Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

'Bag / Not a 'Bag

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Unbuttoned cheesy silk shirt, no doubt, but is it enough to qualify for douche status?

I put it to you.

‘Bag? Not a ‘bag?

Not a ‘bag. ‘Bag-like yes. Maybe some kind of psuedo-quasi-‘bag. — massengill

Oh Come On, Already!!! Mark o’ the Bag on Forehead? Check Cactus Dome? Check Unbuttoned Shirt? Check MAJOR Douche Face? Check Providing Alcohol and Cigarettes to Minors? Check Statutory Rape in Progress? Check F@#ING ‘BAG. — scroter the unstoppable douche machine

Logan's Friend

Looks like Logan made it out of Sanctuary, and over to the bathroom area. Where he located Logan 6, and a Yellow Hott.

Nice work, Logans. Excellent horns gestures and douche-faces. 

The Flea Cone

You know prom night is off the hook when it’s time to start busting the “flea cone.”

You get down with your bad self, Kevin!!

Quick, someone check if the roof is on fire.

Simone and the Geyser

Oh sweet Simone, you are the hott from my freshman year philosophy class mixed with a sexy dash of Vivica A. Fox in Independence Day. You would tempt a trumpet playing Denzel by wearing a bright red dress. You are delightful.

And yet you cohabitate with a greasy ball of Vegas motorcycle oil, beaded up and ready for action. A dude whose forehead veins are about to explode with geyser-like oil while an overacting Daniel Day Lewis enunciates loudly.

Leave him Simone. You will not miss his beads. I promise.

Waterman

One of the lesser known superheroes in the Halls of Justice was Waterman.

He didn’t have any actual superpowers. He pretty much just hung out with Batman during breaks and brought him bottles of water. Sort of the leader of Batman’s entourage.

The other superheroes used to make fun of Waterman. But he never gave up.

At night Waterman would go out dressed up as a douche and try to use his Superhero connections to get a table at Les Deux.

It didn’t work.

Bezerker

It’s hard to get too worked up over another mandana/tatt generic. Even if his shirt does spell out the Hebrew word for “Gefilte Fish.”

I posted this pic because the little leopard froggie model type with the skinny arm honks my hooter. She fries my petunas. She somethings my bad metaphor.

Blondie’s not bad in that cheerleader-gone-bad sort of way. But Leopard Froggie is delicious.

HCwDB of the Week (revised): The Boobermensch

Well it seems our robotic douche Mr. Rebokto couldn’t handle the pressure of winning the Weekly, as expressed so eloquently in the following email:

Hey my name is Andrew (Mr. Rebokto). Can you take my picture off of your stupid website.

Indeed I can, Android Hair. And so we must pass the crown to the first runnerup, The Boobermensch.

Which is really like addition by subtraction. Sure we’ve gone from three boobs down to two. But at least one is succulent. The other has facial pubes.

The Pincushion

If Pinhead from the Hellraiser franchise can become a sex symbol in Japan, then surely The Pincushion can become a sleep aid in Paraguay.

I have no idea what that means.

I need more coffee.

And by coffee I mean large, wholesome, plump and juicy watermellon jolly rancher baby pump boobie boobs.

Wednesday Limerick

Goldilocks went riding through the club,
Where she ran into a douched out wolf-like schlub,
“Do you like my hat?” he asked.
“It drains spaghetti.” she tasked.
And then erased his chin strip with a nub.

HCwDB of the Week: Mr. Rebokto

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A tight vote heavy on the boobies, but Mr. Rebokto’s android douchebaggery pulled ahead and took the crown in this week’s Weekly.

Sure the Paid To Post factor is high with this one. And by high, I mean hair spike.

But there’s no getting around that smug Rebokto expression, that hair from the river styx, and boobies.

Bagness of God makes the case:

I’m going to vote for Mr. Rebotko. For starters, those Elvis-wannabe sunglasses are making me leak oily discharge…or was that from eating an entire bag of Wow! chips? Damn you, Olestra!!

But more importantly, if you are that close to boobtopia and are too worried about looking like a hard-ass to smile, you deserve a hot bacon-grease enema followed by a full-body rubdown with a belt sander.

Well put, B of G. Stuporfly agrees, bringing the NKOTB references:

In honor of the rumored New Kids on the Block reuinon, my vote goes to Mr. Rebokto. It’s like a pair of 1989 North Jersey hotties fed pictures of all five members of NKOTB into a computer, ‘Weird Science’-style and came up with this douche composite.

Hangin’ tough, indeed!

Exactly, S.F. The NKOTB template was part of the 1989/1990 Grieco axis that introduced modern douchebaggery to the masses. But more about that in my book.

But the perfect singularity of The Boobermensch and her hipster toad also found support. RickyIglesiasBanderas makes the case:

So, after self-divisive internal debate, I have to go with #2. He looks like Antonio Banderas’ and Enrique Iglesias’ love-child.

That Latin-style uber-douche that dances to “I Can Be Your Hero Baby” and “Livin’ La Vida Loca” with some salsa-flamenco-tango moves in a bar in Boston… And his girl looks like she just got off the Carnivale bus from Rio. These two definitely light up the dance floor at your local sports bar every time Santana comes on during a commercial break. They look like Montezuma’s Revenge to me…

Fantastic smackdown, love child. We all know those couples, and they make me itch like crotch rash. Not that I’ve ever had crotch rash. Except that one time. With Rebokto’s mom.

eradicatoor keys in on the healthy mamms when casting in with Frosted Flake:

I’ve got to go with F Flake’s hott. She is first year high school guidance counselor hot. She’s helping me choose between Spanish 100, and Home-ec. I’m busy fiddling with my pen, and making brief eye-contact to throw her off my scent of boob staring.

Mmm. First Year Guidance Counselor Hott. I remember them well. Baron Von Goolo agrees:

While Mr. Rebokto’s arm candy is tire fire hot and Der Booberfrau is, well, nekkid, I’m voting for Frosted Flake and Angelina Alba. The way her breasteses are straining against that shirt like two puppies in a pet shop window just melts my coal black heart. Because like those puppies, if I brought them home my fair Baroness would beat me like a muleskin drum.

Yes but who wouldn’t risk a beating for those puppies? Alas, it is Rekotko’s week to shine his forehead. Masengill makes the case for Rebokto to take the douche cyborg crown:

Rebokto is douche v2.0. He is a desert guido cyborg with requisite douche cacti sprouting from his greasy fivehead. The playmate in training is sprouting the two most perfect of perfects and she is looking right at me

And Dunkterdouche agrees, bringing my favorite reference, the Lane Meyers:

There is no contest. None of the contenders make me want to smack them with an aquatic life form more than Mr Rebokto. Even if the girl is PTP, he has that look on his face that invites my fist like Lane Meyers invites chinese immigrants to race him.

Rebokto it is, but the PTP debate will carry on. But for now, lets raise this chest fruit and cyborg wrongness to the rafters and book them a ticket in the Monthly.