Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Douchemobile

Reader Tom writes in with the following pic:

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Was driving the other day and came across this car…first I was lost for words, then I had to chase it down over 4 lanes of traffic for 1km to take a pic.

is there such a thing as a douchemobile?

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Yes. Yes there is.

Although your pic is like playing Grand Douche Auto. Where’s my gatt and 40 kilos?

Sunday Spew

So, hung over from a night of excess, I ponder my sunday morning. Coffee? Perhaps. A tasty bowl of Cocoa Puffs? Of course.

A rank frost tipped aging club-choad Piscopo with two pieces of arm candy?

Now I’m awake.

Mmm… they are lovely. If they could only lose the ‘bag of goiter, I would share my Cocoa Puffs with them. But not too much. Because I’m running low.

Retro Douche: Right Said Fred

Yeesh. I think I blocked this travesty from my subconscious for the last fifteen years.

Definitely ahead of their time douchebaggery for these muscle ass-clowns.

DB1 Interviewed on Y101

PIC DELETED

Your humble narrator on all things hottie/douchey, The DB1, was interviewed and named “Internet Hero of the Week” on Richmond’s Y101 last week. I may sound a little tired as the interview was done at 5:30 in the morning my-time, but checkitout.

And since I didn’t have a picture to run with this plug, here’s a sexy angular hottie with a tub of discount generic choad.

The Primitive Tool

I remember in 5th grade world history we learned all about how early nomadic cavemen and Neanderthals were the first to use primitive tools to build huts and cut down trees.

But my question is this. How exactly does one use a Primitive Tool like the one pictured here to do anything? I can’t even see lifting him in the air for any length of time, let alone using him to cut down a tree.

'Bag / Gangsta

Performative douchewank? Or gatt busting homie who will hunt me down, pop a cap in my ass, then eat all my cheerios and leave the fridge door open?

Depending on which way you vote, I’ve provided two alternative commentaries:

A. (performative douchewank) Nice mandana the size of a Buick, tighty-whitey muscle t and douche-bracelet there, Tex. Did the razor get repo’d in mid shave because you forgot to make the payments?

B. (actual gangsta) You are a scholar a gentleman, a benevolent and magnanimous contributor to humanity, kind sir. Thank you for coming to the Pomona fairgrounds, and here’s a free Orange Julius. Please do not pop a cap in my proverbial ass.

Well, douchewank or gangsta, I do know this.

I would love the silver belt buckle and the meaty arm I’d nibble tiny tooth crop circles into that would direct traffic for the alien landings.

Slapdance

Fish Slap wanted to come by and remind us that even if we have a ‘bag free and hottie filled weekend, he’s out there. Which should be enough to fire you up and send you out for the weekend with extra motivation.

Just knowing this guy is out there greasing on the hotties should be enough to tinge tonight’s alcohol binge with the slightest hint of melancholy.

He’s a choad. But that’s why I’m here. To mock his ass. And so it’s Friday Night. The ‘bags have been mocked. The hotties lusted after.

Good night moon. Good night douche by the light of the moon.

Hello boobies.

Puka Shell Paulie

I gotta give it up to Puka Shell Paulie.

Not only does he feature a chin of cartoonish surrealism, a vague aura of gender ambiguity, and the best peach fuzz mustache this side of a class of 7th graders in Osaka, but he’s completely oblivious to the Loopy Hotts to his left.

Don’t look now, Puka Shell, but the show is behind you.

The Quadrapadouchic

Aw, isn’t that sweet.

Taking care of her “special” friend so infested with douche virus that he’s dribbling little Griecos onto his chin.

You’re doing your part for humanity, sweetie. The world thanks you.

Class

See? He loves you, sweetie.