Reader Mail: When HCwDB Readers Meet in the Real World
In honor of last night’s Hallow’s Eve, here’s the story of what happens when HCwDB readers meet in the “real world,” featuring long time ‘bag hunter Jacques Doucheteau and legendary horrormeister Baron Von Goolo.
Note: The HCwDB pic accompanying this post is not Baron Von Goolo, nor Jacques Doucheau. So far as you know.
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DB1,
Tonight I had the honor of meeting face-to-face with Baron Von Goolo. I took the Mrs. on a road trip to Portland to experience the haunted houses of Fright Town, and was fortunate enough to run into the Baron, as he is the curator of the event.
I saw him first as he was perusing the line of waiting customers, eying his victims like a hyena circling mortally wounded gazelles. I approached him as he walked by me and asked him if Plinky’s mom was part of the exhibit, at which point a pleasantly surprised expression crossed his face upon the realization that the universe found it necessary to draw two HCwDB regs together for a chance meeting. I introduced myself as he thrust his hand forward to meet mine, and he wished me an enjoyable evening, with a wink and a glint in his eye before I entered the Portland Memorial Colosseum Exhibit Hall for no less than three of the Pacific Northwest’s greatest haunted houses under one roof.
After an hour of thrills, scares, laughs, and all around good fun, I ran into the Baron again on the way out, at which point I expressed my thanks for a fine Halloween weekend in pastoral Portland, OR. He assured me that Plinky’s mom may be featured in next year’s Museum of Horrors, though it may require a forklift and a couple tons of putrid horse meat to coax her into the building. He was obviously busy, and mentioned it had been a long day, so I didn’t bother him further. For posterity I did insist on snapping a couple pictures before heading out, to which the Baron graciously obliged.
For your personal enjoyment, I give you a picture of the Baron Von Goolo and myself, both looking our sexiest. Or at least as dashing as a pair of gentlemen can be while surrounded by a thousand screaming teenagers in the humid basement of a sports area with a bunch of volunteers in makeup. I was not wearing a costume which I suppose compromises my precious anonymity, so now that you know what I really look like I must remind you: that with great power, comes great responsibility.
Happy Halloween to you and the rest of the regs.
-Jacques Doucheteau
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Happy post-Hallow’s Eve to all HCwDB readers, whether long time or recently arrived. There was no greater tribute to the pop-culture impact of HCwDB than Von Goolo’s 2008 Douchebags of the Living Dead.
That fucking Baron is really awful looking in that link, so is the guy on the left of the leather jacketed ghoul.
And I think you got the wrong link DB1.
Nice post and photo J.D. I hope I’m not reading about your demise in a driveby Donk-ing and time soon.
I hope you had fun in Portland. Did you ever figure out why they named their town after a kind of cement?
^any time soon.
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spellcheckers
What the hell? That’s not the picture I sent you DB1. That guy with BVG is frikin’ UUUUUUUgly.
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Please remove that pic immediately and post the actual picture of the Baron and I you received.
@ Jacques
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Y’know, the Plinky’s mom line was classic but just the mere fact that the photo-op proves bag hunters aren’t a bunch of fat asshole cocck strokers in our mom’s basement looking like this:
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… is worth the loss of anonymity. Don’t worry, I don’t think The Donk is going to jump on a plan and hunt you down.
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Besides, veteran hunters have seen you in a short film before haven’t we?
Nice Vin. Bringing my mom into this, are we?
Re: Jacques and BVG pic, I would allow both of you to buy me dinner where I would most likely spend my time admiring your packages and texting my friends about it. Its nice to see the baghunting community making connections in person. If I ever meet you Turtle Boy I’m sure it will be instant fireworks.
Thanks to Jacques (and BVG) for sharing the story and photo. But I wouldn’t have been the least bit upset if they had pulled some slutted-up teens in skimpy outfits into the frame.
frankly, I’m slightly offended that Jacques didn’t get his wife into the pic, knowing full well the importance we place on the HC part of the equation, but in actuality, that is pretty damn cool.
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Are we still organizing a bag hunter’s reunion in Vegas or are we all just waiting for the Guggenheim exhibit in 2026?
I have my own tip:
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“…..though it may require a forklift and a couple tons of putrid porch beef to coax her into the building.
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Other than that, it’s only a great thing for the world when baghunters come together. Now if I could just find Dicy…..
When you are done jacking each other off, let me tell you that this picture my son submitted is a FAKE. Once again he’s trying impress everyone and feel self important by sucking DB1’s schlong, but he’s really just a pathetic loser like his old man. (whoever that was. I don’t remember to be honest. Could have been one of those hundreds of mules I had sex with that week).
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To set the record straight, here’s a photo of my son, his wife, and me in better days. Before the recession hit and we had to cut back on pricey expenditures like food, clothes, and penicillin. Now poor Jacques is having to whore his ass out to residents of the Monstrous Knobby Wart Encrusted Dicked Psychopaths Halfway House for 30 cents a pegging.
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Poor boy. I understand his desire to be viewed as someone more praiseworthy that he actually is, but get real kid. You’re the son of a syphilitic mule and septic breath meth mom.
Then there’s when pregnant with Jacques. I don’t recall if I was that big because of how disturbingly huge Jacques’ fat ass was, or if I was horribly distended from all the mule jizm I’d been guzzling.
^^ Sweet Mary Tyler Moore
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Keep that pic in your personal spank bank, and out of my waking nightmares, will ya?
He did have very happy childhood, and NAMBLA was appreciative for all the volunteer work. He even went through a normal rebellious teenager phase.
Jacques’ mom is now bringing up all of my repressed childhood memories.
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Ya fuccen bitch(es).
Then he met a nice girl. They got married.
And had a child of their own.
^Uh, you’ll pardon the nit-picking, but they don’t appear to be the same girl.
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Editors.
I was so proud of him.
Vin,thanks for ruining my day.
Swarthy, long-faced with an aquiline profile. Just the way I like ’em. Now I can stop picturing that awful Emobama when I read JD’s comments.
I don’t know if I could handle meeting any of you fuccers in real life.
Dammit Vin I told you to never post that photo…
@Jacques Mom
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Funny nonsense son.
Bravo Jaqcues!
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If I were you, I would make sure my doors and windows were sealed well over the next few months. Once The Baron obtains a smell of your hemoglobin’s… well, there’s no sense in hiding the trail. Say no more.
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Silver steaks may work.
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And sunlight.
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Or encompass yourself with Twilight movies.
Funny stuff, Jacques Mom!!
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And my puny joke about needing facebook-like pic tagging to know who is who was already used hours ago.
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I got kin in Portland…
I see Jean Claude Van Damme’s little brother finally got a gig.
America, America, God done shed his grace on thee….
It was a charmingly surreal night, no question. I’m terribly happy to have met you and the lovely Mrs. Doucheteau. Not half as happy that pleats hide a chubby so well, though.