Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

'Bag / Not a 'Bag

This young college lad is probably not even a stage-1er, but I really like that blonde cutie, so figured I’d throw it out for the crowd to give the Up/Down verdict on his ‘bag status.

Note there is a semi headbutt and tongue gesture.

Oh who am I kidding. He’s not much of a ‘bag. But she’s a coed hottie.

So lets stare.

Friday Haiku

Lost at sea, two souls
Good Will Douching, sharkbait choad.
Scarf abs, seagulls weep.

On holy cleavite
I do gaze slack-jawed, amazed
Toss scrote overboard

~ Doucharellious

Velvet skin of hot
Come away from the scrate bag
Rip picture in half

— rip van wanker

Blank stare, forehead grease
A gathering storm of douche.
Can great whites smell Axe?

-Good Will Doucheing

Douchebag Mariner
Release that fair albatross
Avoid the foul curse

— danny bonnadouchey

Xenu

I always wondered what the alien warlord that Scientology is founded on looks like. Now I know.

And to think, Tom Cruise prays to this?

Facebag

Uhm… yeah.

Euro-Trash Bag

And while we’re celebrating Indy’s eurotash win in the HCwD of the week, a reader snapped this pic of yet another Eurotrash Bag in Europe last summer and confirms that he is indeed both heterosexual and total douchebag.

Euro-Trash Bag, or as I like to call him, Euro TB, makes me long for rats dipped in plague coming ashore off deep sea cargo ships.

I think I’m attracted to the tiny brunette tonguing Euro T.B.’s armpit. But, then again, that’s just wrong enough to gross me out.

What I do know is whatever mutation the Grieco Virus performed in Europe, it’s almost become a seperate plague. I mean look at this guy. Someone needs to chart the virus mutation Galapagos style over there.

HCwD of the Week: Indiana Scrote and the Temple of Blonde

A worthy HCwD of the Week winner, Indiana Scrote seems to want to whip his idol to those two amazing short rounds in front of him.

And she is perfection. Maybe not as pure sex as “Hot” was a few pictures down, but fantastic nonetheless. Sure she’s probably Miami annoying. Which is annoying x 10. But right now she’s lovely. And I’d love her presence for a resounding 75 seconds or so. Because I’m studly like that.

But back to the vote. kentucky fried douche sumed up the challenge:

This weeks contest is a difficult one. While Pumpy obviously conquered last week, these are secondary scrotebags compared to him. Temple of the Blonde Hottie is definetly the tastiest dish, which gives Indiana Scrote extra bonus points. His weasel like gaze provides insight into his douche filled soul. Westbank is scrote worthy is his own right. He looks like an arabic Sean Paul and scores big time for the scrotebag hand gestures. Willy Wanker is just a run of the mill Brit, seriously pissed off, but still deserves an honourable mention. This contest has to go to Raiders of the Lost Scrote. Indiana Scrote takes a marginal win!

DuckDuckDouche agrees:

Indiana Douche and the Temple of Fine PoonTang. So lurky, so k-fed like, so f’in lucky to be backing that crispy piece of swank tang. He looks a little confused, has to be to wear that silly lid. After much consideration, the Squint and tan sealed the deal. I have to go with Humphrey Bagart. Frankly Douche, you make want to dip myself in honey and sit on a fire ant hill.

Indy takes it for me….

That’s not to say Westbank didn’t get some love for bringing the douche to an international state of pure douchitude. As david douchecovney puts it:

My first instinct was to vote for Westbank Side. But then my “instincts” told me that Balboa didn’t stand a chance against Drago in Rocky IV. So I consulted the rationale of my colleague ‘slayers and came away impressed by the myriad arguments. Cracking job ladies and gents!

There was something strangely hopeful about Westbank’s blinged out state of ‘baggery. To paraphrase the winner of the cold war, Rocky Balboa, “If I can grease, and you can grease… we all can grease!”

Wee Willy was a distant third, and he’s so angry about it, he’s going to hunt each of you down and glare at you bizarrely. But he did inspire at least a few angry reactions to his douchitude. And it’s important to remember that part of the refined aesthetic of a truly superior HCwD pic is the irrational and primal rage it causes in the viewer. All three of these pics didn’t have a high rage factor, but Wee Willy did bring up a certain bile in the back of my throat, and for that he deserves at least momentary recognition.

But this week, it was Indy Scrote’s chance to shine. And by shine I mean Eurobags suck. jstanley01 makes the connection:

He’s about as Indiana as Armand Peugeot. This cigarette-holder puffin’, old-money French-puke’s normal bag-wear no doubt consists of a silk bathrobe whose fleur de lis pattern matches the penthouse wallpaper. Here he’s been caught slumming-it, trying to make like a cow-poke in pursuit of a babe-poke. Meanwhile babe-a-licious, in her locket, still carries the snap of “Troy” taken “that weekend” at the lake.

Nicely done J.S. A verbal smack-down of impressive stature. baron von goolo continues the impressive verbal gymnastics in this week’s thread as he eviscerates the Temple of Blonde’s unholy archeologist:

I would hang with Westside to gain his trust and get him to fix my computer. And WWW: I’m getting more dick than douche off of him. So the iScrote takes my vote. Not only is Jailbait Barbie whiplash hot, there’s something about iScrote’s pinched avian leer makes me want to lynch a smooth jazz DJ.

Excellent work, B.V.G. Lots of you were clamoring for the Rooster, so I’ve decided to toss his plucky ass into next week’s HCwD so we can give him a pecking chance. So stop yer crowin’. It’ll also give us one more chance to wonder over the perky beauty that is the Holy Blue Triangle, now in her third or fourth appearance on the site (sadly with new douchebag each time). Also Truck Head may be receiving an honorary spot in the Hall of Scrote in the section of my future ex-wives. I just can’t get over that brunette. Perfection.

But for now, we raise The Scrote Adventurer to the rafters for next month’s HCwD of the Month smack down. And we get ourselves a bowl of Frosted Flakes. And by we I mean me.

Great comments thread, everyone. A quality level of analysis of the hottie/scrotey wrongness that befits a worthy ‘bag hunting operation.

'Bag / Not a 'Bag

It’s math formula time, kids.

Boob grab + puka necklace /(forehead grease/smirk) =

a) Toady Stage-1 Fratbag
b) Skeezy uber-douche
c) Typical generic putz
c) Mmm… boobs

Fall Out 'Bag

That’s right.

I’m referencing an emo band that’s referencing a Simpsons episode that’s referencing a comic book.

Baudrillard. Simulacrum. The copy supercedes the original. A reflectivity of refraction in which the simulation becomes the real. And so it goes.

And so we have Fall out ‘Bag. A tongued out scrote that even Gandhi would sandal in the nads.

Oh, and Hot. That is her name. Hot. No other verb will suffice. She defines the concept. She personifies the signification.

Hot.

I would burn my tongue on the stove of her beauty just to taste of that flame.

Emo Douche #213

It’s like I’ve been slapped in the face with a wet smelly diaper that looks like Angela Lansbury. Because it’s wrinkled and white. And so’s Angela Lansbury. I probably didn’t need to explain that.

That dress makes Schrodinger’s Cat choose life.

Browless McBag

The cutie’s your average Vegas waitress chicka, not superstar hot but she’s got a nice smile and a sexy little arm. But what’s with the orange/white two tone color shaved head look on Browless here? I haven’t seen anything that sandpapered since 6th grade wood-shop class. It’s like his face is a 1960s polished formica kitchen table. Hey, that could get big bucks on ebay.

Hang in their waitress chicka. The shift is almost up.