Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Hairpocalypse Now

I hate the smell of Vegas in the late afternoon.

It smells… like hair grease.

Ask DB1: Ed Hardy Quandry

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Oh wise one, we beseech thee with a question for the oracle of douchebaggery.

What say you DB1?
– Choad The Douche Sprocket
———

Hardywear = autodouche.

I don’t care if Mother Theresa and Jonas Salk had a kid who just cured jock itch using only chocolate HoHos massage techniques and a large vibrating eggg. If that child wears Ed Hardy, he must not pass.

There are no exceptions.

Well, maybe homeless children in Africa receiving rejected merchandise from America, who need to clothe themselves. M’Buke gets a nottadouche for wearing unsold 2006 Von Dutch shirts while scouring the garbage pile for aluminum foil. Other than that, autodouche.

Moped Mike May or May Not Be a Douche But Bikini Clara is Tasty

Moped Mike? Who gives a rats ass.

I would breakdance tai chi through a field of twitching mushrooms wearing only worn boxers and a hairnet and playing the orchestral version of a Nico harmony from early Velvet Underground using only a plastic comb and tapping spoons while sipping fermented grapefruit juice from a gimmick baseball cap can holder just for the chance to cup slap the brain addled aardvark that once upchucked on her cotton candy outside the Tea Cup ride at the 2004 summer carnival in Decatur, Illinois. And then I would tickle her underboob with an ostrich feather.

Crotch Johnson and the Sara Bikini Hotties Order Bottle Service

To some, a thousand dollars for a bottle of Grey Goose may seem excessive.

To Crotch Johnson, it’s an ethos.

The Sara Bikini Hotties are malnourished in all the right ways. And while a peanut butter and banana sandwich may aid their health, I pooch their underfed bellies with feral lickage and top it off with a cannoli from Veniero’s.

The Party Pirates Voted

That annoying couple at the party that dresses theatrically and probably lives in San Francisco just voted in the HCwDB of the Month. Have you voted yet?

Not that there’s anything wrong with most people in San Francisco. It’s one of my favorite cities.

But lets be honest. Performative Dressup Theatricalbag Party Pirates with fidoras? The Mission Street 2BR/2BA odds are at least 18%.

HCwDB of the Month

It may be the post July 4th-ish weekend, but that don’t mean the Mock stops. The Monthly is here. And it is important.

So stop that silly “work” thing. Put down all that you do. And get to votin’.

Your finalists:

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: Clifford the Big Red ‘Bag and Bethany and Brittney

Clifford may at first seem like this unholy crimson coelacanth of douchebaggery. You think, he has to be faking it.

But let it be clear.

The evidence does not show a Halloween party or any sort of costumic dress up on the part of the backround participants in the evening’s festivities.

Therefore we can conclude that this is not dressup, and is indeed, douche.

For logic dictates, and by dicktates I mean dicktaters, that no ironic dressup could possibly include shrunken nads inside of tight-ass jean shorts.

Clifford is pure douche essence. And deserved to be mocked accordingly.

Mmmm… tiny Bethany and Brittany.

How your lack of conversational skills is made up by your ability to do shots and “Woo” every time the D.J. plays Katy Perry. And Katy Perry sucks. But I pretend to like it and offer to buy you a Mai Tai.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: Mr. Hawk Doesn’t Deserve This and Hottie Heather

For sheer hotchickery, there may be no competition in this Monthly contest, for Hottie Heather delivers Mayan Eye of Coitus on a number of thematic, structural and esoteric levels.

We also can’t diminish the douchal power of the stupid Hawk.

For it is very stupid.

No less so than when combined with some strange ironic suit and tie wearage.

Lame.

Not to mention, Mr. Hawk and Hottie Heather, together, remind us of one of the most offensive HCwDB photos in the history of the site.

For all these factors, they must be considered in the Monthly for sheer toxic amplification that goes beyond the quantification of their ‘bag/hott substrata.

But enough to win the hallowed HCwDB of the Month? There’s two more finalists to go:

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: The Roastbeefer and the Nikita Twins

For pure overpriced bottle poppin’ noxious classic douchebaggery, is there anything more culturally destructive than shiny penis pants in presence of paid-to-party hot chicks like the Nikita Twins?

I think not.

And lets not forget a week later, when part two of The Roastbeefer’s beefing came our way.

Here’s one hoagie covered in the societal molds, spores and fungi’s of Egon’s hobby collection.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: Manos: The Pecs of Fate and Back Arch Marsha

Vegas spectacle rounds out our quite potent HCwDB of the Month, as Manos: The Pecs of Fate horrifies old ladies and cauterizes poodle nads without antiseptic.

Don’t forget the second part of our two-part drive-in extravaganza: Manos,The Pecs of Fate II: Ass Pear Reveal Thigh Grab.

Back Arch Marsh has all sorts of douchadox slutsappeal, and cannot be dismissed as potent H.C., regardless of trashiness.

But can they win the Weekly?

I honestly have no idea who’s going to win and earn a spot in our hallowed HCwDB of the Year in December.

So I need your vote. Which of these four couplings most (dis)embodies the spirit of Hottie/Douchey dialectics?

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.

üllar jörberg’s Mustache Says Happy July 4th!

C’mon!! Everyone do the Kutse Tantsule!!

Douchebag Makes Ironic Video Called “Douchebag,” Still a Douchebag

Calling others “douchebags” when you’re a heaping serving of douchebag does not inure you from indictment based on your own merits of douchebaggery.

So enjoy this mix of pop pretentious runny doggie poop squat as we relax and sip some Pibb on this July 4th Weekend.

Comment of the Week: Choad the Douche Sprocket

From back on Monday, in the Stay Tuft Marshmallow Man thread, longtime ‘bag slayer Choad The Douche Sprocket wins this week’s coveted HCwDB Comment of the Week:

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Have you ever consumed too much milk, vanilla milkshakes, white bread, and extra-sharp, non-carotene-colored, fine white, well-aged Vermont cheddar cheese throughout an entire day…perhaps whilst watching your boxed set of Masterpiece Theatre’s Upstairs-Downstairs episodes…and then had to take a dump approximately twelve hours later?

And BTW, she has a nice rack.
——

Friday Thoughts and Links

Your humble narrator finds himself wandering homeward. Backward through space and time. Back to the land of Stanley Cup champeens and really stupid accents.

Yup. My ass is in Boston.

Home of Mama DB1. And July 4th Weekend. So while I plan for a weekend of New Hampshirian relaxation, here’s your links:

Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Meteor shit!”

Odious and pathetic rodeo clown and jizzmaster of HCwDB wannabe “The Dirty,” the uberdouchey “Nik Ritchie” is peddling a hilarious book proposal. “Nik Ritchie is this decade’s Lenny Bruce” for the ballpunch. Ritchie’s wannabe celebrity crash-and-burn arc is as enjoyable as it is long overdue. Up next: Weblebrity Rehab.

This is not a workout. It’s a homoerotic revolution.

HCwDB legend Joey Porsche makes it into Cracked Magazine’s 7 Things Good Parents Do That Screw Kids Up for Life.

Quentin Tarantino likes to suck ladies’ feet while playing with himself. But you already knew that.

A Los Angeles scenester goes to Vegas and discovers A place of supposed anti-douche. A retro arcade club called “Insert Coins”.

The generational passing of the Grieco virus: From Mohrbag to Bieber.

The pathetic last days of Stackhouse the Poet: Stackhouse The Poet in “Wikipedia is a Fraud.” It’s just getting sad.

But you are not here to watch Stackhouse descend into parody, sullen moodiness and rapid aging, you are here for Pear:

First up, a little Accidental Helicopter Pear.

And if that’s not enough for your July 4th BBQ Weekend, hows about some Corona Pear.

Like two paid-to-pose loafs of Challah bread wrestling over the check.

Enjoy. For the Weekend is Uponst.