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Friday, March 9, 2007
The Return of Grinny McCheesy
Grinny McCheesy, master cockblocksman who ruined my Thursday night last week, is still at at. Turns out he’s a friend of a friend, and by friend I mean poo.
Our mutual friend, and by friend I mean turd, sent me this pic of Grinny swarming a gaggle of cute last night and alerts me that the swath of douchitude the McCheese is cutting across Los Angeles is rapidly becoming legendary.
For my fellow Los Angeles denizens I’m putting out an Amber Douchelert. Be on the lookout for a tall, gangly stringbean who interrupts hottie talk by crashing into the conversation and spilling his vodka and soda on your jacket. Key signs that you are in the presence of McCheese include observing the rapid spread of douche virus, and the vague scent of burning wormwood.
Anyone to acquire evidence of Grinny caught in the act of spreading his douchitude gets a free HCwD t-shirt. Send all pic evidence, and by evidence I mean spew, to me, DB1.
Beware the McCheesy. For he is scrote.
Thursday, March 8, 2007Sid Bag Loves You
PIC DELETED
Siddharta Bag just wanted to let you know that from his place of enlightenment, he loves you.
He asks that you worship his oily forehead and spikey frosted hair, while admiring his dimpled Leno chin and casually unbuttoned tuxedo shirt that says, “Formal with a Grunge Tip.”
Sid has spoken. Sid loves you.
Do you love him?
Thursday, March 8, 2007Purple Pez Bag
I wasn’t aware pez dispensers were now scoring hotties. I would shove a grape pellet down his guzzle, then sell him in the 50% off bin at Wallmart.
Long Island hottie’s Holy Cleavite sparkles with the merest glimpse of pale skin straining to be set free. I can hear the Holy Cleavite, whispering to me on the wind.
I rub the Holy Cleavite, and a Holy Cleavite Genie appears in front of me.
It says:
DB1, nuzzle me with your nose while you make weird hiccuping sounds, and I will grant you three boobie wishes. They’re like regular wishes, only they involve the power of the boobies.
And I wish for Purple Pez Bag to fall face first on a lawn dart then get eaten by mutated piranha in the east river.
But these are only boobie wishes. And since this wish doesn’t involve boobies, it doesn’t come true. So I wish for more boobies instead. And there are more boobies.
And life is good.
Thursday, March 8, 2007Coffee Bag
Ahhh….
It’s like waking up with a fresh brewed cup of coffee. If that coffee tasted like spew.
I would steal third world babies and sell them to Angelina Jolie just for the chance to stir-fry shreds of that pink top into my next order of lo mein.
Thursday, March 8, 2007The Eunuch
“All men cannot receive this saying, save they to whom it is given. For there are some eunuchs, which were so born from their mother’s womb: and there are some eunuchs, which were made eunuchs of men: and there be eunuchs, which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it. “
Matthew 19:11-12
Thursday, March 8, 2007'Bag Tags
Reader pfah managed to capture a closeup on The Ghost’s ‘Bag Tags, which I think adds nuance and depth to our exploration of the douche’s internal complexities.
Perhaps they simply want to be held.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007The Leopard
Coming off the rank douchitude of the HCwD of the week, as well as another ghost pic, I had to go with an innocent if aspiring bagling. There’s something sort of cute about busting the leopard print coat. Kind of like when a six year old puts on a suit and tie. A douchey suit and tie.
As to Douche Lee, the photog who captured his Holy Spirit confirms that he is, indeed, classified as male according to physiologic standards. Although his true spiritual embodiment rises above simple gender binaries.
Do not question the Douche Lee. For his holy spirit echoes the Grieco across the metaphysical douche universe.
As to the Leopard. Stage-1 ‘baglings are more amusing than annoying. But in this case, that shirt inspires at least a minimum spew worthiness.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007Enter: The Ghost!!
Wait, what’s that over in the corner?!?
It’s the Ghost!! And he looks pissed, Bob!!
The Ghost is in the arena. And he’s moving towards the stage, grabbing the mike from Beastie Bag to address the crowd:
Ghost: Why y’all be haters?! Y’all don’t know me!! Y’all don’t know me!! Step off, beyoches!! I’m the Ghost!! I don’t need no votes for you HCwD of the Week contest, when I got this sweet sailor hottie right here to worship my dog-tags and shaved chest!! Kiss my bling, hatahs!!
And now the Ghost is picking up a chair, and flinging it into the ring!! Bob, this could get ugly…
But wait…
Is it…?
Douche Lee!!
Douche Lee is entering the ring, Bob!! He’s approaching The Ghost, who doesn’t know what to do. Now he’s putting his zen hand on The Ghost’s shoulder to calm him down, and picking up the mic…
Douche Lee: Ghost, if you do not settle down, I will be forced to thrash you. Beastie won. Accept your loss. Allow the Zen Douche spirit to soothe your pain. Grease up your forehead and The Grieco will show you the way to the higher path.
I believe in you, Ghost. I see your douche potential. Now put down the chair and let me buy you an energy drink.
And so peace was returned to the arena.
Sphincter.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007HCwD of the Week: Beastie Bag
Extremely tight vote this week, and by tight I mean sphincter. But in the end Beastie Bag squeaked out the win over Ghost on the sheer force of the innocence of his hottie.
Let there be no doubt, nothing is quite so wrong as seeing a sweet, wholesome midwestern peach get polluted by one lonely Beastie he be. Sphincter.
Although I did the tallying without pen and paper this morning because my head hurts from too much ‘Train. So it’s possible the Ghost actually won. But feh, it’s probably for the best, otherwise Maggie would be the hot chick in two of the four pics in Monday’s HCwD of the Month contest. And the permutations of the math would simply be too much for my sorry alcoholic hazed ass to attempt to figure out.
Did I mention sphincter?
Both Ghost and Justin Timberdouche received a fair amount of votes too, as this was a well balanced HCwDotW smackdown. popconservative makes the case for the Ghost:
The Ghost, and it’s not even close. Even if the HC is on the down side of Bleething (the fake Hell’s Angels gloves, etc.), that guy is far and away the douchiest of the bunch.
baron von goolo agreed:
Tough call. Mugger’s hottie is bringing Joy to my Luck Club, making Mugger’s scavenging leer that much more of a violation to all that is right with the world. But I have to give the nod to Ghost. His full body sheen threatens the lolly and the dolly with a slug-like coating of viscous douchery that no amount of Silkwood showers or Bestine could ever fully erase.
New reader ultra doosh extravaganza went for Mugger’s oily 80s Pop-Star wrongness:
Be it the MUGGER!!!
He sux so bad that even he knows it. Look at his lack of confidence. It is as if that chick coerced him into wearing that Janet Jackson get-up.
Hard to argue with that logic. But Amerigo Vesdouchey brings home the argument for the utter sphincter of Beastie and his perfect, all natural hottie goodness:
Beastie ‘bag (who BTW looks more like Add Rock than Mike D) has a lifetime of sweet homegrown lovin’ at his side. There’s no way in hell that this gay sweatshirt/cap wearing, ‘bag headbutt/hand gesture sporting douchebag has done anything to deserve her. He can shove that brass monkey, glass and all, right up his ass.
Beastie ‘bag gets my goat, and by goat, I mean vote.
And musclehead concurs:
Therefore, my vote goes for Beastie Bag. If for no other reason than his hottie is absolutely pristine. Hopefully she can be rescued before succumbing to the douche and becoming just another bleethed out waste.
fanny double douche agrees, taking home the prize for the B-Boy Scrote:
my vote is for beastie bag simply because i want to make b-boy bouillabaisse with his face. this dicko infuriates me. i can only hope those two fingers don’t smell like her easy-bake oven.
So there it is. Beastie moves on.
Looks like Maggie’s repeat appearances may have cost The Ghost some love. And by love I mean sphincter. So Beastie is in next week’s 4-pic all purpose smackdown douche extravaganza. And I’m off to have a bowl of coco-puffs.
Sphincter.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007V
It’s possible the sideways “V” hand gesture has some form of coded wigga significance I’m unable to ascertain. It could mean “Vest Side.” Or perhaps it’s “The Shocker” for men. Or maybe even, “I’m on my second day of employment at Best Buy.”
But what’s incontestible is the sideways “v” has achieved douche supremacy, far surpassing the outdated W of the “westside” movement (2005-2006) or its predecessor, the always classic “shocker” (2004-present).
So “sideways v” back atcha, Green Sparrow. May you fly straight, little bird. Fly straight.