Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Gator Jr.

To truly appreciate a paradigm shifting douche force like The Gator (now safely ensconsed in the Hall of Scrote), one need only observe the follow-up scrotes. The Jr. ‘Bags who emulate his choady iconography with 1/10th the ability.

Like a cheap knock off T.V. set, Gate Jr., has none of the pull, the affect, the power of douchal emination that is contained in the gale force douchebaggery that is The Gator.

But he tries. Like every wannabe, he’s doing his best.

And he does have the uberhot chicks. God damn. I would gnaw off my own earlobes using a time/space continuum just for the chance to wash, dry, fluff and fold Beauty’s two perfect Beasts.

So I’ll give him that.

Hottie Fan Mail

EuroBlonde writes in:

————

— (E.B)
————

Wish I had a better picture because those Dual Paprika ‘Bags apprear to be as choady as Euroblonde’s hint of swelling boobage is tasty.

Mmm… swollen bosom. A bosom that bespeaks a Utopian future of angels and ice cream. HoHos and Night Train for all.

Bo Knows Douchebaggery

Love the “bandito” look, Bo. But I can’t tell whether you’re about to play center field for the Kansas City Royals or you’re wearing a table cloth from a Chinese restaurant.

Nor can I tell why there’s a sideways peace sign making crack ferret jumping into frame.

But the MILFs are tasty in that sexy Parent-Teacher conference way. I’d ask them to discuss little Tommy’s C- in History, and then I’d ravish them by the arts and crafts area.

The Warthog

I can’t tell if this is the same douche-mutant as last year’s The Warthog, because I can’t stare into that gaping maw long enough without wetting myself out of fear, revulsion and horror.

Nor can I take the time to appreciate the Dutch Girl Hotties. He’s just too disturbing.

We should, however, give credit to the Warthog for his fantastic performance in that classic Twilight Zone episode. Because douchebaggery is in the eye of the beholder.

Except in this case.

That’s pretty much objective douchebaggy.

Friday Haiku

Beach boobs and sand crabs,
Asian Johnny Chase says “‘sup,”
Skinny sand turd smirks.

she’s paid to be there.
Vanilla Ice needs to eat.
hey Duck Dong, go swim.

— pfah

The face of a crab,
The body of a goddess.
Perfect for blind man.

— the alpha douche

close to the shoreline
is that a great white shark?
lord, hear my prayer.

— doucheronomy 68

Pursed lips, peroxide
Is that doggy style invite?
Call Godzilla quick

— Dion Didouchie

douche grease and hair bleach:
the greatest threat to oceans
since Exxon Valdez

— douche vader

'Bag Island

What once seemed a trend has exploded into full blown cultural ubiquity: Hottie/Douchey boat mating.

I’m not sure why the presence of lounging around with Miller Lites on a motorboat brings out the inner hot-chick justification to show off her wares to neighboring scrotewanks.

But what is it about the presence of boat that allows ocean turds to float onto dry land like shriveled whale poo?

Take Grinny McPud here. Rides on the short bus? Perhaps. Ignores the hott grinding into him in favor of a “Hey dude, we rock!” gesture to a compatriot choad? Definitely.

And so we write “balls” on his head. And lust for blonde ambition.

Knights in Scrotey Service

Man, and I thought The Creeper had a skeezy vile tongue from the pits of Satanic arena rock.

This is like a solid sandwich of nuclear scrotastic fusion cuisine. It should be on the menu at Koi. I’d look away but my irises just melted into puddles of gummi bear goo.

Douche Mecca

The Hard Rock Casino and Hotel.

Las Vegas, Nevada.

Douche Mecca.

Kissy Lips.

I’ll have the muscle choad and slutty hottie cocktail.

With a side order of mandana.

To go.

Six Feet Under 'bags

Angry ‘Bag has the Freddy Rodriguez in “Six Feet Under” scruff thing working He douches by day, cleans up corpses by night.

Bottom ‘Bag has the frosted tips and clueless expression of the lobotomized mental patients featured in Frederick Wiseman’s Titicut Follies. Because referencing 1960s cinema verite is what I’m all about, yo.

Healthy Brown Tipped Blonde’s smile is like the musical cadences of the stutter speech of 1990s David Mamet dialogue. I would overact Pacino style if it meant I could Garry her Glens with a hoo-ah.

And that’s just way too many film/tv references for one post. I feel post-modernly dirty. But not Portland Doctors on Craigslist dirty.

Hot Potato

Many aspiring ‘bag hunters ask me, “DB1, how does the Douche Virus travel between hottie and choad? In how many myriad ways does it transmit?”

After first complimenting them on the proper use of the word “myriad,” I explain that Grieco Viral transmission passes through the simultaneity of physical contact and a ‘bag gesture of some sort. For instance, the douche move pictured here.

Douche Licking is amplified in its potency when the choad in question simultaneously makes a ‘Bag Hand Gesture during transmission. And wears a silly shirt.

Observe the scrote-to-hott infection in action.

Or you can just stare at the Rainbow Pillows and drool like an Australian hyena pumped full of amphedidrine. Like I am. Because the Scrotal Sciences take a back-seat to bouncy rainbow pillows.

Just ask Jonas Salk. He was obsessed with boobies. That guy just wouldn’t stop.