Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Douchebag Anthem

Of the many, many satirical douchebag videos “inspired” by HCwDB that have passed through YouTube over the years, beating the joke into the ground like Nanook hunting for seals, this is one of the better ones, if far too long. Props for the Perez dig.

HCwDB Comment of the Week: Ich verstehe sie ist heiß

Newbie comments thread participant (or are they?) Ich verstehe sie ist heiß wins the coveted HCwDB Comment of the Week with this snarky quip in yesterday’s tattoo discussion thread:

——
Nothing says “I am expressing my individuality, my creativity, and uniqueness” quite like walking into one of the 10,000 tattoo shops downtown, choosing design #31417 from the book on the counter, and having an Air Conditioning & Heating school dropout inject your skin with ink and hepatitis C.
——

Arcerbic and slicing, nicely played, Mr. Heiß.

Friday Thoughts and Links

Remember that game you always wanted to play with a girl in 8th grade but never have the courage to actually try on? You know, “Tune in Tokyo”?

Yup.

This is the douchal version of that game.

But it’s nice to see Jonathan Silverman and Sarah Jessica Parker found work back in the 80s. And I’m referring to the photo, not the linked clip.

As to our hallowed Hall of Hott, it was a tough crowd and a split vote, with only the lovely Arielle gaining entrance. Sorry ladies. Maybe next time.

Here’s your links:

Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “You know, I could lay a big line on you and we could do a lot of role-playing, but the simple truth is, is that I find you very interesting and I’d really like to make love to you.”

Donkey Douche: Still in Jail. Eye Color still “BRO”

Speaking of bros, Bro seeks Bros for Manhood Camping. Possibly to oil up each other pecs and then grind to Right Said Fred. No homo.

And speaking of bros seeking bros, HCwDB legend Cro ‘Bagnon needs a date. “Eggs whites, Protein shakes, Jack Daniels” ladies. C’mon now, can you resist?

Russian Girls want to date you, yes?

Yet more from the Rebecca Black school of untalented viral despiration: Some Annoying Chick Raps

Best Cry Ever. Finally, a use for autotune.

Texas Scrotesackery: The Hillbilly Music Video.

Summer’s Eve new ad campaign involves talking vagina hands.

Speaking of T.V. ads, let us never forget far and away the greatest ad of the past twenty years: “You tell ’em, Johnny! You tell the world.”

Nicholas Cage’s son is something something.

Remember Swatches in the 80s? Today’s kids’ watches are far more scroatier.

Holy Mackeral! It’s:

Fishing Boat Pear.

A bit meaty for your Friday, perhaps. But well inspiring as we sail onward until dawn.

EDIT: For those objecting to the real world meaty meat fishing pear, your cries for more Pear have been heard. Enjoy:

Modernist Walkway Pear.

It’s Gehry by way of Crumb.

Are Tatts Inherently Douchey? The Debate Continues

Fired up by Wednesday’s discussion of whether sleeve tatts are autodouche, an exellent Talmudic debate engaging higher scrotological metaphysical considerations, I thought I’d post Andy and Andrea.

Andrea, of course, is standard issue midwest hard-ass and slightly terrifying wafer milf. An annoying accent and probably terrible in bed, but of the ladies who participate in the Church of the Slutty Mary’s annual bakesale, she’s the way hottest of the bunch.

But Andy?

Andy’s not so much a douche at all. Except for some undies poke, which may be incidental, he really doesn’t deserve mock. That being said, tribal shoulder tatt does equal douche. So is Andy a ‘bag?

Of the pics that I post on HCwDB, I reject dozens a day, and many of them are average bro/shmoes like Andy. So I’m still forced to conclude that most tatts, with the exception of annoying tribal inscriptions and Mayan and Chinese lettering and symbols on people who are neither Mayan nor Chinese (Mayan Eye of Coitus exempted), are not, in and of themselves auto-‘bag markers.

But, as with pigeons and poo, tatts are far more likely to be found hanging in the area of major scrotological behaviors.

So lets mark tatts as warning signs. They might not mark douche on their own. But they’re a likely entrance drug to a larger choadal world.

With a significant caveat: There is a growing catalog of tatts that do, in fact, mark autodouche simply based on the garishness and stupidity of their existence.

Friday Haiku

His pink dong-sling-bling:
So horrific, his asshole
Flees to beige hut’s wall

Doug’s feeling clever;
Stashed keys, phones & her tampons
Inside his foreskin!

Tube socks in g-string
don’t make up for your bird chest
and leathery skin

— idfma

Takes a lot of crew
Behind the scenes to film a
Bang Bus episode

— Vin Douchal

She likes it in thick.
He thinks she’s too loose. Fleshlight
In pants solves problem.

— The Reverend Chad Kroeger

Gorgeous Nicole Let Her Defenses Down for a Second, and D.J. Suckacrack Was There

In an instant.

For vile and rancid cheek lickage was what D.J. Suckacrack did. Since the Weddings and Bar Mitzvahs circuit had stopped hiring his mediocre skillset.

And somewhere above the hills of Gallelei, the Twin Gods of Thunder (Quet’zota and Joe) gnashed their teeth and sent a monsoon to wipe out a village in southern Africa as retribution for the sins of the human race.

The Broctopus Is Still Checking His Abs

Yeah, I know.

You thought by now The Broctopus and Melinda would’ve at least gone out to the parking lot so he could show her the tricked out Ford Fusion he’s leasing and like not with his mom’s Amex Card even though that’s what Melinda heard from her friend Allie.

Nope.

Still checkin’ the abs.

Only this time he’s smart and all, what with the glasses.

While all poor Asian Kevin wants to do is order a Corona Light.

Juan’s July Fourth Cookout Was Better Than Yours

As Juan might say, “Challo! When not playing in my tribute band to short lived 90s sensation ‘Sublime,’ I like to wear beads and woo the ladies of Cal. State Northridge with my chinny chinn fung. Thanks for stopping by! Can I get you a Fresca?”

No, thank you, Juan. I will, however, awkwardly talk to Suzanne on the left by the BBQ and pretend that yes, I did totally love the Twilight series. And Lisbeth Salander is totally like my hero, too. Until she catches me drooling on her half eaten hamburger, and then excuses herself to go get some watermelon.

Not Cool

Just for the record.

Exotic Dancer Lacey really wishes she didn’t drop out of High School to tour with the Dave Matthews Band back in 1998.

HCwDB After Dark

C’mon in!! It’s HCwDB After Dark!!

Grab an air-beanbag and pull up a seat by the Grecian fire pit.

Would you like a mint julep? I made them myself from real mint juleps.

Try one of the crab cake pastry puffs. It’s a family recipe. We call them “Crab Cake Pastry Puffs.”

Mmmm… good, right?

It’s After Hours Fleur de Lis time. Whatever you desire.

Where we mix our postmodern filmic references like so many late night Tarantino post toe suckle hallucinations.

But the ‘Slap Donkey Douche is still out there.

Still posing for pics.

Fighting the Douche Fight so the rest of us can mock onward until dawn…

EDIT: I’m so drunk on my own Juleps, mixed up my Hall of Scroters for a minute there.