Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

What's grosser than gross?

This is.

Dipping one more time into the endless creative referencing well that is Lebowski, sometimes you eat the ‘bag, and sometimes the ‘bag eats you.

Fingers McCool

Ripped Jeans with patches. Post-Wham George Michael Cool since 1988.

Eastern Euro Cutie, your clothes confuse, but your boobies reassure. I would raise my checkered flag and wave you in.

Wednesday Limerick

PIC DELETED

A tatt-douche who calls himself “Reese’s Pieces,”
Tried to rip off Eminem’s Thesis,
He busted a move,
On hotties to prove,
That he wasn’t a poo flinging rhesus.

HCwDB of the Week: The Easy-Bake

This week’s voting was no contest, it was a slam dunk for this classic pic of club spew wrongness.

The Bakers have everything. A gorgeous sexy mamita so polluted by Chin Lip Rat Fungus Smug Smirking Asswad With Too Many Tatts (CLRFSSAWTMT) douche that she may never stop saying “yo” again.

Kid Dynamite III makes the case:

I think this one’s gonna be a landslide. Mr. Chin Lip is way too short with a goat hair ‘stash to be that smug. Poor P10 Hottie. This picture will be his MySpace profile picture for the rest of the year if not longer. I’ve been staring at the pic for too long and now my head hurts thinking about how this happened.

Good call on the Myspace Calling Card, Kid D. No doubt CLRFSSAWTMT will proudly feature those huggable hips as proof of his sexual viability.

clementine of cappadoucha agrees, going Tolkein Medieval:

Just as Saruman bred the Urukhai in vats of festering rot, so too was the Easy-Bake Oven created. Some practitioner of foul arts spliced together The Leprechaun and Will Durst, stuffed him into a lame t-shirt, stuck Tumbellina’s merkin on his chin and then set him free in the larger world. Despite his deformities, or perhaps because of them he manages to attract pseudo-hip-goth hotts to his side in a nauseating display of post-apocalyptic horror.

Beautiful smackdown, CoC. In fact, a number of ‘bag hunters took to verbally slicing the Bakers with Hattori Hanzo sharpness.

mitch meats writes: For my money, the most gag/stroke-worthy is Easy Bake. He needs to be dragged behind a Buick through a cactus patch.

douchey-douchey-do writes: Easy Bake: such a confluence of inky doucheocity and Bleethed-out hott sets a new bar for aspiring Fred Durst wannabes.

Sir Douche-a-Lot The Third writes: But, oh, Bag #2, you restore my faith in the universe. And by faith in the universe, I of course mean hatred for all things organic. Your plethora of pastel tats makes me yearn for your drawing and quartering. But, OH, your Bleethe. That young mound of lovehappy makes me want to thank my dad for not monofrolicking that cool February night and instead defiling my mother.

Nicely done, people. Beautiful.

However, The Douche Hoagie had takers for the sandwich of wrong. ‘bagavad gita makes the lunch meat:

Chinstrap-to-chinpube-to-liprivet on the right completes the toasted hoagie of choad. Scrotehawk: check. Painted nails: check. Dogtag bling: check. Backpack with Grey Goose and V8 Splash: check. Then I read the T-shirt–Cock Star Army. One visit to the website (www.cockstararmy.com) showed me all I needed to see. He is the complete douche, capable of vectoring Bleeth in all directions. Hott obviously is deeply infected.

Excellent catch on the “Cockstar Army” t-shirt, B.G. A new trend that will need watching.

And Oucheday Agbay makes a strong case for Wonderbag’s purity of hott:

Leaning toward Wonderbag, if only because the other two HCs are so far gone and out in Doucheland beyond the point of no return. Whereas Wonderbag’s HC hasn’t yet fully fallen into the abyss (no lower-back tramp stamp tat, no hand gestures, etc). She’s merely corruption-in-progress instead having already been corrupted, and that makes the pic even more frustrating to witness.

Very well put O.A. But female reader oh so bella sums it up:

I’m giving it to the Easy-Bake Oven. His chick has a nice body..and he makes my uterus want to implode upon itself.

Imploding uteruses with the power of douchitude. It doesn’t get any better, and by better I mean wronger, than that.

Not sure they’ll make it to the Monthly until after the 2007 Douchies in a few weeks, but raise up the Easy-Bake hott/choad. They are your Weekly winners.

Original 'Bagsta

Sure we can span the world for all manifestations of douche consciousness.

But sometimes it’s nice, and by nice I mean turd, to kick back with the HCwDB classics.

Those garish criminal couplings of polluted hott and greasy tool. Those head-assploding servings of Original ‘Bagsta.

They remind us what we fight for. A brave new world where Eurasia, Eastasia and Oceania all agree that douchebags suck, and ‘Bag Brother is no more.

Eurobaggery

A reader snapped this pic in the Bulgarian city of Plovdiv.

I don’t know whether to be frightened of the vampiric douchey overtones, or thrilled to see the latest James Bond villain henchman ready to throw down with evil menace.

Speaking of Bond, I’ve always thought that the greatest Bond casting choice would have been Elliott Gould circa 1973’s Altman noir classic, The Long Goodbye.

A different direction for Bond?

Perhaps.

But there was no one more badass in the history of cinema than young Elliott Gould in that movie. He even took on a naked Schwartzenegger with sardonic wiseassery, fer chrissakes.

Don’t get me wrong. Daniel Craig is an improvement over the male model douchery of Brosnan. But Gould would’ve beaten them all.

The Army-Navy Surplus Tool

Hey Frank, how’s it goin’?… Love the new forehead growth… well, yeah, I suppose it does look like a tumor. But it looks good on you. As does that chest shave. Very nicely done.

Thanks, Frank. See you next week.

Joe

I can’t get too worked up about everyday average Joe here. Sure he’s got all the signs of uber-douche, from the low cut shirt, to the ancient Sanskrit prayer on his left shoulder. The combo mandana + hip-hop rosary + sideways peace sign.

Even the rare tri-chin-pubes formation.

But something tells me his name is Joe, he works at CostCo, and he’s very helpful if you need to find a 1265 oz. bottle of dishwashing detergent.

And really. How can I diss on Joe at CostCo?

The hott, however, revs my motor like a test drive Vespa.

Top Gum

Two-tone aviator glasses and the spiky Mt. Rushmore hair on a douche-face are like that mutant gum stuck to the bottom of your 10th grade math class desk.

I’d fear touching his gooey substance while learning about trigonometry.

She is corn-fed Indianapolis perky cute.

That midwestern two drink minimum hott. Not too hot that you can’t take her out for fear of a douche-scrum attacking while you’re ordering a cocktail, but still cute enough to cash in them boobie chips like you won the California gold rush.

Douchemian Rhapsody

Is this two skate choads,
Is hott my fantasy,
caught in a ‘bling slide,
no escape from douchosity.

He’s just a scrote boy,
He needs no bodyspray,
cuz it’s cheesy face, cheesy clothes,
Two toady chumps with dumbass poses,
Any way the club goes, doesn’t really matter… to her… to her…

(I’d keep going to the “Scadamouche” part but small boobied blondie has radioed my googoo.)