Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

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Two members of the cast of Cirque Du Soleil’s latest production, “DouchepooYu,” celebrated quietly at the after-party by hitting on Maria.

Reader Mail: The Legend of John Largeman

Et Tu Douche? writes in regarding June’s hovering spectral watcher, the legend in the making that is John Largeman:

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Dear DB1,

– Et Tu Douche?
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The Legend of John Largeman will most certainly receive a 2010 Douchie Award in December. For being our collective protector in abstract spectral form. His gaze is our gaze. His disgust, our disgust.

Mechachin

Mechachin gives you his knowing stare.

For Mechachin knows that if the Tartar Sisters go above and beyond the duties of their employment and try to kiss each other, Mechachin will be there. To ruin it for the rest of us.

Reader Mail: “Hotts in the Sticks”

Bigheaded DB Basher objects to my statement that there aren’t many hotts in the American rural hickland, and submits this pic as proof.

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DB1,

-Bigheaded DB basher
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Fair enough, BDBb. I would Robert her E.Lees and then softly, tenderly, and with great repose, Jefferson each of her Davises.

Breaking: Russell Brand and Whassername Marry

Some fellow ‘bag hunters have written in asking me to comment on uber-lame pseudo comedian narcissist Russell Brand’s marriage to pablum pop genericist Katy Perry.

I have little to add.

They are the product of the narcissistic swill lottery under cover of irony shield. Brand’s duplicitous self deprecation and Perry’s blank stare, each the latest Rorsharch mirror cut from the Britney cloth.

Comedic narcissism is still narcissism and the greatest pop musicians are never blank, issue free boobie carriers.

Neither are excused for bringing so little authenticity and art to the culture table. So go, Wannabe Sacha Baron Cohen and Dawson’s Creek Season Three replacement for Michelle Williams. Enjoy your exploitation of third world countries as a replacement for actual personality.

The Fratbrosephus Bros Celebrate With Arielle

The Fratbrosephus Bros decided to tip their Smirnoff Ass and unbutton their shirts to celebrate Pavel and Steph’s win in the HCwDB of the Week.

Oh who are we kidding?

I ran this pic for one reason: Glorious Arielle. Her sultry stare stems Dutch spigots with ethereal waxing foam. Her pokey boobies sing twelve tone harmonics of mellifluous harmonic boobosity. I’d clutch fondle a lupus addled poodle just for the chance to fly to Jakarta and study Sanskrit at the foot of a sherpa who once hit on her sister at a David Sidaris book signing.

HCwDB of the Week: Pistachio Pavel and Stephanie

In a well balanced Weekly, the ‘Stachio Orangeness of Pavel and boobarific boobitude of Steph were barely able to squeak out the win/loss, knocking off the favorite, Maximilian Smell, as well as the bouncing Alyssa’s Boobs and Teddy Douchechamp.

The voters speak:

fatness: Pisstachio Pavel and Stephanie for the Weekly. He looks like he fell into the fake popcorn butter vat at the local megaplex and his proximity to Stephanie’s perfect round mounds of glory makes me want to chuck a bunny into the wood chipper. The others are mere annoyances, except for Alyssa. Her funbags need a place in the Hall of Boobies.

The Reverend Chad Kroeger: Insert banana, cover with Cool Whip, put a cherry on on top and you have a HCwDB Sunday. Pistache for the RUSH. And by RUSH I mean douche.

Blair: Pistachio Pavel gets my vote because he’s a wannabe Ivan Drago. I want to wrap myself in the American flag and beat the snot out of him. Stephanie must break me.

all bagged out: Man that Pistachio is an orange son of gun and whoa Stephanie and her architecture! Take an orange pelt ,frosted hair, weird lip growth mix them in a blender and you have a weekly winner. Mock the Orange and free the Hott I say!

Charles Ulysses Farley: Pavel’s greasy orangeness with frosty hair and Stephanie’s greasy hair and ridiculous glasses make me want to use them to test the efficacy of the torture devices from the Inquisition that the Vatican keeps stored in its basement, allegedly.

Douchey Lewis and the News: Pistachio Pavel FTW. Crapulence…he has it.

Condouchious: All hotts are delectable this week, so we must focus on the douche… and Pistachio’s orange glow gets the vote. I feel like I need special protective goggles just to look at him which of course will lead to me screaming “Ze googles! Zey do nothing!”

Anonymous: Pistachio Pavel, aka PeePee, and his hott FTW. because of the Orange. My god, the orange.

DoucheyWallnuts: Pavel Pistachio FTW. He is the living, breathing equivalent of an “up-the-backer” diaper – a diaper load that is so full of poo it literally oozes out of the diaper and up the back of the poor diaper wearer. He is greasy, orange, spikey poo-trescence, and is douchey without needing any other accessories save the fondley, suckly, gnaw-worthy euro-bleeth.

Nancy Dreuche: my vote goes to Pistacho Pavel who looks like Orange Chicken with a mustache. Stephanie better watch out for the dangerous levels of MSDouchey this guy obviously contains.

the douche whisperer: pistachio pavel’s level of douche exceeds my level of expertise. pistachio needs what amounts to an exorcism before i can do anything. pistachio ftw.

dbBen: Pistachio. Because if you’re going to do a mustache, you do it all the way

Et Tu Douche?: Pistachio Pavel. He is a toxic reminder of the influence that corporate marketing & programming is having on the youth culture worldwide. GSR, tweezed eybrows, tan spray, tip frost etc; render him a follower and for that he deserves scorn, mock and the win/loss.

Amerigo Vesdouchey: I was hoping to cast an enthusiastic vote for the festering waste of stinkpile hipsterbag Topher. But Pavel will do. Maybe a win will give him the motivation he needs to finally see a doctor about that unholy case of Jaundice.

That’s exactly it. Orangeness euro toxicity and sexy Nordic Hott trumps Vegas Jerz hybridity. Coming in a solid second, only a few votes away from winning the whole enchilada, the surprising and boob powered Teddy Douchechamp and Alyssa:

memphis doucheworkers local 421: Allyssa is the hot, friendly bartender at your local watering hole, and you think that she might be single and possibly interested in more than just your consistent tipping. Until her boyfriend Teddy shows up at last call after his “gig” at the county fairgrounds. You should have known that you were outclassed by his sleevetats, entitlement face, and ability to play Three Nickel Creed Down Back covers.

Sergeant Scrote Stain: Ol’ Tedster probably slang a gram of weed once in and high school yet calls himself a drug lord.

Taint Nuthin But A G-Thang: Teddy is the text book definition of a wannabe who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper sack if he had a machete. Alyssa, on the other hand, is making this old man take his heart medication.

Douche Springsteen: I want to break a Godsmack CD over this guy’s stupid face then take his girl to Sizzler.

Southern Scrotic: We could talk about Teddy’s sleeve tat, chin pubes, ripped jeans, and stupid t-shirt, but why? I just want to bury my face in Alyssa’s pillow soft boobage and dream the dreams of kings.

Ponderonymous: He’s a douche. Maybe not the high-caliber carotene overdosed shirtless grease monkeys he is pitted against, but by God, he has the aura. And he sure has hell is not fit to caress the lucious curves of that muse Alyssa.

Mr. White: After physically pushing my eyeballs away from Alyssa’s chest missiles, I couldn’t help but notice that she has chosen to show her face to the world instead of wearing a pair of sunglasses made out of an old Honda Prelude windshield, unlike so many bleeths (I mean you, Stephanie). I salute you, Alyssa. And you know what I mean by “salute.”

Dicy: Alyssa for HoH btws.. I think I love her. Usually the best boobs on here have icky faces but Alyssa is just all around rockin’… just sayin.

One for the Choad: Teddy and Alyssa. He’s a walking checklist for all things scrote (chin fung, tat sleeve), and she’s a potential Golden Globes winner. Done and done.

Alyssa’s heart-stopping eye gaze and chest bosomgas deserve award at the 2010 Douchies, One for the C, we will definitely seem those two again. And by those two, I mean those two. In solid third, a surprising finish for the favorite, Maximilian Smell and assorted Vegas Hotts:

Deltus: Max Smell (and by that, I mean poo) is unapologetic douchebag to the core, and super fist-pumpingly, hott-taintingly, vomit-inducingly proud of it. He infects not because it’s what he does, but because it’s what he is (and by it, I mean poo).

Dr. Bunsen HoneyDouche: Maximilian Smell and Kaylie and Heather FTW! His skank gravitation field is so strong that he can pull them in wherever he goes.

soy bomb: He’s a douche and Heather is a bleethed-out plasticine pseudo-human while MILFY Kaylie is pure sexiness in a black bikini. I would make her the best grilled cheese she’s ever had.

Istandouche: Say what you want but Max is one happy douchebag, he smiles in all his pictures and refrains from hand gestures save for the last pic. For this reason, he doesn’t have the rage factor but he’s unquestionably the biggest douche amongst the three with the occasional high-quality hott.

tballou: Maximum Smell FTW, in recognition not only for his douchie coupling with Kaylie and Heather, but also for his entire body of work at HCWDB.

Max was our classic douche, but this was Orange Pavel and Stephanya’s Euro glow week to glow. Lets let Tom Choad take us home:

Pavel’s semi-smirk, frost-tipped spike-do and prepubescent girlish physique make me want to consume way too much Mexican food and grain alcohol, vomit it all over the Norwegian pop band A-Ha, then light them on fire. And despite the idiotic giant sunglasses, Stephanie’s sensational succulence makes we weep softly into my pillow while applying salve to my over-fapped penis. The other two conetstants pale (literally) in comparison. Pavel FTL.

Well said, T.C., and excellent work to all who voted in the comments thread. Chalk up some the Pistachio and Stephanie for the first entry in the final Monthly before our Yearly at the 2010 Douchie Awards in December, and your humble narrator for tasty Corn Pops.

Reader Mail: Heather Tags a Redneckbag

Heather writes in from Florida after snapping this pic at a concert:

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not a visible HCwDB combo since they were hidden by redneck accessories but I thought I’d share with you a strange oversized Lynyrd Skynyrd concert douchebag!
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I’ll forgo the usual hottie/douchey requirements for a first person ‘bag tag of this much hilarity. We don’t get a lot of rural Redneckbags on the site, but they are out there. There just ain’t a lot of hotties in the sticks.

Douchebags Down Under

With the recent success Australia has had fighting back the Douchebag Plague, reader moomz writes in to tell and show us that all is not well in Oz:

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Warning!.. Warning! The douche bag epidemic has gone global and is spreading faster than herpes on the set of jersey shore.. I found these pix on a friend of a friends facebook!

– moomz
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Perhaps it is time to call upon The Choad Warrior. To seek vengance in our post-douchepocalyptic wasteland. Keep mocking, moomz. The battle continues.

Nipple Mitch Steals a Kiss from Kelly

While Kelly regrets not going to Wellesley instead of ASU.