Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Schmock

We’ve charted many ‘bag trends over the years here at HCwDB.

But we’ve never fully identified this strange black hybrid muscle-t/bra that so many of our club puds sport.

Is there a singular defining shirt more indicative of douche-poo than this monochromatic name-brand tight black club bra?

I think not.

I therefore dub item of pudwear, The Schmock.

Oh, and you got a little Ed Hardy stain on your pants there, Schmock Wearer. Let me get it off. With elephant pee.

Where the Wild Things Aren’t

So this dead tree forest is where childhood imagination goes to die.

Yes, fellow ‘bag hunters. That’s facial stubble shaved into semi chin-strap.

While glorious Gloria smiles for the camera and wonders if her ex is still single.

Where the Wild Things Aren't

So this dead tree forest is where childhood imagination goes to die.

Yes, fellow ‘bag hunters. That’s facial stubble shaved into semi chin-strap.

While glorious Gloria smiles for the camera and wonders if her ex is still single.

Ask DB1: The Trumpbag

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Hey db1,

– Scrotald McDoteald
—-

1980s Trump is definitely one of the Choadal Founding Fathers of the modern ‘bag plague. His garish excesses and narcissistic self-absorption led to the modern club going puds we see attempting to “live large” today.

Trump is a founder of the religion of consumptive narcissism. His soul is as hollow as his hotels are empty. Sure we can make fun of the hair. But even hairless, Trump combs over his psyche to hide the crisis of empathetic absence that rots underneath.

Kettlehead Demands 2009 Douchie Considerations

In preparation for our upcoming awards show, The 2009 Douchies (beginning December 7th), ‘bags like Kettlehead are demanding appreciation for their ability to pull hotts while arching a singular eyebrow.

I already told Kettlehead he didn’t even win a Weekly, let alone a Monthly, and therefore is ineligible for the 2009 HCwDB of the Year.

But his creepy, shiny shaved chest and double brunette kiss skill are demanding satisfaction.

And by satisfaction, they mean laser treatments every ten to twelve weeks.

The Unknown Jersey

Say a prayer for The Unknown Jersey.

Marked neither by athlete name, sports team affiliation or jersey number, the Unknown Jersey wanders the clubs with only mandana, arm tatt and chin pube dribble to mark his identity.

Until he finds Gucci Prada teethy to hit on.

And then he is memorialized forever.

By the bouncer. Who throws him out.

Where’s Waldouche? Homeless Trucker Edition

Somewhere in this uneven assortment of giggle girls (with Red Bra in the back winning the top prize), I’ve carefully hidden a homeless trucker douche.

Look closely.

Can you semi-employ him?

Where's Waldouche? Homeless Trucker Edition

Somewhere in this uneven assortment of giggle girls (with Red Bra in the back winning the top prize), I’ve carefully hidden a homeless trucker douche.

Look closely.

Can you semi-employ him?

Reader Mail: Unearned Dog-Tags

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hi there DB1,

-Military ‘Bag Hunter
—-

Amen, MBH. Glad and humbled to entertain you. The unearned dog-tag wearing “tough guy” poser type (pictured here) wish they had what you have.

Stay safe over there, and get your ass back here as soon as you can. The hotts need saving from the poseur douchewanks as soon as your tour is over. I expect you to serve this mission as soon as you’re back.

Where’s Harry Potter?

Somewhere in this standard issue HCwDB of Vegas Party Douche and Paid-to-Pose luscious brunette Hottness, I’ve carefully hidden a grinny, creepy Harry Potter.

Look closely.

Can you find him?