Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Leviathan

As we consider the hottie/douchey variations and permutations, the scrote/boob combos force us to consider our philosophical human condition itself.

Our culture. Our values.

And boobies.

The great philosopher Thomas Hobbes describes the natural state of the human condition as one of brutality, primitivity and pain. Without societal structure, Hobbes wrote that we would devolve into a state of natural chaos. A ‘war of all against all.’

I gaze at tatted up tongue-douche and I think to myself, Hobbes knew what was up.

The Apprentice

Oh pumped up sleeve rolled wannabe Pumpy.

You may appropriate the boob grab, but you will never come close to the Master.

For while you possess many of the douchetributes that are used to identify those of your ‘baguous ilk, there is something lacking.

Douche Aura.

You may emulate The Pumpy. But you do not yet comprehend the Tao of Scrote.

Keep learning, young one. Keep studying, young Kevin James in “The King of Queens” ‘bag.

The ways of the douche are not far off.

Wednesday Limerick

There once was a man named The Gator,
Whose favorite expression was “Don’t be a Playah Hater.”
His leathery chest,
Looked like a skin vest,
And his friends Chip and Chet weren’t much straighter.

College

Ah yes, College.

A time to expand one’s mind in the pursuit of knowledge.

A time to grow and find one’s self as a person.

A time when ridiculous suburban fratchoads score quality tail the heights of which they will never again come remotely close to scaling.

The imbalance between semi-annoying economics major sophomore frattoads and the 20 year old uber-hott is strong in this one.

I would make a blond/brunette PB&J sandwich, and enjoy with a chocolate YooHoo.

Angel of Purgatory

Purg Hottie says, “You there! Don’t forget to vote in the HCwDB of the Month contest!” Or at least that’s what I’m saying.

I would love her tiny succubus inner neck like a touchy-feely yoga instructor.

She is my Angel of Choadbaggery.

As to the rest of you, votes are still open. Scroll down and cast your vote in the Monthly.

The Gator

Since we’re going with an orange theme today, meet The Gator.

Orange like Gatorade.

Skin leathery like an alligator.

The Gator’s shiny schlong-n-balls mark of the ‘bag on his forehead confirms what should already be patently obvious.

We are in the presence of uber-douche.

The Gator has no need for hand gestures or bling. No 10 Degree Hat Tilt. No popped collar.

He is a tidal wave of sheer douche psyche. His eyes summon the spirits of global choadbaggery. His greased Khan-like chest overacts like a douched out Shatner.

Behold! The power of scrote.

MILF may or may not be preggers, which makes it awkward for me to suggest my desire to dry hump her feather duster she bought on the Home Shopping Network with three easy payments of $19.95.

Goallllllllllllllllll!!!!!

That’s it.

If fusball playing Bratwurst toads like Pepe here can score four Eurohotties, then I’m moving to Bulgaria and cashing in my chips.

And by chips I mean running up my credit cards until Interpol arrests my ass and deports me.

The Fauxhawk Fwip

Facial scruff + fwippy fauxhawk + Bono sunglasses are enough to make me sucker punch an alley cat in the testes.

I do love Scandinavian Marsha Brady twins though. If only for the combinations and permutations in my sick and perverted mind.

Speaking of Euroasafrica, I don’t know what language this is in, but HCwDB is getting a ton of traffic and discussion over the past few days from this site.

They sure do speak funny out in non-Americaland, don’t they?

The Spinning Jenny

In 1733 John Kay invented the Flying Shuttle. It revolutionized cloth and garment production and launched the industrial revolution.

I know this because it was on my 7th Grade history exam.

Now, 274 years later, giant douche-ass mandanas are plentiful and culturally ubiquitous.

I blame you, John Kay. Cursed be your ancestors.

Busty Blue Spinning Jenny is everything I want and dream of in an approachable bar maiden hottie. They had them in the 1730s, serving up Ale. And we have them today, serving up Ale.

God bless the Bar Maidens. Every time one boozes it up in a low cut blue bustier, an angel gets its wings.

The Orang-u-tans

Gentlemen.

You are orange.