to make peace with his dead father’s memory.

Too bad.

Apparently this low slung half unbuttoned country shirt, fake gold necklace and hair implant forehead line seem to work wonders with the cuties. If You Grease it, They Will Come.

As to the power of this poobag’s douche force, it is strong. Quite strong. That blue bikini reveal on Terri Hatcher Hottie appears to defy all known laws of the universe in its anti-gravitational suspension. And for that I say God bless you Richard Feynman. Without violating the known laws of physics, hottie panties would have no means by which to levitate.

Zombie Cage

Zombie Nicholas Cage says, “Don’t forget to vote in the HCwD of the Month contest!”

Then he and Zombie Matt Dillon attempted to
eat Young Arianna Huffington’s brains.

Thank God Douche Lee showed up or it really would’ve gotten out of hand.

HCwD of the Month

Namaste,

Before we get to this month’s ultimate scrote-off, lets all take a moment to Zen ourselves. I want each and every one of you to close your eyes and let all thoughts of douchebaggery and the hotties they pollute leave your mind.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Now shake out all that excess douchebaggery floating around in your consciousness from the past few weeks of pics, and slowly open your eyes.

Perhaps you’re wondering how you’re supposed to close your eyes and follow these steps while reading a computer screen. Do not. That is your shakra speaking. It is merely the superego trying to distract you.

When you’ve followed these steps, you will be refreshed and ready to cast your gaze anew at the finalists for “Hot Chick with Douchebag of the Month.” Stare as if with virginal eyes at these four pics of douchey rank spew comingling with sexy hotness, and judge which rises to the top of the proverbial douche-heap. Which knob and his girl makes your head spin with existential crisis and Godless angst. Only with a fresh approach can we be fair (especially since D.D. is entering legend status). So without further ado, here are the finalists.

HCwD of the Month Candidate #1: Douche Vortex

I know. You want to jump down to Donkey Douche. But this is where your meditation comes into play.

Zen yourself.

Gaze anew at this scrotey/hottie combo. Observe the grease. Observe the Holy Blue Triangle.

Observe the Grieco virus jumping like fleas from left to right.

Feel that soul wrench? Allow it to pass.

Then consider the Vortex as a worthy entry for HCwD of the Month.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Namaste.

HCwD of the Month Candidate #2: Donkey Douche

I’m not sure if this is a contest or a coronation, as the D.D. is one of the great finds of the last few months. I’ve also unfairly balanced this month’s contest by posting numerous supplimentary pics of this choad’s monkey like douchiness. But hey, what are ya gonna do. I’m a drunk douchebag.

However, grasshoppers, let us not forget that today’s contest involves the Zen Douchitude of clearing one’s mind of all clutter. As of now, this is the only D.D. pic in competition. Let us clear our thoughts, hold Douche-Warrior #2 Pose, and consider anew the rank spew of the Donkster and his key lime pie hottie.

She is all that is Holy and Good in the Universe. As electrons, protons and neutrons circle each other, she is the real force that guides the universe.

I would lick her cleavite like a dehydrated Nun in the sub-Saharan dessert.

HCwD of the Month Candidate #3: The Mug

The Mugster is what we like to call “Classic HCwD.” The Mugster is to ‘baggy/cutie combos what Skynyrd is to classic rock or David Faustino is to classic former sitcom stars who saw their career ruined by Seth Green.

Muggy is classic douche, with mandana, smug expression and ‘bag hand gesture. He’s got all the requisite traits. And the cuties are sweet innocent flowers with a dirty-grrl tip.

And holding ‘Bag Hand Gesture #49 while clutching a leather jacket has to be a novel approach to the HCwD pic.

Speaking of sketch, I didn’t include Sketch in the HCwD of the Month contest because I prefer the three pic douche-off to the four pic circle of confusion, and not to mention Sketch appears to be too young to rightfully face enshrinement as a Monthly winner.

To paraphrase Wally Moose, you have to be “this douchey” to get on this ride.

So what say you, people? Is it a runaway slam dunk for D.D.’s enshrinement?

Why Ladies Love the Scrote

In one of the comments threads, jailergrrl posits one theory why ladies put up with the grease:

Here’s the way that HC’s and Wanna-be’s forgive ourselves for falling into the oily pit that’s sometimes left after the ‘Bag slides on his grease trail into another Hottie: it’s called DRUNK, HORNY, and in non-reflective light, the Maestros de Douche don’t shine, baby. What chick WOULDN’T want to take a ride on a Buff Bag? Turn off the lights, and put oil blotters on the bed! Then get them out the friggin door before you sober up and realize what you’ve done! Let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. Don’t wanna see your Le Douche face.

Hmm, interesting theory. Could J.G. be right? Are women willing to put up with mandanas, unearned dog-tags, an oil slick foreheads for the chance to “take a ride on a Buff Bag”?

I’m afraid the evidence is compelling.

Is jailergrrl telling us the cold hard truth we’re afraid to admit? Are the hotties willing to ride the proverbial grease stain if it means a successful trip down the far side of the O-llercoaster? The painful truth is that J.G. appears to be right.

That’s it. I’m hittin’ the gym and buying hoop earrings.

Danny Bonnadouchey

In honor of regular poster Danny Bonnadouchey, here’s the actual Danny Bonaduce acting, well, bonnadouchey. I hate to take it out on a Partridge, but so it goes when you pose for a pic looking like this.

There’s gotta be some form of linguistic hyper-convergence going on in the semiotic ramifications of this pic. Duce Douche douchiness. Like having a kid in the schoolyard named Bully McNobodylikes. The literal rendering of abstract through name signification is enough to make one head’s spin.

The Chronicles of Riddouche

And since we’re having a weeked of visits from old friends here at HCwD, Pin Diesel wanted to drop in and promote his new film, “The Chronicles of Riddouche.” He’d also like to make the DB1 stick his tongue in an electric cheesegrater given the hotness he’s currently able to pull without once changing his douche-face’s oily expression.

Man.

That’s an overwhelming three pic run of old friends here at HCwD. And by “friends” I mean the DB1 now needs to go shower. With lysol.

Orange 'Bag Lives

And for those who doubted whether December’s legendary Orange ‘Bag was a real douche or simply simu-douche, here is irrefutable proof that The ‘Range is allliiiiiveeee…. its alllliiiiiiveee!!!

Looks like the ‘Range has picked up a douche bud. Which is sort of like lint attracting more lint. Especially if the lint is a roly polly ball of orange skin.

Regardless, it’s nice to see The O Face in action once again. And by “nice” I mean “soul killing.”

D.D.

Getting ready for Monday’s HCwD of the Month faceoff, and still recovering from his DoucheSport encounter with Douche Lee, Bat Boy and the legendary Cro ‘Bagnon, D.D. just wanted to thank all his fans for their support. And by “fans” he means “those who mock.”

She is just god damn lovely. I may have to knaw my arm off just for the chance to fondle those J.C. Penny bracelets.

Chicken Boy and the Holy Cleavite

People often say to me, “DB1, tell me, what is Holy Cleavite?”

And I do not answer.

Because, like the Zen Master Douche Lee, words can not adequately express this spiritual notion. It must be ascertained on a higher level of consciousness.

And by “higher level of consciousness,” I speak, of course, of the DB1’s head buried within its cavernous subterrane grottos.

This dude looks like a cross between a mutant animal from The Island of Doctor Moreau and the chicken-girl from Tod Browning’s Freaks. I don’t know whether to make fun of his shirt or toss him pellets for lunch.

'Bag / Not a 'Bag

I’m having a hard time pegging Badda Bing ‘Bag here. Is he simply a kind and honorable gentleman who just happens to work in construction and collect voluntary gifts from local businesses?

Or is he a stage-1 ‘bagger?

I’m edging towards nice family guy, mainly because I’ve watched too many Sopranos episodes.

But that gets to the real reason I’m posting this pic. Leopard Print Luscious. That’s the sexiest shoulder I’ve seen since lunch. But what’s with the murky-ass pea soup drinks?