Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

HCwDB of the Week: Flex Luthor and Jennifer

It’s nice to see Classic Jerz Pud acting douchey in the presence of a tasty slice of hott pie get recognition. And by recognition, I mean enough mocking to win the Weekly. And by nice, I mean cultural nadsuck.

And lets not forget Flex and Jen #2. The voters speak:

Ted: Gotta be Flex Luthor FTW…. All three are offensive (though Suckerfish merely descends into “Village People” nimroddery), but after a week (or three) of pure freak shows, we need a return to normalcy, the kind best represented by a steroid takin’, Ed Hardy-wearin, fist-pumpin’ Goombah such as Flex.

Soy Bomb: Jennifer is wholesome whott while Flex is burnt, cut and a solid douchebag. I’ve seen his kind many a time here in South Bay, harassing helpless drunken beach hotties such as Jennifer here while I sulked in the background, shaking my head and milking another Zima. Congrats Flex! Nice hat. You suck.

Chad Kroeger: Flex Luthor. Flex breaths, eats, finds water, sex, sleep, and excretes, his homeostatic propensity is ambigous. And Flex Luthor is so wide he cannot get out of the bottom level of Maslow’s pyramid.

Douches Wild: I must endorse the OG form from this crew, FLEX, a skidmark in the pants of society and Jennifer, who radiates nuanced degeneracy and a connoisseurs swivel hips.

Tony Ventresca: I vote for Flex Luthor, because he looks just like the cartoon douchebag that is at the bottom-right of this comments page. I also vote for Jennifer, because she’s got the look I like but will never have, and because she’s got muscle on those upper arms (no matronly arms on this one!).

justadouchalo: Flex Luthor and Jennifer for the weekly. Flex for giving us tennisball bicep, eye makeup and stupid face. Jenn for giving us ‘most expensive first date’ and a troublesomely persistent burning sensation when we urinate.

DarkSock: Sumbitch is so wide he has to sleep in a cul de sac.

Whoop-di-douche: FLEX and his HOTTIE have the strength to wipe out the rest of the competition this week. And by strength I mean exhibitionistic testosterone poo-poo making whoopie with estrogenic woo-woo.

Crucial Head: He’s so wide he works part time as a concrete tilt-panel for an office building in Calabasas. In the evening he’s employed as a roof truss at the new Cowboy’s Stadium. He has to roll on the ground to get his clothes on. When he pumps weights on the bench press, he has to weld sixteen bars together and lay down on the tarmac of an aircraft carrier.

scrotum pole: Flex appears to have blown out blood vessels while flexing for his pic. I give him credit for the effort. I give Jennifer credit for her lovely smile and her fine, understated boobies.

Guy LaDouche: He makes me ponder whether to commit seppuku or deliver him to the woodchipper ala Fargo. She is a lovely dish of delicate creme brule that I wouldn’t tap with a spoon for fear of destroying the perfection of its creation.

Albert Eindouche: As the world turns and we find more and more disturbing examples of scrote there will always be a place for that base, nay, let’s say elemental douche that is the Jersey Guido. He is the harbinger of all that is black and sad. And by harbinger I mean “You STD riddled, roided out, sloped forehead having douchebag!”

Hong Kong Douchey: You could break up concrete with that beak on Flex and his cranium wouldn’t notice the difference. There is hope for Jennifer. If she is saved now she could be the hot mom in the suburbs who loves her kids and slightly nerdy husband completely since she knows what types of ‘bags are out there.

Snoop Douchey Bagg: Having just gotten back from a week of drinking and gambling and whoring in Vegas, (where the ‘bag virus has gotten so strong that now almost every hotel has its own in-house 24-hour tattoo shop), I’m going to vote for the old-school pud-wankery of Flex. Also, Jennifer makes my pants happy.

Medusa Oblongata: Gorgon Country is 100% behind Flex Luthor. From the neck up, he looks like Sylvester Stallone in full drag makeup. From the neck down he looks like a shaved bison. I pray a steroid-induced aneurysm keeps him from impregnating the lovely Jennifer, whose warm smile and firm, shapely biceps have be-slickied my undies.

Abdouchah the Butcher: I’m casting my vote for Flex & Jennifer despite the fact that Simona gets the nod for Hottest Hott. Flex has that uberchoad air of superiority and disdain for the hott, the smug & proud pursed lips of a truly choice ‘Bag. Flex Luthor & Jennifer FTW.

Exactly, nicely parsed, fellow hunters. And it’s important that while new ‘bag/hott formulation permutations like Jed the Creepy Wankscrote and Penny are mocked, the classic Jerz Pud still has a place at HCwDB. Coming in a close second, that ridic tatt of Crayon Gary and Simona:

Deltus: Gotta go with Crayon Gary and Simona on this one. He isn’t just a douchestain, he’s a stain on the fabric of humanity, on my very soul. Dumb fauxhawk, mandana, Skittles beads holding what I think is an infant pacifier (SRSLY?!?!), shirtlessness and, of course, the stupidest chest tatt I’ve ever seen. Simona is beautiful island/vaguely exotic hott perfection who knows she could ask you to do anything and you would. His touching her brings me to the greatest boiling point of rage and willingness to kill.

Bag Margera: Crayon Gary. I don’t think grubby e-tards get enough praise on this website. And by praise I mean castration.

mr. reeve: My vote is for Crayon Gary and Simona. #1 Simona is hot but she needs to be careful when she attends concerts in the California desert. Predator-Bag has been known to be looking for young hot latina girls…..aren’t we all though? #2 Wanna-B-Bag is totally irritating. This dick wants to be a douche but won’t commit. Do it or not Crayon Gary! No one likes a half ass effort for Christ sakes!

Jacques Doucheteau: Crayon Gary best represents existentialism in Aristotelian causality of the three nominees this week. The yellow mandanda is his telos, yet it also creates meaning for the wearer. He exemplifies the great words of Ortega y Gasset: “Yo soy yo y mi mandana amarillo,” whilst still maintaining a paradoxical cuasal relation (which came first, the yellow mandana or the douchebag?). This series of propositions is what Aristotle referred to as infinite douchegress.

Mr. Bagoo: Crayon Gary wins because he is an asshat.

massengill: Simona is actually a Lakota Sioux tattoo artist whose given name is Dances with Twinks.

Baleen: I’d like to put Gary in a ring with an overweight schizo mentally retarded man boy hopped up on angel dust just to teach him a lesson.

bigphatnottadouche: Crayon maybe a happy looking harmless douche, but he is still a douche. Simona is Hott in a dirty kind of way.

Claude Douchenburg: A foot up for Gary and a thumbs up for Simona. And by foot up, I mean way up south of Garys taint and by thumbs up I mean both, where ever you want them my sweet Simona.

Douche Dastardly: And let’s talk about that tattoo. It looks like something I saw on the wall of the bathroom of a really bad Mexican restaurant where I had the misfortune of ordering the rancheros diablos and in turn made a Jackson Pollack in there toilet.

Indeed, DD, and I sense a potential 2010 Douchie Award nom for that tatt, fake or not. Coming in a solid but distant third, The Suckerfish:

THEONETRUEDOUCHE: Suckerfish. The balding hair- the fugly face, that huge forehead, the pink shirt- yes he is the douche of the week

Evil_Readheaded_Stepchild: Suckerfish is so douchey he makes me want to slap all straight women just on the off-chance that one of them might someday date him. I sentence Melanie to a firm and bouncy paddling for getting that close. Her safeword will be ‘Bronzer’.

Douchey Lewis and the News: Melanie and the Suckerfish ftw. He looks like the fluke worm monster from the X Files episode The Host.

I thought the Suckerfish would find more support. But this was classic Jerz Pud week at HCwDB. Lets let The Motley Douche take us home this week:

Gotta go with FL & J this week. The kissy lips are bad enough, but add to that the unnecessary bicep flex and that seals the deal. Look, Flex…you’re obviously in shape. Good for you and your steroid dealer. The only thing you prove by showing us is that you are complete and total douche. You deserve to be mocked to the fullest extent of our collective abilities. Once Jen wakes up from her rohypnol-induced stupor and realizes she’ll never be able to wash the spray tan stain off her hand, she’ll need a shoulder to cry on. And I will offer mine, whilst daydreaming of days past when the world was much less infected with the global scrote virus.

Well said and gold stars to everyone. A solid Weekly winner with true hottie/douchey dialectics. And so we celebrate with sugar cereal. And unshaven stubble.