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Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Ask DB1: "The Rockstar Leniency Rule"
A friend of mine on FB commented on somebody’s photo, and I stumbled on this while browsing the rest of the album. This guy is apparently in a “crunk” rock band. Not sure what that means, but I immediately think of garbage like Buckcherry. Either way, he deserves to be on your site, rock star or not.
And actually, I disagree with your tendency to go lightly on rock and celebri-douches. They deserve as much (if not many times more) bashing as the lesser ‘bags who have yet to achieve infamy of any kind. I mean, if you’re already famous and have the things you want in life, why be a douche? What purpose does it serve other than warn others to hold their breath as they pass you by? Unless the ways of douche are not merely a tool, but nothing less than the essence of existence for these types, and that, of course, makes celebri-douches all the more ridiculous and mockable.
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You bring up an important point, BM, so lets clarify.
The “Rockstar Leniency Rule” merely states that those who achieve a performative douchosity in service of spectacle as it relates to career are given wider latitude to be uberscrote.
This does not mean “exemption.” Only leniency.
For example, Gene Simmons of KISS often acts douchey. But that’s part of his shtick. Same for many W.W.E. wrestlers. If it’s a form of kabuki — douchery as element of the theatrical — then we allow some leniency. Otherwise, rockstars can be just as choady as anyone else, and should be mocked accordingly.
The Hardy Boy
Read the latest book in The Hardy Boy series as the Hardy Boy takes on his most challenging mystery yet, in The Case of the Drunken Bleeth.
Coming soon in paperback from Del Rey.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008Touch of Grey
Standing near a pouty brunette lightly slapping a blonde’s marshmallow.
Making what appears to be a “Half Shocker,” or a retarded “Westside” hand gesture with one’s hand.
Sneering at the camera and completely ignoring the marshmallow fondle taking place right in front of you.
Add ’em up, son, and you got the Greyson Twins of douchescrotery.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008Wookin' Pa Nub
Nub’s out of control!! He’s snapped Blondie’s neck and twisted her arm 180 degrees. Now he’s got the suntan lotion and giant yellow lace-less Converse shoes…
Lookout!!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008Jerz Ooze
Is there nothing you can’t poo?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008Where's Waldouche? Beachbag Edition
Somewhere in the lineup of healthy, perky coeds at the beach, I’ve carefully hidden a puka shell wearing, chin pube growing, giant mandanna’d beachbag.
Look closely.
Can you find him?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008HCwDB in the News
Filed in the “If You Can’t Beat ‘Em, Join ‘Em” category, The Bellagio held a Hot Chicks with Douchebags book release party last week.
Props to The Bellagio and The Bank for knowing quality when they see it, and to the ‘bags who showed up and signed copies. But mostly to the boobie hottie suckle thighs, for being curvy.
Sadly, the Elizabeth Banks clip where she plugged the site on The Tonight Show on Halloween was taken off Hulu. If anyone can find that clip, I’d pay good money to get it up on YouTube. Or, if not money, craven sexual favors involving hamsters, pre-chewed Bubble Yum and a confused Hasidic musician named “Avram” to supply Kazoo accompaniment.
And last week The Onion’s A.V. Club reviewed my book in a feature on successful blogs-to-books. Loved the coverage, although they did criticize me for a premise that “wears thin over time.” In related news, “Area Man” does something that signifies a small, sad existence, but it’s funny in headline form because newspapers don’t normally report on the banal. So it’s funny. For ten years straight.
Yeah. I don’t take kindly to criticism. Unless it’s by a hott after coitus. At which point she could curse my ancestors in Swahili and I’d still be humming the theme song to The Beverly Hillbillies.
Yup. The DB1 is rambling.
Time for coffee.
Monday, November 24, 2008The Earmunch
PIC DELETED
As with any polymorphous perversity, the sexual can be expanded conceptually; expanding into the realm of erotic massage, tantric breathing, and large rubber spandex pelican outfits greased up with Castor oil.
Ear munching combines two sensations. Touch. And grunt-snorting in one’s ear at an extremely high decibel. This can be fun in private. But in public, it is the sign of an insecure puddle of yak poo.
Note to Earmunch: If you have to symbolically consume your date in public, it is a ritual gesture of insecurity. We eat that which we fear losing to our competition.
And by eat, I mean tasty Hostess Cupcakes.
Monday, November 24, 2008Poppa Squat
Proving that White Sox Caps and sleeveless vest/t-shirt combos go perfectly with chin pubes, Poppa Squat ignores the lithe blonde trailing behind him in favor of making the “growl face.”
You bad, Poppa.
Now put down Ubiquitous Red Cup and back away from the blonde before someone gets hurt.
Monday, November 24, 2008Caption This Pic
Jenny, Caroline and Susan smell bacon grease.