Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Eurobag

Ah, the Eurobag.

That greasy Austrian hair gelled scrote with the annoying boutique hotel lobby accent.

That awkward friend of a friend you’re forced to talk to at the party who smells vaguely like Tuscan butter cremes and leaves oil stains on the sofa.

That creepy club-going “tourist” who hasn’t had a job in two years and spends his nights trolling for American hotts who dig his accent and want to go back to his place and listen to selections of German techno band, Luftwaften, mashed with the Norwegian death metal stylings of Gorgoroth.

But what’s that?

Is Amelia smuggling something out under her dress? Are the Cossacks invading, looking for Prussians?

Punchable Douche-Face #29

I haven’t seen a douche-face that smugly mockable since my last trip to Uruguay.

Stupid Uruguay.

No More HSTD

High School Tongue Douche (HSTD) writes in:

—-
Hey man,

Sincerely,
— (HSTD)
——

Fair enough ‘baglings. Go in peace.

And put on a shirt.

Name That 'Bag

We’ve examined many categories of the ‘bag/hott. But here’s one that is tough to pinpoint on the douchestrological spectrum.

There’s a sense of Trustfundbaggery at work in this Vegas nightmare. But is he your standard Trustabaggian? Or perhaps greasy Eurobag? Or classic Waspy inheritance flaunting Hamptonsbag?

Alls I know is I would lead a large hiking expedition led by a team of Canadian Huskies in search of the softest spot of right Brunette’s posterior flesh mounds. When asked why I spent six months of my life exploring her hindquarters of fleshy perfection, I would simply respond, Because it was there.

Then, after a long pause, I would add, And because it’s a really nice butt.

But the reporter would leave that last part off.

Where's Federdouche?

Somewhere in between these two sultry Red Bull hotts, and their limo driver, Kal, I’ve carefully hidden none other than KFed-douche itself.

Look closely.

Can you smell the sweat, Axe, and minute 14:59 ticking away?

Speaking of KFed, isn’t he pretty much the Tom Arnold of Generation Douche?

The Smearkat

Alls I know is if sweet, wholesome Anya can escape from the greased up kissy lipped douchemulleted clutches of The Smearkat, she could feed an entire army of hungry babies.

I’m talking thirty, maybe forty hungry infant orphans desiring to suckle at her teat for nourishment.

And by forty hungry infant orphans, I mean me.

The HSTD

PIC DELETED

Ah yes, the High School Tongue Douche (HSTD). These ‘bagling denizens of Senior Skip Day are hard to spot, even by the experienced ‘bag hunter.

If you are hunting HSTD, simply camp out at Bobby’s weekend house party, position yourself near the Ubiquitous Red Cups, and wait.

Eventually a shirtless underwear sporting skinny-ass ‘bagling will come running into frame, stick his tongue out, and run off.

Be ready to snap a pic. Like the Hoverdouche, the HSTD disappears as quickly as they appear.

Poor little Jenny. She knows not what she licks.

Wednesday Limerick

Sven dreamed of being a 1980s Bad Guy,
Like one of those Aryan dudes in Kobra Kai,
Shouting “Sweep the leg, Johnny!”
Sven was born too late to party,
So instead he’ll rub scrote on Vicky’s thigh.

HCwDB of the Week: The Canker Twins

In a tight race between The Canker Sores and the absurdist photographic art that is Still Life with Coors Light, the Canks pulled it out to take the weekly. It’s gotta be the hair. As arkansas dave douchebaugh explains:

Canker twins and trim are like a bad scene from Mad Max Beyond the Thunderdome. You know, the scene in the club with the bottles of Goose, clouds of axe spray and everybody was wearing fake contacts and cliche tattoos. The crowd was chanting “Two Douches enter, Canker Twins win!”

Beyond Thunderdome references always win. Pre-Jesus Mel Gibson. Good times.

I noted earlier that the only thing holding this pic back is the high Bleeth Factor in both of the former hotts. They are past the point of return, and even if boobie is still suckle thigh worthy, we must factor in the douchebaguette negatively when rating the pic. But let it bleeth explains why it’s still okay to vote Canker:

let’s literally face the situation at hand, all women pictured are bleeths, just a matter of what degree. because mindy and cindi are tougher than ther dates proves the canker twins claim the cheap but cherished atlantic city bordwalk gold necklaces for their weekly win.

Well put, LiB. But it’s still a vortex of wrong.

In second place, despite being a work of art, it seems the hott packin’ heat was too much for people to overlook in Still Life with Coors Light. clementine of cappadoucha decides to go with it:

Gotta go with Still Life. It is a chilling glimpse into the douche reich that we must all guard against. I am really, Really, REALLY disturbed by the hott’s codpiece, and really, Really REALLY distracted by her cleavage.

So are we all, CoC. And don explains why the power of the hott helps to form the concept of “douche” in casting a vote for the Preppy ‘Bag:

my vote goes for preppy. his hotty is HOT-T-T. i couldn’t give a crap about those other hotties, but she’s hot. if i saw her with him i’d think, “he’s a f@#king douchebag”. but, those other guys, i’d just think, “what f@#king losers”

It’s important for all of us to remember that the zen contradiction between boobie and choad is where truth is found. But Punky Douchester explains the win, and by win I mean fail:

Has to be the Cankers. Upon further inspection, I have to say, yes, these chicks are uber-Bleethed but they actually look like they *could* have been hot not that long ago. Yes, they are too far gone and even sharing the same room with them would require a spraying of Bactine, but you can see the ghost of hottness past if you inspect closely.

And Bill Doucheterive:

Canker Twins wins. So much scrote in one image, I’m surprised the camera was able to contain it all. The other two, after sifting through the archives, no longer fill me with shock and/or awe.

The Cankers may be a stronger entry in the Monthly than we think. Sure they’re going against newly minted Hall of Scrote winner Bra!!, but we’ve seen HoS members lose a Monthly before.

Anything can happen on Monday. And by anything, I mean simplex-C.

Give credit to the Canker Twins’ shaved heads and their Bleethed out hotts. This pic deserves recognition for all that is pooey.

Air Jordy

I’m almost inclined to give Jordy a nottadouche pass. But the tucked in jeans with hightops? Is that really necessary?

As to pale sultry curly brunette, Sara Hottowitz, I would take her for a ritual holy bath using only Sabbath candles, my own drool, a small sponge and a Romanian masseuse named Gastu to assist with the toweling.

By now, some of you may have noticed that Bra!! has made it into the hallowed Hall of Scrote. No need for a vote, any douche innovating a dual bicep tatt move, appearing shirtless in six different locations while rubbing his crotch into sorority hotts and enjoying a plethora of cola beverages, deserves honoring. And by honoring, I mean broheiming, bra.

But will he win the Monthly?

Ah. To answer that, will find out on Monday.