Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Gauntlet

anonymous posts in yesterday’s Phelps thread:

—-
Db1,

The quality of d’bag pics has been low lately. I think the book tour distracted you. I think a lot of the non posted pics I have sent you in the past month have been better than posted ones. Keep the edge sharp and cleen my friend. Take another hit off of the wall and forget about the $$$$….
—-

I accept your challenge today, sir.

I start you with this. It will get worse.

Is Michael Phelps a Douche?

The honorable folks over at Best Week Ever have decided to pay uncredited, uhm, “homage,” to the site with this post wondering if Michael Phelps is douche. “Best Rip Ever” is more like it. Because I’m clever like that.

But the question they ask is valid. Is Phelps douche?

Although the pic here suggests scrote, the larger body of evidence is muddled. Phelps has yet to make the “scene” with hott in tow, like various other celebs (::cough cough:: Mayerbag :: cough::).

But, still. Hat tilts. Hand gestures. Douche hair (when grown).

I gotta rule ‘bag. A minor stage-2 ‘bag. But ‘bag. The golds don’t excuse the douche. Hence Bruce Jenner. And Spitz was definitely a 70s retro ‘stachebag.

Sorry Phelps. Congrats on all the records and stuff, but you’re still going up on the HCwDB wall.

The Rime of the Scrotey Mariner

It is a scrotey Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
‘By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp’st thou me ?

He holds him with his douche-face eye (and kissy lips)–
The HCwDB-Guest stood true,
And listens like a three years’ child :
The Mariner smelled like douche-poo.

(with apologies to Coleridge)

Molly's Ex 'Bag Tag

Molly tags the “But We’re Still Friends” ‘Bag:

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So last year I worked as a TA at my school. One day coming back from class I ran into my boy (on the right) and his best friend (on the left). They were on their way to the gym and well I think this is a classic douchebaggery picture.

– Molly
—-

Ah, the Froshbag. The Freshturd. The dude with the pulled up socks and pink short shorts.

But Molly, you can play guitar in my Robert Palmer tribute band any day of the week.

The Player

Statler: He’s a player.

Waldorf: How do you know?

Stalter: It says so on his shirt!

Waldorf: It says something else on the inside of his shirt.

Statler: What’s that?

Waldorf: That he’s a smelly hunk of testicular douche-poo!!

Statler and Waldorf: Ahahahahaha!!

Lil’ Head: Can I pipe in here?

Statler and Waldorf: Of course, Lil’ Head.

Lil’ Head: I would parasail through the Northern Lights at dawn over the snow capped Fjords just for the chance to have chill arctic winds from frosty icicles across my Lil’ Head made from 1/100th a percent exhumed sweat cast off from her underarms by her hairdryer in a hotel in Palm Springs.

Statler and Waldorf: Well said, Lil’ Head. Well said.

HCwDB of the Week: The Hourglass and the Beachbag

For one of the most evenly matched Weeklies in awhile, the votes were tight. Hourglass tight.

But the sheer power of uberhottness carried a pedestrian run-of-the-mill douchescrote to a win in the Weekly.

Chac Monster at Ace Hardware explains:

Hourglass wins. Shes the smokingest Hott girl Ive seen on this site in a while, and because of that I hate the oily fungus-goober next to her all the more.

That is the key nexus of hottie/douchey enlightenment. Sometimes it’s the uberscrote. Sometimes it’s boobies you’d slap your grandmother for. crocodile douchedee agrees:

Hourglass & the Beachbag FTW her carmelized body of perfection carries his deflated pec pouch and hair plugs to victory

Well said, C.D. And robert waxes poetic on the sheer force of nature that is the Hourglass’s body:

Hourglass, without a doubt.

Maybe they’re just friends.

Maybe they are. But maybe they’re not. And therein lies the pain. Heather continues:

I gotta give it to the hourglass and her be-spiked tumor.

She is everything that pure in the world of masturbatory delights and he is everything I wish to run over with my car.

And Lyndon Ladouche explains the power found between Hourglass and Beachscrote:

The other guys are far douchier, but those curves are an earthly shadow of the Islamic paradise. The fact that this average nothing is with her infuriates me more than the real douchebags who at least put on a show to hypnotze the hotts. Beachbag’s got nothing, and yet he’s still banging hourglass.

Its cosmically unfair and that’s ultimately what this site is about.

Indeed it is, L.D.

But the O-Prune came this close on the sheer power of douchal wrongness. Dunkterdouche zeroes in:

O-Prune takes the douche ball and run for a touchdown. Jesus tapdancing Christ.

I submit: White Belt, Not the ab point, but close enough with the Ab Encore (curtains open), bling, douche lips and sunglasses inside at night. And i kinda like pre-heroin Countney Love hot on the right who looks like she would do very dirty things to you. Not to mention quiet dominatrix Ukrainian spy hot on the left This guys might have to be in the monthly.

And Coco brings the female perspective and spins for DJ Scroteboy:

I really think you just have to add up the points here. The tilted hat, mandana, chin-up douche pose and that ridiculous tatt put scroteboy slim way over the top.

Scroteboy Slim definitely deserves a 2008 Douchie nomination for that tattoo, and the O-Prune for Orange. But, in this Weekly, the perfect form of Hourglass femininity at the beach was enough, next to an average choad, to create a douchal vortex. Champagne Douchernova explains why:

The others are truly more douchiferous than he, but his HOTT is a supernova of spooge extracting perfection. I would amputate my prostate, just to sniff the spot the truck that delivered her bikini parked in.

And wonkydonkydotnet fully loses his mind trying to comprehend this pic’s wrongness:

I have it on good authority from Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson & the forensic auto metallurgists, that Hourglass’s Groin has in-fact caused Quasar Mrk421 to go Supernova, vaporizing everything within 4 light years of it, and her hips simultaneously have rent asunder Steve McQueen’s Bullitt Mustang at the molecular level from 3,000 miles away, like some Class 5 mutant having an orgasm.

Well said, WDDN.

Make room for the Hourglass and the Beachbag. Those hips and curves might just carry this Standard Issue Jerzbag to a win in the Monthly. They’re that tasty.

Reader Mail: "Girlicious"

Jo writes in with a question about female douchitude:

—-
DB1,

— Jo
PS. here’s another description of the evening
—-

The question of the Douchadox is a profound one, and I’m often queried about the responsibility of the hott to quell the spread of douche virus.

The truth is I do not forgive the hott in all cases, nor do I see her as purely “innocent.” I just want to lick her kneecaps like a cracked up ferret. This dual contradictory impulse — to both ridicule the douchebaguette and to lick her kneecaps — is called the douchadox (The “douchadox” is explained in greater detail in the book).

The Douchadox limits and challenges the objectivity of even the most experienced ‘bag hunter. As such, as a female ‘bag hunter, you are vitally important to continue to raise this objection to my biased ‘bag hunting ways.

The responsibility of the hott not to become douchebaguette is actually the key to unraveling douchal hierarchy. Once the hott rejects the male attempts to douche it up in skeezal style, the entire viral replication pattern breaks down, and both douche and hott gradually become free.

Therefore bands like Girliscious are even more responsible for the spread of Douche Virus than tools like The Bagstreet Boys.

Because of my own struggles with the Douchadox, I rely on the female ‘bag hunters in our community to tag stage-4 Bleeths like Girlicious. Because, as with any type of kryptonite, I can only journey so close as ‘bag hunter before I break down and build sand castles out of used goiter medicine in the Australian outback just for the chance to gnaw on their grandmother’s sister’s best friend’s used stockings.

Caption This Pic

When King Triton sent Princess Ariel on a mission to find crabs, this wasn’t what King Triton had in mind.

Termigator: Salvation

We’ve explored many disparate branches of the hottie/douchey tree.

But there’s nothing quite like Hall of Scrote legend The Gator embracing a cutie to personify this site’s mission statement.

The Gator is not simply uberchoad. The Gator is not simply uberwank.

The Gator is uberchoadwank.

Meanwhile, The Gator needs to get his hands on one of these babies, the latest in douchal accessory.

And, on an unrelated note, a reader at the University of Wisconsin-Superior observes that the HCwDB Philosophy can be located somewhere between Steve Jobs and black comedians. Which has a distinct sort of logic.

'Bag Hunter Training Quiz

There are twelve distinct signs of douchescrotery visible within this picture of Vegas Turd/Hott.

How many can you find?