Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Smote This

Dear Lord,

Please smite this couple so that they would be smoted.

For thou art a powerful and vengeful God. And thoust doth realize that the douche/bleeth, at such a polluted stage of terminal poo, deserves nothing less than the smoted of a smoting God who likes to smote.

Sincerely, and thanks for all the boobies.

Your humble prophet of the Hottie Douchie dialectics,
DB1

The Punch-face

The true measuring stick of a Punchface is determined by how much you’d pay to, well, punch the face.

I would go one over prime to punch that punch face.

I would renounce my throne as the prince of Zamunda just for the chance to punch that punch-face.

I would swear off cheap wine, tasty sugary HoHos and any product made by Kelloggs for at least a fortnight just for the chance to punch that punch-face.

And yes, Kelly isn’t the most blazing hott we’ve seen. But I still want to punch that punch-face.

Caption This Pic

Finally, the Lilliputians living in Kal’s brain could take no more boobie grabs nor skull tatts, and built a brick rocket off his right ear.

Tony Broma

Just when I think our months of research has uncovered every permutation of douche hand gesture, along comes Tony. With mandana, ring finger of scrote, and the most punch-worthy douche face since yesterday’s Punch-face, Broma is at least an extended ass-kicking away from restoring some semblance of balance to the universe.

And how delightful is Shawna’s awkward, shy, yet oozingly sexual smile?

I would hunt down fin-clipped flying roe in an indoor tropical bio-equarium while blindfolded with electric eels in the hopes that the subsequent splashing would awaken a nearby sheep whose wool was once sheered to make her childhood blankie.

Hers is the sexualized yet innocent paradox of the pinnacle of feminine beauty that drives artists to madness and the rest of us to war.

Satanic Nip

I’ve been getting some email complaints that I’ve been featuring too much Kettlehead on the site.

And while that’s probably true, I’d note that Kettlehead’s Chiquita Latino Hotts are all top-shelf quality, and worthy of individual boobie lust.

So while the point about Kettlehead is well taken, do not piss the DB1 off with complaints.

Or I will unleash more Satanic Nip.

For The Wank

Here’s the thing, Stan from Tampa.

If you’re going to fight your suburban pasty-ass whiteness by getting a gangsta tatt, the least you could do is go the full nine and actually spell it out.

It’s like you’re willing to permanently etch words on your stomach, but too lazy to spell them out?

Not cool.

Now stop nervously putting your arms around Carol and Patrice, and step away from the Bud Light before I take away the keys to your Chevy Suburban.

The Everpresent Hoverbag

We have been coving Hoverbags on this site for many a chin pube.

The Hoverbag, defined as any wankscrote, douchey or not, who decides to muck up a good sapphic kiss through redundant pointing and stupid-face, is detailed at length in my book.

And yet new manifestations and fungal growths of this sub-species of annoying-douche continue to sprout like so much mold in DJ Bello’s bathroom.

And each time, I want to squirt some bleach-based cleanser in their face until they get the hell out of the frame.

For the nth time, Hoverbags, no one cares about you. No one is looking at you.

Now get the hell out of the garage and go fetch me a chicken pot pie. I’m enjoying the show.

Sammy is Nottadouche

Sometimes you just gotta tip your ubiquitous red cup of Night Train wine and say good for you, large, round, pudgy Sammy.

It may be true that your B.O. smells like onions and you flop-sweat like a stuck pig even when it’s 25 degrees out. And yes, you’re still struggling to get your degree in “Computer Science” from that ad you answered in the back of the Penny Saver.

But you are happy and prideful of your dual balls of hott-mound without any need to make poseur “gangsta” gestures or douche-face. Without annoying bling or hat tilt.

They are lovely. Arm gnawing face melting balls of sucklability.

So good for you, Sammy. Major props. You’ve earned a nottadouche and go in peace.

Kettlehead’s Eyebrow

Kettlehead’s Eyebrow reminds you to vote in the Weekly. For his collar can’t pop in the presence of Chiquita Hotts all by itself.

Kettlehead's Eyebrow

Kettlehead’s Eyebrow reminds you to vote in the Weekly. For his collar can’t pop in the presence of Chiquita Hotts all by itself.