HCwDB of the Week: The Choadmonster
This week’s finalists split votes practically right down the middle, and by middle I mean split-lip herps, with all three finding proponents of their hottie/douchey contradictions to merit support for a Finals Win.
But in the end the punch-worthy face of The Choadmonster, as well as his precious lithe nectarine hottie in the middle, was a toxic combo too strong to overcome.
douchius malfoy breaks down the finalists:
Snowflake exceeds the other two in douchosity,but he looks so over-processed that I bet he at least smells pretty.
Choadmonster evokes a perfume mingling sweat, beer, Irish Spring, with a faint hint of cigar smoke, and a prickly hint of ass stink. He definitely achieves true scrotitude, but, alas, he still appears to shower–if only occasionally…and by occasionally, I mean probably once in a fortnight.
Therefore, measuring on a scale of intensely foul Perfume Le Douche, my vote goes to Electric ‘Bagaloo. His neck skin betrays startling fungal growth, and I’m certain some truly putrid sweat pools hide beneath those barely-concealed shoulders.
Douchius M wasn’t the only fan of the combo hott/tatt wrongness of our latest ambiguously Indian Princess. As ‘bagamemnon puts it:
Only one of the choads make me want to grab the first DiMarini I can find and and send his head into the cheap seats, and that would have to be ‘Bagaloo. That and I’m diggin’ on Pocahooter’s wampums.
Funny, but there isn’t a single 10 degree hat to be found in this week’s choices. Just an observation.
Nice catch, ‘bagamemnon. But while Douchius and ‘bagamemnon cast in with The Electric ‘Bagaloo, the hotness of Pocahontas II wasn’t enough to capture the win. Rounding out the three, ‘bag to the bone was captivated by the absurdities that argue against both intelligent design and evolution found in The Crystalline Snowflake:
Snowflake (Don King in photonegative) in a runaway. Canola oil facial, retro pleather David Soul jacket over forced-open Boca Raton retiree shirt revealing shaved pecs is the pinnacle of choadiness. I would rather lance an infected hemorrhoid with a plastic cocktail fork and squat over a pan of alcohol than look at his scrote face another second. And yet I can’t look away.
Nice verbal shredding, B to the B, although I’m not sure I quite needed that imagery so early this morning. But in the end, this was Choady’s week. As ol’ dirty douchebag puts it:
It’s close between Bagaloo and Choadmonster. Both have the requisite characteristics for the title. Bag hand, grease, doucheface, scrote tats. The whole package. However, I can not figure out what the vertical stripe, herpes, disfigurement, lip ring scar, etc. is on Choady’s lower lip so I’ll cast my ballot for ChoadMonster.
Well said, O.D.D.
Give it up to Choadmonster, and book his confused, befuddled, semi-conscious mug a ticket in the Monthly Finals.
And by punch him a ticket, I mean punch him in the scrotum. With a giant hacky sack.
