Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Sunday Choadies

Clearing out the ole’ pic attic on a Sunday and had to serve up this douche-posse surrounding the lone HC they could snag for a pic.

Can’t tell if she’s a cocktail waitress or simply a college hottie who got tackled by AquaBag and before she knew what hit her, was surrounded by what Freud describes as “Douche Transference.” What’s with the variety of head coverings, choadies? Cactus Hair is much more effective. And by effective, I mean uberdouchey.

Your humble narrator, the DB1, is hungover and smelly. Spicy Indian dishes make my armpits smell like cabbage. Not a good discovery.

Wrinkle Turd

Just keep on keepin’ on, Gramps.

Wayne's World

When did the metallic rosary beads become the new “3” Dog Tag? And won’t somebody please bring back the Jesus Bling and 10 Degree Hats? I so miss 2006.

I would love Tia Carrera Wayne’s World hottie with schwing goodness.

Friday Night

Just remember kids, if you’re out and about tonight and you look around and see this image in front of you, leave.

Leave immediately.

The Dutch-bag

And then there’s Dutch-Bag, the Eurodouche, the Scroatian. Plastic skin oozing of Germanic butter creames and Tuscan hair gels. Shirts smelling vaguely of toblerone and riccola. With forehead gleaming in the light like the ancient Norwegian fjords, and hair spiked like southern Spanish forests of early spring, the Eurodouche dances like only he can dance. His nasal accent sings with indeterminate boutique hotel lobby resonance.

A fully lathered up work of renaissance art, the Eurodouche inspires post-colonialist douche-rage across much of the subcontinent.

Leopard Princess, however, makes me want to Arch my Duke while feudalizing the proletariat.

Everybody Do the Oompa!

Looks like the Oompa Prompa craze is spreading like wildfire. And by wildfire, I mean creepy scrotebags.

I’m still in the process of upgrading the servers so if you occasionally get an “access denied” when visiting, it’s just due to temporary site overload. Simply hit reload and the site should come up fine. And by fine, I mean boobies.

Also while I appreciate the 60 or so submissions of Tuberculosis On the Airplane Guy and his apparently hottie wife, please stop sending. I’d need at least some Jesus Bling or ‘Bag Hand Gesture #184 to go with that T.B. before posting.

EDIT: A reader alerted me to DListed ripping off Prompa without a HCwDB credit. Lame.

Balcony Bag

Many have asked me, DB1, can you give us another example of what you call the “Terminal Bleeth State,” the point at which a Hottie’s exposure to uber-‘Bag has reached isotopic douchecay and can not be redeemed.

It is hard to quantify exactly when a Hottie crosses the event horizon. It occurs somewhere between the moment of early giant sunglass growth, the sprouting of ‘Baguette hand gestures, and reaching crisis with the combo smug pout and shirtless douche embrace maneuver.

Pity this lithe dark haired cutie, lost to the dark world of uber-douche. For, like mandana boy’s receding hairline, she is never to return.

That being said, I would juggle baby raccoons dressed in a burka just for the chance to filter tea through her stockings.

Friday Haiku

Greasy forehead shines
With light of a thousand scrotes,
Beware, the douche-face.

mine own angst and rage
in douchebag’s head reflected,
ere gaze finds booty.

— douche of earl

Hottie’s curves ensnare
Yet burnished forehead blinds us
Smarmy sack of scrote

— baron von douchehausen

Matthew Perry ‘bag,
Like Chandler, you’re a huge douche.
Douche-face stupifies.

-Amerigo Vesdouchey