Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Meat

Creepy wannabe Boogie Nights retro truck drivers from Iowa need to have fun on Friday nights, too.

Isn’t that right, Meat?

The Zebra

Poppin’ collars mean it’s Friday, and Labor Day weekend no less.

Apologies to those of you at work if I’ve been posting too much skin the past few days. I try to keep my site family friendly and work safe, because I know how important it is for pre-teens as well as those with uptight bosses to be sure to study the ‘bag/hott plague on a daily basis.

Speaking of, if your work firewall blocks the enlightenment and spiritual balm offered here at HCwDB on a daily basis, you can always try accessing through the alternate URL:

http://www.hcwdb.com

Your humble narrator, The DB1, has a mellow weekend planned. Finishing my book. Eating many bowls of sugar cereal and tasty HoHos. Downing a few bottles of Thunderbird. Good times.

As to identically dressed hotties and ‘bags, woe is the creature that slouches towards Bethlehem to be born. But that arching back on Bleethed out future suburban Long Island mother of four on the left is very curvy.

Hoochie Koo

After years of bemused and perplexed contemplation during my monastic Zen meditations, I now finally understand the lyric Rock and Roll, hoochie koo.

Friday Hairku

My eyes, bleed through pores,
Rug of douche next to boobies,
Even lice say “no thanks.”

She is boobs and cute
Hairy Yank-me fan too close
Where is her navel

-Father Guido Sardoucheie

Hottie’s face too close
to Pit of Douchespair. Limp hand
Waits to catch vomit.

– lemon tart

Bag my groceries,
Nut-shorts and butter body,
Drinking peach Kool-Aid.

-Honus Bagner

Too bad this douchebag
does crop rotation on chest,
plans to infect hott.

— douchey howser, md

Qwerty

Collecting thoughts. Head exploding with rage/arousal conflict. Must speak.

Grooo!!…

Fweee!!…

Trying again

Bluhhh!!…

Aooogahhh??

C’mon, you can say something

Butt boobies!!

Well, it’s a start

HCwDB Euro Style

There’s nothing more gratifying to me than seeing the HCwDB go global.

This site has been featured all over the world, in numerous languages and dialects.

Mostly by confused Europeans and Japanese trying to figure out what “douchebag” means, and wondering if all Americans are low culture trash whores (hint: we are).

Nonetheless, this blog, in a language that may or may not be what the redhead hottie was speaking to Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers, is intriguing me:

———-
Heta brudar med fjantar

Massor med bilder på hot chicks with douchebags.
———–

Right back atcha, Euro people. I see there’s a “Kevin Federline” reference, so you’re on the right track.

I’m a big fan of Czech women. And strudel. And Doctor Who, although since England people speak English, they’re not really European.

England people are more like Ameripean.

At least since we told King George to kiss our tea and then conquered the world using mass media structures that enforced our cultural hegemony through ideological affect buried within the discourse.

And ran “Friends” reruns on their TVs 24/7 until the sight of Fat Chandler caused the world to surrender.

Moe Piscopo

This pic just confuses and terrifies me.

Where are we? Some motel room in Omaha? A swap meet in Tampa? A trailer park in Bismark?

Seriously. Look at Moe here.

He actually features circular tatts that echo his swirling douche-hair. Is that a first on the site? Douche-tatts and douche-hair forming a sort of conceptual echo?

Toss in the tonguebaggery, the tighty-blackey muscle t-shirt, and I’d sooner expect this oily greasebag to be playing footsies with Larry Craig in a Minneapolis bathroom than grabbing at some luscious abs.

Rosie Perez cutie isn’t super smokin’, but any minx willing to show off a belly that smooth, soft and lemon scented, deserves praise. And by praise I mean me staring at that glimpse of lower belly like I’ve just witnessed a unicorn. A unicorn of lower belly.

And who said we can’t do tautological metaphors?

Chasing the Doe

Some people drink coffee when they wake up.

Others get on a treadmill.

Me? I like to stare at a pic of a shirtless, sweaty delicious little doe hottie being trailed through a bathroom by two douched up urbanchoads.

Yeah.

Nothing quite fires up the pissed-offedness and gets the ole’ blood rushing in the morning quite like that.

Douche Gossage

In hunting hottie/doucheys in the wild, it is rare that we find a red carpet scrote busting three of the prime signifiers of uber douchebaggery.

1. Designer Yankees cap at proper 10 degree tilt that screams club choad.
2. Facial pubes in alternate tri-vag formation.
3. And, of course, the Jesus Bling. Which in this case is Moses Bling.

Chicka looks a little too “pro” which always takes away from my fantasies of innocent librarian hotties violating me in lurid and inappropriate ways somewhere between my Dewey and Decimal.

I haven’t been this shaken since the Nicole Eggert/Corey Haim sex scene in Blown Away.

Yes, I’ve seen Blown Away.

And yes, I may have paused my worn VHS dub on Nicole Eggert’s low-rent Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct moves.

Because, hey. Nicole Eggert.

'Bag / Not a 'Bag

Does having willowy cornfield hair that 17th Century Pilgrims harvested for trade with the Iroquois constitute ‘bag?

What other signs and signifiers give away choadpud?

Squat Ashlee Simpson Hottie has large arms, but I would still pillow dive with Dao bliss state.