Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

HCwDB After Dark

There will be no free Pear for you from your humble narrator on this HCwDB After Dark.

For while the ‘Sock has rule of the kingdom when he is in charge, the DB1 feels Pear must be earned, and only rewarded after a week of solid Mock.

Instead, I offer you the rare “Douche Boobie Sip Maneuver.”

First referenced by early 20th Century phenomenologist Edmund Husserl in his Berlin lecture, “Phänomenologie und Boob Sip Doucheropologie,” Douche Sip has long haunted the collective zeitgeist.

So pull up a chair and mock.

For the Monthly is on. And your humble narrator is tipsy on Strawberry Boone’s.

Boob Stare Guy Voted in the Monthly

Have you voted yet?

HCwDB of the Month

Bring it.

Your humble narrator is back in action, and today is a big day. Today we select the winners of the HCwDB of the Month and next entrants in the hallowed HCwDB of the Year at the Douchie Awards in December.

Here’s your choices:

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: Pukey Bowie and Hott Jenn

This classic pairing of rocker wipestain and sexy giggle butt belly slappy pooch hotty hott harkons back to the halcyon days of HCwDB when we mocked Deathtongue and lusted Quartasian Mia Sara Hott.

Jenn is pure like snowflake, no one could ever stain.

The memory of her boobies will never cause me pain.

Yeah, I’m quoting the great Peter Wolf. Lead singer of master bar-room thespians, the J. Geils Band, and he who snagged ’70s Faye Dunaway Bonnie Hott.

But we am not here to talk about Peter Wolf shagging Faye Dunaway.

We are here to mock rocker choad like Pukey Bowie for all that is phoney and store-bought fraud in douche culture.

And determine our monthly coupling winner. And we got three more in the mix:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Buzzy Fails to Appreciate Marissa’s Taut Sundials

Buzzy is all that has gone toxic in American masculity in the age of the tribal tatt and hair grease.

Marissa is firm, taut suckle thigh, who may or may not be have been from some form of reality T.V. in the past.

But there is no reality T.V. at HCwDB.

There is only Cleavite.

And stupid Vegas choad.

Cohabiting. Wrongly.

I would spittake through a bad 1960s sitcom starring Don Knotts and Phyllis Diller just for the chance to vast her wastelands in an angry speech before Congress.

There is no doubt this coupling is beyond wrong and deserves our collective disdain.

But are they enough to win? Does hottie/douchey dialectic rise to Yearly levels?

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: Evil Bert and Dead Bin Laden

Okay, this is a strange one, but rules is rules. I gave this evil pairing of strange douchosity a Weekly Win, and so they’re in the Monthly.

Evil Bert is the Hot Chick of this equation, harkoning back to when you were four years old and got confused that Bert and Ernie shared a bedroom.

Bin Laden’s douchery needs no further elucidation. But when his ass went down, it deserved a Weekly enshrinement.

And so the Bert/Bin Laden HCwDB pairing makes the Monthly.

Enough to win? Who knows? That’s up to you. Stranger things have happened at HCwDB.

But there’s one more global terrorist on the list. And his name is Pumpin’head:

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: Peter Pumpin’Head and Mary Mammtastic

An erupture of pumped up uberschlort that occured on DarkSock’s watch, some have observed that the Peter and Mary Gospels were actually written back in 2010 when Peter appeared as Veg Armstrong.

Veg made another appearance with UberArm and Pauline.

But whether appearing in 2010 or not, this site is about highlighting the extremes that the male will go to to peacock for the hot chick. And Pumpin’head, even lacking the more obvious douche signifiers of Pukey Bowie, Buzzy or Bin Laden, is that inflatadouche.

The Pumpy-esque (R.I.P) run of Peter and Mary’s inflation and spectacle is epic.

Unfortunately due to over-Weeklying, I had to drop last week’s U.S Olympic Synchronized Nodding Team and Grecian Greta from the mix, but they didn’t stand a a chance against this competition anyway.

So I’m back, baby. But I need your help.

Which of these four couplings deserves the win/loss and our collective mock?

This site is nothin’ without you, so vote, as ever, in the comments thread.

Peter Pumpinhead and Mary Mamm Wish You a Happy and Pensive Memorial Day

Your humble narrator has officially returned.

Refreshed.

Revived.

Refried.

Poached and sunnyside up. Back from my spiritual quest through the West Andes, Uttar Pradesh, the Adirondacks and the second floor of Macy’s in search of new socks.

A noble and far reaching quest in which I meditated, ruminated and micturated on the subject of hottie/douchey transendentalgism.

But first I must pay homage to the legendary and superb work of the master ‘bagger who held down the fort in my absence, DarkSock.

As the site continues to grow, I hope more ‘bag hunters can join me on the mainpage and continue the fight to mock the choadscrote and lust their hottie’s suckle thigh.

Also major props to all regs who contributed posts in my absence. Your hilarious work helped push me on my journey and brought about spiritual enlightenment from the Rashi God Shard that came to me in my fever dreams and visionquest.

Tomorrow, the mock resumes full-speed.

For there are douches to be collectively ridiculed.

And boobies to be appreciated.

And therein the dialectics of Truth occur. At the cusp of the generative event horizon of phenomenological perception. Where the limitations and impermeability of cohesive language ends, the semiotics of images begin, and the Lacanian lack reflects Ourselves back to us, mediated and transformed as the Other becomes the Self. And the virtual mirror of primal perception returns archetypal truth once again.

Sometimes you slap the fish…and sometimes the fish slaps you

Well, my time behind the wheel here at HCwDB draws to an end. DoucheBag1 returns his firm and calloused hand to the helm; refreshed and wizened from his walkabout, like the Alpaca of Fate after catching that perfect wave.

What enlightenment will he bring forth from the misty crowns of the Andes and the ruins of Chichen Itza and Machu Picchu?

Specifically, has he learned any lessons about messin’ with them alpacas…?

We wait, DB1, with Bated Breath for you to share with us what you herd.

Because you have found the sacred truth:  That in each of us flows some alpaca blood.

We now rejoin DB1 in his journey: to learn, to discover, and most importantly…to mock them silly douche bastards.

And what of myself?  I too now feel a calling; a journey to enlightenment that will pull me away for some time; my own Walkabout.

I’ma Walkabout ten steps over to my wet bar and pour 3 fingers of my very fine 25 year old Rittenhouse Rye, splash a little Fiji Water into it, and enjoy. Because every journey begins with a step; however, like Reverend Chad, mine will end in 12 steps.

I’ll rejoin you all inside the Peanut Gallery tomorrow, where together we shall continue the Fight.

Pumpin’Head is a Vegetable

Alert Reader Insufficient Data For Meaningful Answer (idfma) notes that Pumpin’Head and his female companion have graced (greased?) the pages of HCwDB before – as none other than the June 2010 disturbance known as “Veg Armstrong”.

He’d make a great politician, because he never changes his position.

This guy’s building a large body of work.  Now if he’d also build a huge head of steam, he’d be more proportional.

He’s set to make a run at the monthly…and by “monthly” I mean “locked cabinet full of horse steroids”.

Bag/Nottabag? Advanced Alliteration Edition

Is Dapper Dan a Dirty Douche, Diddling Debutante Debbie, or Decidedly Devoid of Douchery?

And what of Tanned Tony with Tiny Tina?

Voice your Votes Vociferously, Valued Verbal Vigilantes!

How Stella Got Her Infection Back

Sexy Stella and her BFF Monique from Spanish Harlem thought they’d have their summer getaway in Vegas; a nice change of scenery.

And what’s waiting for them?  The Cuchifrito, on the prowl for las señoritas de mala compañía…better stay outa that cabana, Stella…

Y’know, I am getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu with this guy…it’s like I’ve seen him before….

Ohhhhh, that’s right…scroll down to the very bottom of this web page; there he is again!

PETER PUMPIN’HEAD AND MARY MAMMAGEDDON SAY: HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND!

Peter Pumpin’Head and the little Missus want to wish you all a happy Memorial Day weekend, since Baron Von Goolo failed to make mention of it in his FT&L  (The Baron is a transplant from the Old Country, after all, and is still catching up to our quaint New World customs).**

It is fitting that these two take us into the Memorial Day festivities, because just as the rituals and celebrations of the holiday remind us of why we as a nation must fight, these two self-tan-slathered raging ids remind us of why we ‘baghunters fight.

Look at them.

LOOK AT THEM.

I mean look at him and her, you perverts.

Self-worshiping peacockery pushed to a  hyperbolic extreme, both in taste, hue and physics.

The cost for freedom isn’t free; it’s a buck o’ five.

But throughout the ages, attention sponges such as these have gladly suffered mutilation in order to achieve the rest of society’s assumed collective envy and admiration, and that cost is even more than a buck o’ five. It is higher; much higher.  Much much higher.  But not as high as the cost of bottle service at the Rehab poolside cabanas.

**EDIT – OK, Baron did mention Memorial Day.  I just wanted an excuse to run this picture before my time’s up.  Damn you and your crafty ways, Medusa… -D.S.

Friday Thoughts and Links – Baron Von Goolo’s 94% Pure Evil Edition

All right, you neckbeards, How about a big hand for DarkSock; He works so hard, doesn’t he?

But all that pear posting has left his good arm spongy and unresponsive, so he has asked me, Baron Von Goolo, undisputed Master of Horror within the greater Portland metropolitan region, to step in and allow some of that lactic acid to drain. It’s not like I have anything better to do…oh wait, yes I do. Best get to it, shall we?

Your BVG DVD Pick of The Week: “Feels like you’ve got a real monster in there…”

The Creep is old news, but I didn’t have a soapbox to endorse it till now. Plus, four months later it’s still awesome.

Okay, okay, you got me. Seriously, Andy Samberg? As much as I love John Waters, that was pandering. So let me make it up to you by expanding your horizons with a little musical theater.

Mmmm. Culturey.

Re: Last Sunday’s CryptKeeper Pear, Wedgie asks an unanswered question: “One thing’s for sure: pear with a dead guy is still better than pear with a douchebag…New site?”
But are the great unwashed truly ready for Hot Chicks With Body Bags?

Last year’s recipient of the Von Goolo Foundation Grant for The Sciences (either Evil or Mad), Crucial Head, unveils this obscene abomination unfit for even unpolite company…THE HUMAN ALPACAPILLAR!!!

Not scared of my new Alpacapillar? Did I mention that it’s a suppository?

Less ‘horror’ than just ‘horrible,’ Memorial Day is the unofficial first day of summer and that means it’s time for us to be bored out of our skulls watching Hollywood torch the GNP of a small, third world nation on forgettable swill. If you’re half as disappointed as I am that Ryan Reynolds is going to be Green Lantern as opposed to, say, Nathan Fillion, here’s the good news: It could have been worse. A lot worse.

Not that Hollywood would know a great movie if it bit them on the ass. Or in this case, if it bit them on the ass and caused their fragile psyches to snap like toothpicks under the crushing realization that god is an octopus that doesn’t care for us hairless monkeys very much at all.

Is Vince the Slap Chop guy still relevant? I think so. Especially if you toss in a few quarts of gore and a bushel of gratuitous profanity. And there’s something about a Boston accent that makes the word “retards” even funnier.

They’re so cute when they’re asleep.

Just in time, Mr. White offers this palate cleanser of doe-eyed überhotness. Not that MAD MEN/Community sex-pixie Alison Brie is any stranger to horror. In 2008, she had a fleeting cameo in the indie horror flick, Parasomnia. The true horror is that now everyone knows that Alison Brie was in Parasomnia. BOOM! I just dropped a steaming three coiler on your Q rating, Alison Brie! Howya like me now? Maybe next time your fancy studio lawyer will remember to include the Interwebz on the restraining order. Oh yeah, he will.

Just in case Halloween is cancelled this year, you’re all invited to the party at my place on October 21st. Plenty of YooHoo and no reason to clean up. That’s a win win, behbeh.

And since you poor, deprived chuds have gone without pear for, geez, the best part of ten minutes now, here’s this week’s official perfect bottom.

Tentacle Pear.

Spank it like it spilled grape juice on the white sofa.