Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

The Garglebag and Nadia Ruminate on Heidegger

Here’s pic #3 of this waste of generational educational purpose, as the Gargs and Nadia build their case for the next Monthly.

Bro Flex and Flexette Approve of the HCwDB of the Week

They give it two intertextual meta-ironic fist pumps up.

HCwDB of the Week: The Garglebag and Nadia

I originally used this pic only as the link-reveal for the truth of Garglebag’s douchey wretchitude, and Nadia’s enhanced gnaw cleavite. but we’ll mark it the winning (losing) pic.

Since it makes hamsters molt and vomit.

Nadia may not be A-level facial hott, but for offering epic G.S.R. (Groin Shave Reveal), and the softest of pooch bellies, she’s all good.

Also, Garglebag and Nadia appear to be a real couple, and therefore this hottie/douchey violation trumped some pretty rank douchitude, including Creepy Granpa Jaundy and Sweet Patricia, Twelve Pound Watch Pud, and Superherpster.

Last week also offered A-level kettle corn superhotts like Suckle Tatt-Free Sharona, Bright Eyes Bonnie and Giggling Lana.

But festering choad and/or suckle hott not in harmonic balance is not enough to win. Garglebag and Nadia bring stupid head, chin fung and tasty Aryan hottness in combo.

And so they earn slot #2 in our last HCwDB of the Month before the 2011 Douchies.

And so your humble narrator makes some instant oatmeal. To get all healthy up in this shizz.

Reason #34 Why Killing Yourself May Be a Viable Response to Contemporary Culture

Exiting this world rather than continuing to contemplate this pic’s existence as evidentiary proof of Godless nihilism is, when you think about it, a perfectly rational response.

No, I’m not serious, little Timmy reading HCwDB on his Dad’s computer. Put down the rat poison. I’m sorry Billy gives you nuggies on the playground. It’s sure to get better. Well, probably not. But hey, Lucky Charms is on sale at Ralphs.

Too depressing?

I’m gonna go eat a Cinnebon.

Random Guy Takes The Fist Pump Back

Here’s what too much time in between semesters at Columbia University can produce.

The Douchies Begin December 5th

Be there. Or be this guy.

For those who’ve volunteered for this noble service, I salute you.

If you see your name below, you’re in charge of giving out that Douchie Award.

Write up a 2-3 paragraph summary of why the award is deserving, and email to your humble narrator by December 1st, along with 3-4 links to your runners-up.

Douchiest Douche-Face — Douchey Wallnuts
Most Annoying Rockerbag — CB Popped
Comment of the Year — Wheezer
Quartasians and Trannys — Douchble Helix
Douchiest Hand Gesture — tall guy
The John Largeman — Et Tu Douche?
Douchiest ‘Bag Who May Be a Lesbian In Drag — Wedgie
Most Trashcan to the Head Worthy — Medusa Oblongata
Douchiest Creature From Ancient Greek Myth — Jacques Doucheteau
The Douchebaguette — Mr. Scrotato Head
Most Euro Eurobags — Reverend Chad Kroeger
Smells Like Poo — Creature
‘Celebrity’ HCwDB Couple of the Year — Vin Douchal
Most Annoying ‘Bagling — Nancy Dreusche
The Ricky — Mr. White
Hottest Librarian Hott — The Dude
Greatest Crisis of Modernity — Hermit
Douchiest ‘Athlete’ — Bob McAdouche
Hottest Girl Next Door Hott — Douche Equis
Clearest Proof of Natural Selection — DarkSock
Most Expensive First Date Hott — Dr. Bunsen HoneyDouche
The Yellowtail (Oldbag) — Mandouchian Candidate
Douchiest ‘Bag Trend — Mr. Scrotato Head
Greasiest Grease Stain — MusicFanatic
Douchiest Hair — dbBen
Douchiest Facial Fung — Douche Springsteen

Still to be claimed if ya wanna participate (just claim it in this comments thread):

—-

I’ll, of course, be handing out the rest.

A grateful nation salutes you.

And props to scholar and learned thespian Medusa Oblongata for designing our 2011 trophy. The 2011 Douchies be on. They most certainly be on.

EDIT: Updated the list.

Friday Thoughts and Links

Six pound watch? Not for Vinny Bologna here. The only thing that impresses curvy, slightly scary eyes, crazy Nordic Aryan blondes is, of course, twelve pound watch.

And rolled up Don Johnson 80s-style suits.

Deep thoughts from your half-drunk humble narrator, who sits in Los Angeles and pees on the epic dysfunction of this silly city of dreams.

Here’s your links:

Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “This is our monthly ‘At Ease’ weekend. It gives us a chance to let our hair down, although I see you’ve got a head start in that department! I shouldn’t talk, though, I’m getting a little shaggy myself. I’d better not stand too close to you, people might think I’m part of the band. I’m joking, of course.”

Speaking of Toronto’s odious Kleenex Mafia party promoters, apparently the line between douchebags, partying, and gang slayings is not as wide as we thought.

In overseas douche mocking, A British Rugby team, The Ospreys, have banned spray tanning and cheesy boots for its players. Well done, old chaps!

Ever wonder what it’s really like working in Hollywood? This clip pretty much sums it up.

HCwDB regular Reverend Chad Kroeger brings the Halloween Douche. Genius work, good Reverend!

R.I.P. Smoot. No not that Smoot. The cool one.

Meanwhile, in Boston, another piece of my childhood dies.

I’m not sure how I missed this until now, but back in 2007 a douchebag gave his tattoo breast implants. A few months later, his tattoo dated Charlie Sheen.

The hallowed University of Chicago, home to one of the great intellectually fraudulent movements of our time (Leo Strauss and “The Chicago School,” aka “modernist thinking is scary and hard, lets reject it!”), is now offering a course on Snooki. My contribution to academia is noteworthy.

Speaking of Leo Strauss and anti-intellectual regressivism masquerading as a one-size-fits-all philosophy, here’s women eating bananas.

But you are not here for Leo Strauss, nor women eating bananas, although more likely you are here for the latter. But you are definitely here for Pear:

Lacey Corn Pear.

Go forth und repentenzspiel.

An Open Letter to Giggling Lana

Dear Giggling Lana,

Your coy hint of huckleberry perfume and melodious lilt to your heaving bosoms upon hearing a knock knock joke entice me to your rose pedals like a honey bee to, uhm, rose pedals.

I wouldst not judge you for dating Oily Russian Bohunks with creepy mannequin rouge upon their cheeks.

For yours is the tautness of summer spring bed bouncing childhood innocence wrought through early hormonal onslaught and flowering in perfect adulthood butt paddle.

Marry me. And then divorce me.

Sincerely,
DB1

Friday Haiku

Ladies Love Larry;
His shirt emblazoned with his taint,
Balls a’dangling!

A study in poor taste
his shirt and the girls’ outfits
‘Hookers with Stupid’

— idfma

triangle of poon
T-shirt of unholy taint
chlamydia burns

— SonnyChibaChoad

So Anne Coulter, Rick
Sanchez and Dana Perino
Walk into a bar…

— The Reverend Chad Kroeger

For him, Viagra
For them, some Estrogen pills
Welcome to the Pharm.

— Wedgie

Forty Somethings;
Fake tits and stool softener
Occupy Vegas!

— Mandouchian Candidate

“look inside my chest,
there lies the beating heart of
a hermaphrodite”

— creature

The bleeths are so old
They were Sinatra groupies
Douchie, douchie, doo

— Doucheywallnuts

Friday Haiku sucks
Only regs haikus posted
Darksock has nepos

— lurker_douche

I pick funny ones
To adorn the front page, dude.
You’re the exception.

Breaking: The Kleenexer Turns Into a Rotting Pumpkin

Toronto’s infamous source of Canadian Douche Plague, The Kleenex Mafia, has gone from pale white douchebag hitting on A-List Canadian Hotts to this aging, rotting orange corpse of pumpkin.

Woe Canada.

Woe Canada, indeed.