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Saturday, April 30, 2011
Comment of the Week: Dude McCrudeshoes’s Ode to Kelly
Continuing my new plan to highlight some of the genius in the comments threads, this week’s award comes from Wednesday’s Martin Expresses His Inner Child to Kelly thread, and goes to ‘bag hunter Dude McCrudeshoes:
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What went wrong, young Kelly? You were on the debate team, the pep squad, and your B average guaranteed you a shot at community college, though you knew tuition would be a stretch and you’d get no help from your unemployed deadbeat father.
So you took a night job, I’m guessing? The best paying night job in town, I’m guessing? And your dreams of healthcare management went whirling down the porcelain bowl just like the gallons of Coors Lite your patrons piss away every night. Spin on the pole, grind a little, tell ‘em how strong and handsome they look and how you need money for your mother’s heart surgery, lather, rinse, and repeat.
I’d tell you that I would take you away, and want nothing but to snuggle with you on the couch and watch late night vampire movies… but we both know that is a lie. You’d lie right back to me in the champagne room, and you’d tell me you are only doing this for one semester, and how you never thought you’d want to go home with a customer ‘cause you are not like that.
Then the bouncer would tell me I owe $250 for chatting with you all through “Pour Some Sugar on Me” and “Dream Weaver” while you sipped on a $25 soda disguised as a tropical drink. No, Kelly. I’m not falling for it.
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Friday Thoughts and Links
Rare shall we witness the unholy triumvirate of Douche Nipple Lick, Douche Hand Gesture, and Douche Kissy Lips all commingling in one overpriced Vegas shanty town.
Let us hope this image doth not pass before our eyeseth again.
No idea why I’m talking like I’m James Earl Jones’s flunky in Conan The Destroyer.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Book Pick of the Week: “Feeling extremely foolish, the acting representative of Homo Sapiens watched his First Contact stride away across the Raman Plain, totally indifferent.”
The woo hotties from Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World debate why hot chicks date douchebags (starts 1:30 in).
Sure most movies have larger budgets. Actors who can act. Sets. Sound design. Catering for the crew. But where other movies lack in heart, inspiration, creativity and 80s era Dungeons and Dragons memory, The One Warrior pwns them all.
The brilliant Louis C.K. busts some Oldbaggery.
Speaking of quality comedians, here’s the late, great Mitch Hedberg at the top of his form.
For those of you keeping up with the story of the douchebag with the monster truck who killed someone outside of a strip club (and you know who you are), here are the latest updates from this breaking story.
‘Nuff of that link stuff. Here’s your pear:
Chomp. Fondle. Chomp.
For the weekend is uponst. And Adonai looked upon it, and it was good.
Friday, April 29, 2011Ask DB1: Woo Hotts in Razorback Nation
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Greetings, DB1.
I recently made the move from douche epicenter Miami to the remote foothills of Fayetteville, Arkansas, where I aim to study the ancient pleasures of taught, barely-legal flesh.
My question stems from a problem inherent in Razorback nation.
A large part of the social life surrounding a small, secluded college town is sports allegiance, and a large part of showing one’s love for the Razorbacks is calling the Hogs.
One calls the hogs using an old war cry passed down from the nation’s founding fathers: “Woo, Pig! Soiee!” I’m sure you’ve already figured out from whence my conundrum stems. This makes every nubile female in the area a Woo-hottie.
Admittedly, the problem is merely an embarrassment of riches, for as King Douchuous has shown, all pretenses are cast aside when tiny-heinie is in striking distance. Or, as it says in the book of Doucherotomy, “Lo though I walk through the valley of the bag, I shall fear no autumn-scented vinegar dilution.”
I was hoping you might knight me, your subject, and strengthen me for my one-man war on bags so that I might scale Rapunzel’s enchanted thigh and bringing all that is holy back to my chambers for delousing.
I shall not fire until I see the whites of their tan lines,
Poppa’s Got a Brand New Bag
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Woo Hotties in small towns may cry “Woo!” for any number of reasons, as the Wannabe Gatorbag and his Woo Hotties pictured here can attest.
Nor is the Woo Hottie to be shunned. No not even when she utters the annoyingly shrill “Wooo!! Jager shots!!”
For whatever douchadox the Woo Hottie provides through her drunken mating call, the taut suckle thigh beckons. And potential savior status awaits a better tomorrow.
Friday, April 29, 2011Friday Haiku
Pumped Vegas Doucheclown ,
Fondles double shots of pear,
Future turds abound.
What’s it gonna take
For me to get you into
A used butt today?
— saulgoode42
Got one pear, two pear
Red pear, pooh pear. Now me need
To get protein drink and ‘roids.
— Wedgie
Here is an Abstain.
And while he may refrain from
voting, I vote Choad!
— Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifelt
Captain Ben Dover
inspects troops for proper hygiene.
Snorts off butt nuggets.
— Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche
Four round cheeks, one turd.
Somebody get me the Vim.
The bowl smells of Roids.
— The Reverend Chad Kroeger
Why is it he lord?
Who gets to fondle the pair?
I have camouflage?
— Claude Douchenbagger
Thursday, April 28, 2011Manny Grabassky
Manny’d only be a stage-1 Cholobag, or even earn a nottadouche, if he didn’t have a tatt of a naked woman, or maybe that’s Jesus with breasts, bound and gagged, on his left wrist.
Tattbaggery. No excuse.
Granted, the grabass move by Mr. Grabassky is probably an inevitable byproduct of expectations brought about by the meaning of his last name. Kind of like how Shelly Givesamazinghead has struggled her whole life.
But oh, sweet curvy Bikini Katie.
We needed some freckle taut red-head suckle thigh on this Thursday. And so we shall perceptually imbibe.
Thursday, April 28, 2011Remember Kids, Middle Fingers Are Autodouche
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Reader Mail: European Dancebaggery
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Subject: Euro douche/hott manifesto
Dear DB1,
I am a big Euro Dance music fan for years now and I came across this music video clip. For me it signifies the ultimate Euro-douche-II virus expanding in the European continent, carrying lots of hotts along with it.
This is pretty much how modern European youth looks like. It’s a shame isnt it?
Best & thanks again for your struggle against douches all over the planet,
-Douchifer
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It does exemplify the mutating eurovirus, Douchifer, but I am troubled by your prior history as a Euro Dance music fan.
Modern cultural historians generally classify European Dance Music by articulating two distinct historical periods, B.A. and A.A. (Before Abba and After Abba). And both are considered equally douchey.
Modern douche variations cannot contain the long, bleak history of eurobaggery in dance music.
Thursday, April 28, 2011Your Dad Wears Ripped Jeans
Now he’s just making “Parent/Teacher Party Night” downright awkward.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011Where’s Poindouchester?
Somewhere in this lineup of flexible suckle thigh woo giggles from the Dunder Mifflin office party, I’ve carefully hidden a Poindouchester.
Look closely.
Can you find his nerdy/douchey creepy/scary gender ambiguous and cat neutering paradoxical visage?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011Martin Expresses His Inner Child to Kelly
Of course, Martin’s inner child also shaves his chest, is orange, wears vests without shirts and Jesus bling, and has a scrotey fungal arm tatt.
Kelly wears the sexiest frilly diapers this side of Milan. And so I fondle her teddy bear and read her stories of scary wolves and crotch itch.
