Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Friday Haiku

Pierced tool annoys, while
Three Parisian basement hotts,
Check tongues for choad germs

freddy will never
be the same after his ex
stapled tongue to lip

— johnny scrotten

a rose is a rose,
but it could be a penis
in this photograph.

— pfah

A Clockwork Douchebag
an isolated Yazik
pleased fuzzy Yarbels

— the ‘bag apple

sideways peace sign, brah
electric douche cap stylin’!
hotts fellate flower

— ‘bag lanta

HCwDB Changes Lives

Lea writes in:

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p.s: i would send a pic to be a candidate as your future ex wife but: 🙁 my fiancee is a loyal reader and he wouldn’t appreciate either the story or pics!
—-

Oh Lea, my Lea, it’s my pleasure to mock and expose the douchescrotery of your ex.

I like to think of myself as a benevolent humanitarian. Doing my part for the larger good, all while mocking the scrote and lusting after the boobie hotts. It’s like a win/win for all. All except for John Mayer. That guy sucks.

Ross at 40

PIC DELETED

Boy, life hasn’t been kind to David Schwimmer since Friends went off the air. Then again, judging by the quality of the high class hott, maybe it has.

And, in a related story following his continuing journey to the douche-side, uberscrotal faux-emo John Mayerbag has now apparently gotten sleeve tatts. Someone needs to shove the Staff of Ra six kadems up Mayerbag’s guitar hero exhaust pipe.

White Horse

This looks like one of those mythical 1980s Bret Easton Ellis scripted coke parties on the upper west side.

Some “live fast, die young” parable about Stockbroker Teddy (played by Robert Downey Jr.) out of control in the clubs, bringing in a bunch of Manhattan hotts to tantalize an Arabian billionaire who just arrived in New York to “finance movies.”

Speaking of 80s drug culture, the greatest cult song of the 1980s, by far, was Laid Back’s White Horse. That genius was about fifteen years ahead of it’s time.

No Laid Back, no Fatboy Slim.

The Slutt/Hott Duality

It’s important to note that blondie here is demonstrating what noted German philosopher Jurgen Habermas describes as the “slutt/hott duality.”

The S/H Duality, emerging in the late 1980s within post-Derridean deconstruction, simply states that one can simultaneously be repelled by the trashiness while also desiring to grab onto and possess the boobie.

It is a form of double consciousness rooted in gender performance, the sex drive and witnessing really fantastic ta-tas.

She is desirable, yet the pink pokey bra thing is all that is bar trashy. This state of double-think emerges from fragmentation, as culture and subculture collide around the boobie.

He, of course, remains indisputably and singularly poo. A pure ubermensch of poo.

Fan Mail

Anonymous writes in:

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I think your a f@#king idiot. If we saw you in a pic with some chicks you’d probably find yourself on your own site. who the f@#k are you to hide behind a laptop and some pics you got from some haterz? I need to create a site called haterzthatdrinkfromdouchebags.com ……………. did you not get enough attention in highschool? did all the other guys get all the cute boys you liked? oops. i mean girls. its so funny what people try to make a living off of. now we have f@#king idiots like you talking s@#t about other guys because you have no talent and nothing better to do. You f@#kn clown. hope your site and CPU crash.

truly yours,
—–

Mom? Is that you?

Raising Hairizona

Son, you got a ferret on your head.

Criss Angel is Poo

Every month Criss Angel ratchets up the douche factor like a spectral Harry Houdini by way of Rico Suave’s Gerardo. In perhaps his most amazing illusion of all, yesterday he made our merits as a society disappear.

Poof!

Gone in a cloud of Axe Bodyspray. Where’s Sigfried and Roy’s white tiger when you need it?

Yet Crissbag continues to pull the highest quality Vegas hooch.

I got a trick, Criss.

Wave the red scarf over the bottle. Wuula wuula wuula. Now look inside.

It’s your mom.

Amy's 'Bag Tag

Reader Amy writes in:

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Heyyyy DB1….I saw these doucheBAGS from across the sidewalk and I just could not resist the urging temptation to get a picture with him AND lumber jack douche.

-Amy (on the right)
—-

It’s not bad for your first capture, Amy, but tagging the stage 1 douche is easier than the higher up game (stages 3 and 4). Note no hand gestures and only minimal shirt douchage. Forehead grease is toxic, though. However you may have to throw these two back. State Douching Licenses dictate at least a stage-2 level for true ‘bag tagging.

Orange Crush

There’s a backstory here involving six bottles of peroxide, a bank heist gone wrong, and a midget named Pepe who can burp the Star Spangled Banner.

Later, Brazilian Clowns will drive up in a Mini with cotton candy for all, while the Princess of Denmark cries over the banishment of her crippled Aztec llama “Steve,” to the Island of Long.

That’s about as much sense as I can make of this travesty of a mockery of a sham of a travesty.