Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Aquapoo

No, you see, underwear parties are where we get to see the ladies in fruffy negligees, Aquapoo.

Not you.

Now please return your excess forehead at the front desk. We recycle.

He Just Bangs Bitches and Is Going to be Treated Like a Pharaoh

HCwDB Monthly winner and Hall of Scrote legend, He Just Bangs Bitches and Drinks welcomes Samurai Scrote to the Yearly with a burst of linguistic tone-poetry on his Facebook page:

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I wasn’t born to work.

Interests: I’m not here to make friends..I’m here to f@#k bitches and get money.
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Ladies and gentlemen, the Marcel Proust of our time.

HCwDB of the Month: Samurai Scrote

Perhaps it was preordained in The Book of the ‘Bag:

Upon ‘ere betwixt November and December, there shall rise a Samurai Scrote to rule the Monthly, and fondle a lithe popsicle hott with preternatural calm.

The votes have been counted. And yes, I really did count them. I did not assume an S.S. win. But the Sam was too strong, and did dominate.

clementine of cappadoucha: He is Kihon Douchebag, His yin is choad and he yangs of smeg. There is no beginning, there is no end. Little old men in South East Asia ponder his wankiness to release Taiji energies. I ponder his hottie. Samurai means “To Serve” in Japanese, and he serves poo. Samurai FTW.

captain abag: Samurai Scrote. He is lord of the understated douches.

anonymous: When climbing the mountain of poo to ask the chosen one “Which one should I vote for?” he said, “Grasshoppper, close your eyes and experience the douchness. Only when the doucheness enters your mind and cannot be eradicated can you make the proper choice.” After many days I cannot get the image of a Napoleonic, mandana-wearing samurai out of my head. And besides, even though his hott doesn’t have the funbags of the others, I would strangle baby otters with Shamwows just to pick the lint out of the drier used to dry her underwear. The Samurai it is.

anonymous: samurai scrote makes my blood boil.

douchetoevsky: rock beats scissors, paper beats rock, phils beat rays, samurai scrote destroys shiva, and laughs mockingly at the mere mortals who dare stand against him in opposition, wee wee wee all the way home.

paper or plastic?: Much like a recent election of lesser consequence, the results of this monthly will be celebrated on a global scale and usher in a new douche order. Samurai in a landslide.

douchepac shakur: Samurai Scrote is subtle. Samurai Scrote is genuine. Samurai Scrote is rage. Samurai Scrote is Monthly.

jonezy: samurai scrote because he is the everyman’s douche. There is a samurai scrote in all of us- we are all one, yet all of us are douchey in our own singularity. Like a katana blade to the face, Samurai Scrote slashes deep beyond my flesh and reveals the true nature of douche within me.

crucial head: I was once a non-believer in Şǻmǚřǽ Ŝcrœtə. An infidel, if you will. My miniscule mind simply could not comprehend the possibility of a power that exceeded the limits of rational consciousness. But alas, dear brothers and sisters, those foolish thoughts were vanquished the night Şậmΰѓǽ ♀♂ made a personal visit to my bedroom.

The non-disclosure agreement Ŝαmu®åï made me sign renders most of the details from that night moot. But, I have been mercifully allowed to say that it involved bacon grease, a rack of lamb and a lamp. When all was said and done, I had asked the §äмứѓǽ into my heart and he had washed me free of all doubt.

Well said, S.S. voters. And many more excellent comments can be found in the comments thread. But Chumlee found a small but dedicated scrum of voters who cast their lot his way. notadouche explains Chum and Beatrice’s dual power:

At first I didn’t think Chumlee was that bad. I didn’t even vote for him in the weekly. But as I stare at those round, magnificent funbags. . . my gaze slides over to the poo that is his face and I can feel it. There is an almost indefinable ick about the poo that is Chumlee. He taunts me with his smug expression. For that I hope he is roasted alive by African Pygmies. Yes, Pygmies. Also, I would push over someone’s grandmother (not my own, who do you think I am??) for the chance to place hottie’s bra in its washer safe ball before laundry time.

I have also pushed grandmothers, N.D., so I can relate. The Red Baghunter Manfred Freiherr von Douchehofen agrees:

Sure, I wanna strangle SS with his thin leather 80’s tie.

None of those two is as rage inspiring as Chumlee. Douche hand gesture #469 just teases you into wanting to place your fist right between his index and middle finger and set his hood on fire. Also his Hott boobies the hot out of the other boobies.

The rage of the hood + boobies of boobies is a noteworthy combo, RB. But amanda brings the female ‘bag hunting perspective, to cast in for Sisqo Nose Tentacle Douche, The Last Dragon:

Last Dragon. The white mildewed hair alone propels him into DouchePantheon status but the laser-snot-kryptonite-titty-mauling elevates him into a realm all his own.

But it is S.S. for the Monthly and the last slot in the Yearly. zen wizard sums it up:

Samurai Scrote scores “less is more” points for the bizarre choice of mandana and indoor shades (plus bonus 5-o’clock shadow) for what appears to be a semi-formal event somewhere.

He is the Frank Lloyd Wright of douche.

Samurai Scrote reportedly inspired Ayn Rand to write a soft-core erotic novel that became misunderstood as a political treatise in the 1950s. You may know it as Atlas Douched.

See you in the yearly, S.S.

Scrotocracy in America

As the French political thinker Alexis de Tocqueville remarked upon journeying through America in 1855:

Still, as the persevering enemy of douchebaggism everywhere, and under all its forms, I am pained and astonished by the fact that the freest people in the world is, at the present time, almost the only one among civilized nations which yet maintains douchey-ass tatt-shirts; and that this scrotedom is done in presence of drunk hotts in red bustiers suggests a more profound ass kicking is needed than ‘ere I had believed.

Tocqueville knew what was up.

Name That 'Bag

Here’s where you get to chime in and identify the exact strain of scrotal taint occupying proximity next to angelic, if a tad skinny, Porcelain Hott.

Bugbag?

Robobag?

Insectiscrote?

I can’t decide. Help me tag this ‘bag in the comments thread.

EDIT: d. baggins v2.0 wins with “Mick Bagger”

Nicely done, all. I need to do more of these.

Kissyface Nelson

Pink Pop and Kissy Lips are two of the nine key douchal identifiers that I describe in my book. In concert with Nike douche-band and unbuttoned shirt, they amplify the wreckage to a state of supreme poo.

And note Ubiquitous Red Cup. Watching. Always watching.

Poor Ni-Moon. The South Korean summer program to the States sounded so exciting in the brochure.

The Sports Bra

Is it me or are the tighty muscle-ts beginning to resemble sports bras?

Nice smug douche-sneer, Frank. Sure Kimmy just turned 19, and the Sorority trip to Vegas is “like, bitchin’.” But that doesn’t mean you have to apply the choke-headlock “embrace” so she can’t easily escape.

Kimmy’s belly pooch is crying out for me to recite W.H. Auden poetry above it, and then nibble on its softness like a caffeinated hedgehog on paint thinner.

Reader Mail: 'Bags with Sunglasses Are Old

PIC DELETED

Clubgoing party girl Mo writes in:

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DB1-

Have you ever noticed that douchebags usually wear shades at night and at clubs. The douchebag guys I know do this ’cause they’re way over 30 and have crows feet from all the partying. They want to maintain their youth and attract young naive girls. So, they wear dark shades to hide their eyes and crows feet. What’s sad is that the young 18-25 year old girls actually believe these guys are around their age. Gross!
– Mo
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Gross indeed, Mo. Gross, indeed.

Guys in their early 30s should definitely not chase 18-25 year old girls. I must go now and drink, and quietly weep in my Guinness.

Donkey Douche is Different Walks of Life

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Breaking: Criss Angel Dating Playboy Bunny, Still a Huge Douche

Because I like to keep up with those other popular celebrity blogs, I thought I’d EXCLUSIVELY BREAK this BREAKING story:

Criss Angel smells like poo.

What?

You heard?

Dammit. Beaten by TMZ again.