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Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Wednesday Limerick
Pippy just wants peace for the earth,
Underdouche
It’s one thing to Run with the Goose. It’s another to show off your Batman Underoos in the process.
I feel your pain, scrunchy minxy Minnesotan-like blonde chimpmunk cutie.
Snag Underdouche’s Goose, and we’ll make cocktails by the fire as I rub your forearms with Vick’s vapo-rub and you tell me about how daddy didn’t love you enough.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008Pippy
Pip’s a classic example of when a ball of metro taint has his douche factor exponentially ratcheted up simply by being in the presence of Sultry Ski Bunny Perfection.
SSBP is all that melts snow in Oslo.
I would nervously ask her if she knew the time. After waiting awkwardly for three seconds while she ignored me, I would grab her straw and run away with it.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008HCwDB of the Week: The Turd Flush
One of the most balanced, and toughest, Weeklys we’ve had in awhile, created a brilliant and hilarious comments thread. Kudos to all the ‘bag hunters who raised their voices of outrage and mock to parse the hott/douche dialectic with rapier wit and raging id.
But in the end the power of Turd Flush’s vacant stare and blonde’s incredible side boob were too much to overcome. carl lazlo makes the case:
Turd Flush. I think it should be noted that I fear the ramifications of this breed of bag. He seems to be a Zombie-Bag or 28 bags later douche. That skin color can only be produced with douche sweat, eye-liner and prolonged excusrions into the tanning bed.
He is indeed the Zombie Turd. In upsetting the power of uberdouche that is The Dog, Turd Flush came up with a mighty win. mitch meats explains:
If Dog were with any other woman in the known universe, he would be a shoe-in. But, alas, it must be Turd Flush. His vacant gaze sees the nipple on my soul.
And colostomy bag explains how the toxic swirl of hott and turd commingled to win:
The Turd Flush, on the other hand, actually has some hotts, albeit slutty ones. He inspires the more conventional feelings of rage and disgust, but on much higher levels than any other of the more recent entries. In fact, if anyone ever truly deserved the status of “colostomy bag”, it would be Turd Flush.
Yes it would, CB.
Like Hagler-Leonard, this is a controversial win that will be discussed for many a month. The Dog is so beyond regular douche, a couple of intrepid readers discovered that if you google “cocaine” and click on images, you’ll find the Dog snorting away.
That’s gotta be one of the signs of the douchepocalypse right there. But in addition to Dog’s support, the Prince of Pud nearly pulled this thing out in a huge upset. g0dluvsugly explains:
without a doubt. prince of pud. he has the intent and he has the hott. the chin strap. the chest flex. the shocker. the fauxhawk. the disparate ‘bag-to-hot ratio. this pic lacks nothing.
But fret not, in the 2008 Douchies, methinks Dog, and possibly even the Prince, may merit Douchies for their unique contributions to ending our cultural worth while polluting girls along the way.
Alas, only one could emerge. And it was the Flushed Poo of Turd.
As all choads lead to rome puts it:
Turd Flush – because people with no talent in life have to try twice as hard to prove they are worthwhile. At the club, they may seem to be attractive, successful sex mongers, but all I see is a BA in English, 2 months of community college, and a beauty school drop out.
Well described, ACLTR. Give it up to the Turd Flush, and we’ll see him in the Monthly.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008Why There is No Hope for Mankind
From Enlightenment, to the Age of Reason, through Modernity and Postmodernity, ours is a world of many cultures and philosophies each exploring the universal questions.
What is life? What is love? Do shirtless mandana fools at clubs deserve to have their Red Bulls peed in?
I believe it was Descartes who first asked, Why does the douche-face annoy?
I still don’t have an answer for you, Descartes. So pass the Foie Gras and we’ll journey onward until dawn.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008'Bag / Not a 'Bag
Creepy eyebrows and the ridiculous facial hair are somewhat goofy, but otherwise there’s not enough to stamp “choad” on this guy’s forehead.
Maybe the necklace?
I dunno. I’m inclined to give a nottadouche pass, but figured I’d open it up to the floor.
Kimmy is all sorts of girl-next-door adorable sweetness, with a hidden body of sinny sinn sinn. Oh yes. I’d drink melted chocolate peep malteds of her distilled essence. I’d leap over tiger lilies dressed as a Northumbrian clown just for the chance to mildly annoy her great aunt by poking her with a Qtip.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008Douche of a Salesman
Willy: Yeeeeeee. Ya know what’s rad?
Blonde: What’s that?
Willy: Showing my swimming trunks, bra.
Blonde: I’m not a bra. I’m a girl.
Willy: Whatever, woman. Just check my undies. They’s fab.
Blonde: You smell like Axe Bodyspray and moldy wonder bread.
Biff: Yeeeee. That’s what Willy’s talkin’ bout.
Blonde: I, uh, gotta go now.
Willy: I’m Willy!! Willy, yo, man!!
And…. scene.
Tell me I didn’t just make a Willy Loman joke. I feel dirty.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008The Poo Fighters
What’s with the black fingernails on the Nordic vampiric Dave Grohl on the right? Surfers should never go goth. Get thee to a hackey-sack field, stat, boyo.
As to Two Tone Jenny, as horrifying as the black fingernail douche innovation is, the two-tone hair thing has that perfect balance between slutty and sexy to power a thousand Priuses.
I was almost inclined to give her screaming snapping alien mouth boyfriend a “temporary douchesanity” pass, but then I noticed the wristband, finger bling and, yup, black fingernail. No Pass For You.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008Caption This Pic
TINY PACKAGE DELETED
Kimmy and Kelly knew that Todd’s man-crush on The Gator went far, but not that far.
Monday, April 21, 2008Fun With Dorm Rooms
All dressed up and nowhere to go but some creepy-ass dorm room with a giant blue sheet over the window.
Ladies, short skirts over long legs will always earn my undying respect for who you are on the inside.
I just want to know the real you. What’s in here.
And if, in the meantime, I get to gnaw on your thigh like a hungry Burmese toddler digging for clams in the mudbanks, then so be it.