Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Beach Blanket Booger

PIC DELETED

Why do I get the creepy feeling that if you zoomed in on that mess of white twine by Beach Blanket Booger’s crotch area, it would end up forming a second image like the people on the back of the moth who also form a skull on the Silence of the Lambs movie poster?

I’m too scared to actually look. Like the twine is actually The Gator and Joey Porsche making synchronized Shockers or something.

Beach Bunny Hott is 110 pounds of soft, chewy cookie-dough girl next door goodness. A toast, people. A toast, to her boobies.

The Yak

Please don’t vomit your douche infested lunch from Arby’s on the perfect bouncy boobie boobs, Yakster.

It’s bad enough you’re spiking up what’s left of your hair and are struggling to grow a chin strap.

She is delightful, and your presence is, how you say, unwarranted betwixt her throw pillows.

Yet you appear to have cornered her in a padded cel at Miskatonic University. Please do not inject her with green glowing fluid. And by green glowing fluid, I mean your salivic taint.

He Just Bangs Bitches and Waxes Poetic

More poetic words of genius from the Dylan Thomas of Douche, the Scatman of Scrote, the Wordsworth of Wordup, He Just Bangs Bitches and Drinks:

—-
I’m gonna break it down real simple for you to understand…my whole life been poor, so I made a promise to myself about becoming rich, so I’m on a basically five year rollercoaster of ups and downs to make that dough, now I’m there…. I cracked the code to makin lots of cash…so my future is all set… cars, mansions, and of course them sexy ladies… so now you can look at it from 2 perspectives….u can think about it as “wow this kids stupid” or “wow this kid is gonna become something”. Either way it dont bother me… negative and simple minded people dwell in the past… I was born to lose built to win…so I got a dont give a f@#k mentality to the haters…I dont diss em …I dismiss them… haters will always hate…so to the life ima have, the cars, the clothes, and the sexy ladies who will enter my life…cheers…
—-

He dont diss. He dismiss.

HCwDB of the Week

While there were a few of the stronger Vegas uberdouche from last week to pick from, this week’s Weekly is for the everyman. The average douched up schlub. The anonymous working class scrote, doing their small part to contribute to a larger world. And by world, I mean ass pimple.

So while your humble narrator in all things ankle-chain/Affliction, The DB1, nurses a mild hangover due to excess sugar high during drinking last night(stupid Twinkies), here are your finalists:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Ned’s Fantasy Camp

We all gotta give it up to Ned.

It’s not every day that, when the rest of the Dunder Mifflin office is worried about their March Madness picks or their fantasy baseball draft, Ned is taking his two week vaca to douche it up Hard Rock Style.

You go with your awkard henna tatt, your bizarre freedom trail, and your saggy flaccid nipples that look vaguely like the evil creatures from The Dark Crystal, Ned. It’s impressive. And by impressive, I mean not impressive.

Heck, ya got two sexy, slutty Vegas cocktail waitresses. So I guess your fantasy camp beats the one where you get to play slow pitch softball with Marty Barrett.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Nighthawk aka Balboabag

Sly Spittoon isn’t one of the harsher dbags we’ve featured in recent weeks. But the chin pubes + chest reveal are enough for him to qualify as an everybag.

And for the Asian fetishists in our midst (you know who you are), tasty Sue Kim is a Dim Sum of delight.

Seriously. Her legs can cure rickets.

As to Cobrettibag, do not underestimate the power of the possessional ass pat for its douchey power. For there’s nothing more annoying than Stallonebags in Don Johnson attire patting down the ass of their date while giving you a look that says, “I may sell used cars, but she’s not smart enough to know she can do better.”

Indeed she isn’t, Nighthawk.

Indeed indeed.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: Turtleman

At first I wasn’t sure if Sweet Polly Stateschool would be enough to carry Turtleman to a finals appearance.

But I was pleased to see Polly got the love she deserved, even if her posture is a bit awkward.

As to the superhero myth and legend that is Turtleman, what more can be added?

He fights crime.

And by crime, I mean bling.

And by bling, I mean pop.

And by pop, I mean yellow patch in hair.

Yellow patch in hair.

Is that really necessary, Turtleman?

Really?

Yes. I suppose it is.

So them’s your finalists. Three enter, only one can transcend. Which one? That, my friends and fellow ‘bag hunters, is up to you.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

Oldbag Reconsidered

Then again, maybe all Old ‘Bags don’t cross over into hero status when douching it up in their senior years.

Some just keep on ‘baggin’ in full on leathery, creepy orange wrongness.

Retro Douche: Prime Time

Last week’s spotlight on the 80s monstrosity that was The Boz resulted in a number of calls to highlight that other douche carrying scrote of the football field, Brothabag Prime Time Neon Deon Sanders.

And while Neon, like The Boz, has a certain inept charm that undercuts any truly noxious douchebaggery, there is no denying that this video, Must be the Money drips of early 1990s bling, hair gel and overall greasy wrongness.

But, on the bright side, at least Deon will never have to worry about a career singing, rapping or anything outside of sounding like a strangled seal.

Make your picks for the upcoming season, Neon. You just earned a place in our Hallowed Hall of Retro Douche.

Old Dogg

We’ll never know exactly what that point in a man’s life is when he goes from doggy ‘baggin’ douche to Old Dogg folk legend. That point of crossing, when greased up taint turns into myth, legend and saggy assed scrote champion.

Alls I know is Old Dogg is my new hero.

Moon Under Miami

At least I think that shiny orb floating at the base of the celestial heavens is a moon.

It’s glowing, spiky, and has a face in it.

Overly coiffed fembots may be a bit scary, but it’s Friday, so I’m going with it.

Because I’m sipping my Train, and getting over my flu, and contemplating that touch of bite in the spring desert air in sunny, smoggy, foggy Los Angeles.

The hipsters are flooding the Coffee Beans, rushing to stand still and contemplate their next career move, while the starlets serve plates of avocado salads and Pellegrino on Sunset Boulevard.

The spirit of Sheryl Crow gets her early morning beer buzz on, as the last vestiges of hair metal glam-douche wannabees saunter through the crackling dry Hollywood afternoon. Long hairs outside the Guitar Center. Those last few off the bus, hoping to grab the rockstar fame that was never really there in the first place. Images of Axl Rose sold them a fantasy, and who am I to tell them otherwise?

There’s a premiere tonight, somewhere I’m sure, and fighting 19 year olds will pose with their Starbucks by their SUVs hoping to get onto TMZ, and wonder if their leaked topless photos will make a splash on Perez Hilton.

Danny DeVito’s Hush Hush magazine prints the scoop, as the latest meatgrinders for the digital pixelated grill get spat out like so many bars of soap at the assembly line.

Red Bulls fuel the night, and somewhere a hott with perfect boobs is ordering an apple sour martini, and glancing nervously around the room. The douchebags hover, and she looks nervous.

A spiky haired choad who smells like Axe Bodyspray walks up and says, “Yo.”

“Yos” everywhere, popping up like iphone chat bubbles across the cityscape as the sunlight fades.

It’s another night in the Naked Networked City. Another night up in the Canyon. Swimming pools shimmer. And I get a little drunker.

Lest I ramble any further, I tip my cup of ‘Train to all those who soldier onward and propel this lurching country forward on the backs of cultural spectacle and media chaos. It gets us through the day. And glossy photos never get cavities.

Turtleman

Turtleman was one of the secondary and less famous superheroes that came out during Marvel Comics’ brief late 1990s “Popped Collar Ass Superhero” period.

It was a short lived period in comics history. Other superheroes, like Chicken Wing Man and The Fizzle didn’t catch on with readers, and were quickly canceled.

But Turtleman found a few fans. Especially when he saved intrepid newspaper reporter, Sweet Polly Stateschool, from his arch enemy, Doctor Good Taste.

In fact Issue #17, Turtleman Meets the Pant Stains can be found on Ebay for around $12, plus shipping and handling.

You go, Turtleman. Keep fighting crime, one collar pop at a time.

Hair Supply

Im lying alone with my hair shaped like a phone
Thinking of you till it hurts
I know you gel too but what else can we do
Tormented and torn apart

(chorus)
Im all out of gel, Im so lost without spikes
I know you were right, believing for so long
Im all out of gel, what am I without hair
I cant be too late to say I was so damn douchey…