Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Sunday Musings

It’s Sunday afternoon in smoggy Los Angeles. Your humble narrator sips some Trader Joes Blood Orange soda from a URC and turns on the TiVo.

Battlestar has gone stupid. But The Graham Norton Show is his new obsession. The Brits always rule at comedy.

A helicopter circulates over the smog in Los Angeles proper. The city is bored today. Lazy. In molasses-like slo-mo.

Like a John Woo ending without the guns and doves.

Starlet hotts in houses near Larchmont, hung over from last night’s affairs on Hollywood Blvd, kick out spikey haired douchewanks into the blinding sun.

A dog barks. He hates popped collars.

Good for you, Sparky.

Have a biscuit.

Beefy Cow and the Perky Mellons

Ah yes, two lovely squeezey perky suckle thighs, and a beefy slice of festering cow carcass.

Jesus died for your pec, Beefy Cow.

As to sweet, innocent Yellow Blonde Maiden, I would flagellate myself with hairs plucked from rare albino Arabian horses and sing an off-key rendition of the Kinks’ Big Sky, just for the chance to mildly amuse Princess Mufesta enough for her to call her guards to throw me in the same dungeon where Yellow Blonde Maiden once passed through during her sophomore year “study abroad” program when she was at Arizona State.

Stereodouchtonic Twin Saturday

One half of the legendary HCwDB Superheroes and Hall of Scrote enshrinees, The Stereodouchetonic Twins, is making his wonderdouche activate as we speak.

STD #1 is scrotally superior in every aspect.

Only the truly superhuman ‘bag can turn orange, pull off a pink tank-top, and have a fantasically chewably sexy bikini hott drapped across him without distracting his focus on the camera to capture his power in action.

Stereodouchetonic Twin #1 is so powerful, so douche-inspiring, he renders a 10 Degree Hat Tilt Fratchoad practically irrelevant in his wake.

Do not doubt his douchal supremacy. Nor the whiteness of his teeth.

Don’t hate the Playah…

…hate this guy.

Bonus points: Find the various Ubiquitous Red Cups and Rare-Ass Blue Cups I’ve hidden somewhere in this pic.

Bonus Points #2: Boobies bounce softly, like wilting winter lillies lying upon a porch step after late August breeze wafts and blows the petals. Like boobies. This makes no sense. Boobies.

Don't hate the Playah…

…hate this guy.

Bonus points: Find the various Ubiquitous Red Cups and Rare-Ass Blue Cups I’ve hidden somewhere in this pic.

Bonus Points #2: Boobies bounce softly, like wilting winter lillies lying upon a porch step after late August breeze wafts and blows the petals. Like boobies. This makes no sense. Boobies.

Friday Bra!! and Links

Bra!! I frosted my tips and got a new tatt, broheim!! And dig the sexy cheerleader I met on the beach!! Too bad she’s with this dude.

Oh well. Best go find another tasty cola beverage.

Here’s your links:

So where does Poo, our HCwDB of the Week winner, rank on the Bristol Stool Scale?

Arthur Kade is concentrated douchewater. Read this thing alll the way through, the comments thread is a work of genius.

Swedos (aka: Swedish Guidos)

The legendary Guido Beach is back online. Check it out before it gets pulled again.

Stay douchey, San Diego.

Fake Joba Chamberlain. Ass-clown? Or hero?

Your humble narrator has consumed a tasty microwave lasagna from Trader Joes, and is ready to ride on into Friday’s eve sipping cheap wine, scratching myself in inappropriate places, and watching TiVo’d Flight of the Conchords. All is good with the world in sunny, smoggy, text message clogged Los Angeles.

Except for Poo.

Who haunts me like a phantasmic Jacob Marley.

EDIT: Since the links were a bit too douchecentric, have some Friday Ass Pear. You’ve earned it.

Poolan Rouge

Sexy-Dirty Drew Barrymore Cute actually has a pretty nice tan. Speaking of course, of the real world.

She’s normal, with a healthy pink glow, and she wants to lightly powder my bottom with confectioner’s sugar and then slap me with a Flowbee.

Which is how it should be.

But then Poolan Rouge comes along. Grinning like a forgotten piece out of our collective racist minstrel past that we’ve papered over and hidden from memory.

Reapprorpriating the burnt cork Al Jolson stereotypes of yesteryear, Poolan Rouge is blackface, by way of Indianface, by way of Jerzy guidoface, by way of poo.

Even Ubiquitous Red Cup can only sit and marvel at his redness, spilling over into blotches on his shirt.

Thankfully, the hippie dude down the hall just wants to borrow Poolan’s Spin Doctors CD.

Legohead

Tell me this emo rocker douche doesn’t have the creepy teflon removable Lego Head thing going on there.

Because nothing impresses tasty blonde paisley wearing boobie hottie suckle thighs quite like arm-tatts and VHS.

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Eve

Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Eve?
Thou art so damn easy to self deprecate
Preppy popped collared pastel hued short sleeves
Off center hats from colleges of state
Fraternal allegiance bro’s define
Common decency you have grossly rimm’d
Red cup to red cup, PBR, not wines
Intelligence and interest art dimm’d
But thy bag of douche shall not outright fade
Nor pose without lip pucker I do know’st
Nor has un-tucked striped shirt been yet unmade
Human’s worst condition in dark clubs grow’st
So long as man thinks hotts he plainly sees
So long this ode remains offered to thee.

— Anonymously jerky hating

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Eve

Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Eve?
Thou art so damn easy to self deprecate
Preppy popped collared pastel hued short sleeves
Off center hats from colleges of state
Fraternal allegiance bro’s define
Common decency you have grossly rimm’d
Red cup to red cup, PBR, not wines
Intelligence and interest art dimm’d
But thy bag of douche shall not outright fade
Nor pose without lip pucker I do know’st
Nor has un-tucked striped shirt been yet unmade
Human’s worst condition in dark clubs grow’st
So long as man thinks hotts he plainly sees
So long this ode remains offered to thee.

— Anonymously jerky hating