Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Nipsy Hussle

I chalk this up as a variant of the game young children play.

The “I’ll show you yours, then you show me mine, then I’ll shoot 20 CCs of Andro into my eyeballs and beat up a couch.”

That’s what they call it in the schoolyards now, right?

Jerztoberfest

Puds, please leave the Kappa Kappa Woo Sorority Sisters alone.

Jerztoberfest isn’t until January.

Name that Scrote

Last night’s HCwDB After Dark pic, in which this tatted up, hat tilted, pants dropping grease-scrote was found rubbing up on a fiery zebra Latina we’ll call Jezebel, was not given an official tag.

Since the naming pool is plentiful, I figured I’d open up the ‘tag for Monday’s Weekly. The leading contender right now is Troy Tempest with “Scribbles.”

Can you do better?

Tag that ‘Bag in the comments thread.

Reader Mail: The Britbag

—-
DB1,

— Natalie
—-

There are frequent cases of split personality ‘bags, Natalie, and you must be careful to check for the signs.

Search for hidden canisters of Axe Bodyspray in the bathroom. Rummage for old “Affliction” shirts hidden in the closet. Check his online bookmarks to see if he reads “The Dirty.”

It is not surprising to learn that such split-level choadsity is occurring in London. The alienation caused by living on an island of failed empire can only lead to the fracture of the self. That, and way too many Robbie Williams songs.

The Salt Licker Softly Weeps

This week’s HCwDB of the Week loser (winner), The Salt Lick, is not taking his loss (win) very well.

In protest over the vote, The ‘Lick went out and got the Gaelic symbol for “semi-employed” tattoed on his belly button. And now he’s macking on Tiny Lori with only semi-efforted douchosity.

Because The Licker’s blue.

He wanted scrotal appreciation. And we gave him only disinterest. Which is like spiritual death to a ‘bag.

HCwDB After Dark

Come on in!!

It’s late nite HCwDB.

We’ve got chips and dips.

‘Bags and whips.

Zebra hotts and creepy drips.

And a basket of tasty organic gourds.

Red Tony

Because when Red Tony really gets serious about playing the hilarious “Nipple Button goes ‘Boop!'” game on Lisa at the State Fair, he knows that only one forearm sweatband is for amateurs.

True Playahs wear two.

Chin Pube Dribble

Still out there.

Still douchey.

Smoot Laughs at Robopud

HCwDB of the Year contestant, Smoot, laughs at Robopud’s pathetic attempts to become uberdouche in presence of hott.

Smoot does not need Groin Shave Reveal in the presence of the ladies to announce his scrotal powers.

Nor does Smoot need kissy lips, hand gesture or facial hair.

For Smoot is douche. It is Zen Douchosity. And as such, it must be observed.

And by observed, I mean plaid shorts.

HCwDB of the Week: Robopud

A subtle pic when it first appeared, the power of Robopud’s “Ayyy!” hand gesture and GSR (Groin Shave Reveal), plus the Giggle Hottness of Mona and Kate, was too pungent an HCwDB combo, and took the Weekly.

The voters speak:

Wedgie: I gotta go with Robopud. GSR is an automatic vote getter in my book. Like Baggie a couple of weeks ago, the newest douchie maneuver tops all others in pushing my gag reflex. What could be worse than a man who is not preparing for a hernia operation intentionally shaving his crotch? Nothing.

08armydoc: Robopud, hands down. The abs say it all – if someone puts that much effort into his *abs*, how much effort does he have for the rest of his life? Ie, that last workout left him too tired to even smile. And to have that little body fat in order to show off said abs, he eats fewer calories than the slutty bookends.

Genital Electric: The Robopud. For his Hotts are the hottest, and his swim trunks have demonstrated their disgust over the GSR by vomiting their innards like a tired sea cucumber.

Patrick: Robopud. GSR, Bag Pouty Face, Stupid Hand Gestures, shirt hanging out of the trunks, stupid oversized sunglasses. Very hott hots. The pud wins, but we all lose.

The Donger: I have to go with Robopud and his hotts. They would all be stars if Paul Verhoeven decided to re-shoot “Robocop” and “Showgirls” together as a single indie arthouse film, though I would much prefer Robopud get run over with a steamroller while he just feature the girls in a movie called “Alabama Piledrivers #3.”

Bourbon Bill: Robopud ftw. He has come from the future to help proliferate the GSR to new levels. Who else could have known it was a great place to hang a shirt? Robots, that’s who

miss leigh: robopud!!! the hotts are hot and the douche is douchey!

End the Habedouchery: At some point in his worldly travels he decided “You know what? This shirt would look better hanging out of my shorts. That way I can show off my sweet abs.”

French for Shower: The Robopud kind of sneaks up on you. It’s hard to see just what a Douche he is because of the poor exposure but on close inspection the guy is an uberdouche. Warning don’t look to closely at his manscaping it’s horrifying.

Massengill: Gotta give it to Robopud for best impression of ED-209 by a douche.

Filthy McBaggin: Robopud. GSR has clearly become the province of the truly narcissistic Bag. Even with the welding shield on, I can see the self absorbed look on his face. He’s not happy to be there, he thinks those Bleeths are his birthright. I’ll bet he also thinks male porn stars are, well….stars.

Jessica: I like Robopud the most. He’s kind of an everydouche himself, but I love the girls, especially Mona, with her great ass, side-swept hair and glasses tilt. She reminds me of an 80s beer commercial, which makes me happy

Mmmm… Jessica bringing the sapphic imagery on this Wednesday morning. Good round on voting and excellent points all around. And by all around, I mean GSR makes me weep for the future.

Coming in a solid second, and nearly taking the prize, was the ridic Salt Licker and white glove:

Mr. Scrotato Head: Salt Lick for the win because someone in Interpol needs another opportunity to see this pick, show it to Franz and Helga, and ask in perfect Belgian dialect, “Heir Kruger, Frau Kruger, is this your daughter?” At which point Frau Kruger will burst into shieks of anguish and tears will roll down Franz’s face as he nods in stunded silence.

Anonne Huntress: Salt Lick ftw. If the only way you can get a barely legal chick while looking like that is to drug her until she can barely stand, you are a douche of epic proportions.

El Queso: I say it once, I say two times: Salt Lick Crew effects douchebag re-enactment of Rembrandt’s masterpiece, “The Night Watch”. and some dang screwball sour mash Kentucky poon-tang, aged in the finest hollers the backwoods can offer, a bona-fide 15 years.

El Caganer: I have to vote for Salt Lick. He has those goofy Mickey Mouse like gloves and spiky hair with a touch of dried bird poo. He also has the barely legal hott collection. His hotts are nice and slutty, just the way I like them.

Desert Douche: Salt Lick FTW. The gloves, the attempt at making seagull shit a fashionable hair trend, the under-age drunk girl who snuck out of the house to go to this slammin’ party and his hanger-on Sancho Panza make me want to rub salt in my open wounds.

Vin Douchal: He looks like he’s peeing on his leg at the bowling alley as he readies himself for a shot at a 300 game and greatness in his own mind.

And a solid third place belonged to the Dissected Frog:

AV: The Frog’s hair is a registered lethal weapon in three states. And he has been banned from riding blimps and hot air balloons in all fifty. Plus, his hott, Angelica, has an exotic quality that rouses my loins; more so than the other hotts. I hope he gets eaten by an alligator while riding a log to his home.

Publius Choadius Naso: Frogger FTW. Manicured chin pubes and eyebrows are enough to call douche on, but the emo affectations juxtaposed with the street (in)cred matching tats and t-shirt put him over the top in this weekly. And bouncing between all of that black and white stuff–hair, shirt, hott garb–adds an extra layer of poo to the swirling vortex of HCwDB.

Justin: My vote goes to Froggy. He has the outrageous hair spike, the chin dribble, the smug facial expression, the incomprehensible gang sign-like hand gestures, and he has pretty hot babes around him. Oh, and plucked eyebrows. Fuck you Froggy.

DoubleBock: With a nod and a shocker salute to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s quote, “There are no second acts in American Lives”, I vote Dissected Frog/Alpaca Farm Head for the win. His glorious return from the trash heap of history to the HCwDB weekly should inspire us all.

Well said, D.B., the ‘Frog reminds us that ‘bags on this site never really go away. They just pose again.

But as we gear up for the 2009 Douchies and vote in these smaller contests, Robopud, Mona and Kate had the hottal/douchal goods to take the prize. Lets let Bob take us home:

One vote for Robopud. He’s got the Dumb Hair, he’s got a little Meaningless Bling, he’s got the GSR, he’s got the Overdeveloped Abs, he’s got the Oversize Mirrored Sunglasses. All good and worthy ‘bag attributes. But mostly, he’s got those hotts. Mona, the one with the Side Ass profile? I would cockpunch a football field full of adorable penguins just for the opportunity to gargle the discarded water used to wash that bikini she’s wearing.

Well said on the hotts, Bob. Those football field penguins deserve their cockpunch. Given the short Monthly, Robopud may just sneak in and snag one of the coveted Yearly positions in a few weeks. For now, we laugh at his groin shave, and appreciate Mona’s curves. Excellent work to all who voted, and I get cereal now.