Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Abe Stinkin’

Four score and eighty Red Bulls ago, our forefathers still thought this guy sucked.

Abe Stinkin'

Four score and eighty Red Bulls ago, our forefathers still thought this guy sucked.

White Boy Frank from Tennessee

Gold rope ‘bling, gangsta stare, some tasty girl-next-door Chocolate Luv on your arm and the Lando Calrissian slick back ‘fro, all still won’t change the fact you’re White Boy Frank from Tennessee, White Boy Frank from Tennessee.

HCwDB of the Week

Another tough week to cull down to three finalists. But I went with three unique pairings, each one bringing a certain pooey je ne sais quaff to the table. All three of these couplings are worthy of anonymous internet mocking.

But which one shall rise? That, fellow hunters and huntresses, is up to you.

Here’s your hottie/douchey finalists of the week:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Studs Urkel

Appearing last Monday, this rank pairing of exotic Cleopatra bikini hott and a festering pile of camel poop was somewhat overlooked. As such I urge another round of contemplation here in the Weekly.

First’s there’s Cleopatra. A more than adequate serving of the hott on a bikini platter. She has the dainty eyes and delicate flower touch of soft skin cocoa butter cremes and tasty chocolate mousse in a fancy hotel restaurant.

Second, there’s the innovative Tri-Jesus-Bling cap at requisite 10 degree tilt.

And, finally, there’s the creepy weird abstract art facial hair that looks like a kitten fell into a Cuisinart.

Add it up, you have baby diaper.

Used baby diaper.

Pooey baby diaper.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: The Oily Bohunk

While not as overtly scrotey as some of the other pics, I’ve included O.B. for the reminder that the proper HCwDB pic is when the douche is so scrotey, and the hott so sweet, that the dialectic becomes the projection of our selves in a psychological sense.

Looking at Trent and Jocelyn, and you feel a thousand years of collective societal trauma in one douche-face.

And do not doubt that Bohunk is douche. Note the tighty-t and rosarie beads. And hair spike like one of those magnetic experiments with metal shavings you did in 5th grade.

As such, Trent the Bohunk becomes more than the sum of his hair-spike.

He’s one half of a proper hottie/douchey dialectic.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: ‘Bag Bats Maru aka Your Sunday “WTF?”

Yes, she’s PTP. And yes, he’s a creepy, apparently famous designer of some kind. Normally on those two counts alone I’d dismiss the pic as a publicity stunt and move on to the next.

But this pic is just too confusing.

Too genius.

Too absolutely bizarre not to run.

‘Bag Bats Maru, complete with widows peak and grillz, is just too damn douchey not to want to smack with a dead halibut.

And Bunny Hott has all the right curves and an innocent wholesome midwestern smile.

But does the PTP nature hurt the hottie/douchey commingling? Possibly. But sometimes ya gotta make an exception for a pic this confusingly scrotey.

That is where you come in. Which of these three pics most embodies the hott and scrote in coupling formation? Which rises (sinks?) enough to proclaim the title of HCwDB of the Week?

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

DJ Bello Finds a Most Favorite Girllllll

Watch for the brilliant use of French New-Wave aesthetics, the Ed Hardy Pigeon Poop Hat, creepy Betabag-on-Couch, and, of course, the wide-eyed innocence of the legendary dance king, DJ Bello.

(warning: adequate hott but brain-melting audio track. HCwDB takes no responsibility for seizures, vomiting, or extreme itchiness after viewing)

Sunday Thoughts: Veronica

As to your humble narrator’s weekend, yesterday I decided to venture out of my stained-rug apartment to meet up with one of our newest honorees in the Hall of Hott, Veronica.

Purely in the interests of the site and my readers, and not through any personal motivation, of course.

We met up on a beautiful sunny afternoon in humid, smoggy Los Angeles for some cheesy posh “drinks by the pool” at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Here’s a pic of Veronica calling her friends to inform them that she’s arrived in town and met up with your humble narrator. She looks perplexed by the DB1’s wily charms.

Here I’m informing Veronica that she’s now an official member of the Hall of Hott, with celebratory ironic “Shocker.”

A little later in the evening, over drinks, Veronica decided to douchebaguette it up.

And then, to make amends for her ‘baguette moment, Veronica rewarded me with a pose as the “sexy librarian.”

Ah, hanging in Los Angeles with a luscious, funny and nerdy-hott Hall of Hott ball of boobie hottie suckle thigh. There are worse things in life.

Your Saturday “WTF?”

There’s a backstory here involving lemon drop shooters, Paid-to-Pose East Asian tour guide welcoming committees, and an open casting call for the part of Renfield in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s new musical, “Vamp!”

Your Saturday "WTF?"

There’s a backstory here involving lemon drop shooters, Paid-to-Pose East Asian tour guide welcoming committees, and an open casting call for the part of Renfield in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s new musical, “Vamp!”

Friday Thoughts and Links

Your humble narrator sits on his balcony on this smoggy, humid Los Angeles Friday, and stares at the quiet city around him. I contemplate the Boobie Hottie Shoulder Suckle, and the Jerz Poopie Stain.

I ruminate on life’s purpose, then discover it. I spray Man Junk on my nethers and sip a cup of ‘Train.

And like the great Yogis taught me during my solace in Katmandu, I know that the truth is light, which is life. Which is not simply the boobie of a 19 year old pressed into a glass shower wall, making it all smushy, yet firm, yet smushy. It is so much more than that.

For as much as I enjoy the smushy 19 year old boobie pressed into glass, especially when it does that weeble-wobble up-down motion, I know that this hypnosis can only hint to me the Prana light. It cannot lead me through it.

Here’s your Friday Links:

Ladies of Louisville, Free Oral Sex Man offers you, well, free oral sex. That may have been redundant.

An Orange Oompa Guido gets busted on “To Catch a Predator” (skip to 6:03 in)

HCwDB legend The Gator finds a Number 2 (warning: no hotts).

Iconic ur-douche of a generation and the Moriarty to my Holmes, the legendarily fraudulent John Mayer, has decided that one Brody Jenner on TV isn’t enough.

Hot Chicks with Stormtroopers.

Hot Chicks with Fred Thompson

Celebudouche Ryan Seacrest tries to hi-five a blind guy.

Christian Audiger is the Typhoid Mary of the Douchal Plague. Someone seriously needs to pie this turdstain in the face for taking a giant crap on our culture. Audiger is even douching up Lamborghinis.

Go forth tonight, fellow Hunters and Huntresses. And spread the HCwDB gospel. By getting drunk, staring at boobs, and mocking scrotes from afar.

(Ghoulbag Trading Card designed by HCwDBs own Jean Claude Van Douche)

He Just Bangs Bitches and Makes it Rain

One of the greats of the literary canon here at HCwDB, the Tennyson of Taint, the Emerson of Emoticons, He Just Bangs Bitches and Drinks seems to have finally scored a girl (or an aunt?) in 2009. Here’s the latest burst of primitive outsider art from this poet of the street, (who looks remarkably, dare I say it, “normal,” in this pic):

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is Black Porsche 911 Carrera 2009…yippe do yay

still think 9/11 was “real”? Take a look at this
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From ill pimpin’ to unraveling the mysteries of 9/11. Looks like our instinctual artist may be growdsing up.

Or not.

(edit: removed link to 9/11 conspiracy nonsense, no need to accidentally promote that crap)