Hot Chicks With Douche Bags
PICTURES OF HOT CHICKS WITH TOTAL AND COMPLETE DOUCHEBAGS. WITH COMMENTARY.
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Hall of Mock
- Pfah
- DarkSock
- Baron Von Goolo
- Troy Tempest
- Steve L
- Wheezer
- Medusa Oblongata
- creature
- Crucial Head
- Mr. White
- Archidoucheis
- Mr. Biggs
- Vin Douchal
- Sergeant Scrote Stain
- boatbutter
- Captain Bringdown
- Whoop-di-douche
- Jacques Doucheteau
- massengill
- Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche
- Mr. Scrotato Head
- Deltus
- The Reverend Chad Kroeger
- mr.reeve
- Wedgie
- Et Tu Douche?
- Eliza Douchcoo
- dbBen
- soy bomb
- DoucheyWallnuts
- I R A Darth Aggie
- jonezy
- Hermit
- Chris in ‘Baghdad
- Douchble Helix
- the douche is alright
- Choad the Douche Sprocket
- Stephanie
- The Dude
- Dude McCrudeshoes
- Sir David Douchenborough
- Il Douché
- Bag A
- douche equis
- Capt. James T. Douche
- Charles Nelson Douchely
- THEONETRUEDOUCHE
- Merle Baggard
- ehcuodouche
- Franklyn DealorNo Doucheifelt
- Charles Douchewin
- FredN.
- Ol' Dirty Douchebag
- In memoriam: bcs
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Gotta love Sunday Pear, Argentinian Pera es muy delicioso and by muy delicioso I mean scrumtrulescent.
That there is some bleethy goodness.
Sock knows how to do an Easter Sunday up right. Double servings of ham. I hope everyone else finds their huevos today. Hint: At one time they were in my mouth.
Thank goodness that first link was not Peter Pumpin’head! My eyes were saved by the absolution and resurrection and something-something of the pear, and for that I am grateful.
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Now for some more bunny tail.
The guy in this picture is a total douche. No doubt. But HOLY FUCK that chick is like UberBleeth. She’s like totally artificial. Fake hair, fake rack, fake teeth, fake eyelashes, Christ on a bike, she’s working SO HARD to be SO FAKE. I feel like a part of my soul died just looking at her. In all of douche-dom the guy rates about a 6.5 – 7. But this chick is like an 11 on a 10 scale in the world of Bleethiness. Seriously, she make Yasmine look like an amateur.
bunnaes! Fake blondes! It’s a Bleethster Egg hunt!
I hope to find a follow up photo of the douchebag in 2072, on the coroner’s table, besmirched with liver spots and lesions and hairy moles to the point where you can’t quite make out the “SEXIER” tattoo.
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Not because I loathe him that much, but because it means I’ll be 95 years old, alive, and still making fun of silly assholes as a hobby.
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Silly assholes, I says.
Dear Douchey,
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Although my Lord and Saviour JC gave his life for all of the world’s peoples ( and y’all get a chance to repent before the end of days, so have at her whatever you’re doing be you Jew, Gentile, or mooslum or them chinky religions with the lizards and shit or a lesbian athiest) I hate Easter. Passover’s cool, we tell stories and eat food free from chametz and filled with schmaltz and get drunk on newer Kosher vintages from the homeland. But on fucking Easter I have to see me nine year old daughter stuff her fat little champion swimmer face with quality and foreign-made sweets the chubby little fuck, and see my bloated pre-teen days repeated. Not knowing if she will grow out of it or starve herself and lift weights as I did to become the cool dude I was. I hate the idea of sending her to fat camp, but I can’t take it upon myself to bitch slap her into an eating disorder.
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Douchey what can I do? And I wasn’t watching the ten commandments last night. I wrote the fucking movie. Fuck you DeMille!
^Doucheywallnuts I mean. Son. N’mean.
I peed in a bunny once
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someone hadta say it
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DSock 95 in 2072? I thought architects had to do proper math
There’s more bleach in the Bleeth’s hair than in aisle 7 down at the Shop ‘n’ Save.
now that is what you call a white man’s overbite.
he courriered me my breakfast this morning. its hard out there for a bicycle boy.
pronators
Claudette’s panties are made out of yarn. And I support that decision.
Fucking MLB package. We get a good out of town game Sox v Tigers and get stuck with the shitty Tigers’ announcers. These guys make watching paint dry look like a contact sport. So fuccen boring.
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Of course that opinion may be tainted by the fact that I’d pay money to watch Orsillo and Remy read the Natick phone book…
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O’Brien, Andrew
O’Brien, Ansel
O’Brien, Arthur
O’Brien, Astrid
O’Brien…. say Jerry, did you try the lobster roll when you were at that Cataumet Yacht Club charity golf tourney?
I choked on an Oyster cracker , Don, hyuckhyuck hyuck
Hyuck, Jerry, Hyuck Hyuck Hyuck hyuck, let’s go to Jenny…
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…mmmm Jenny
I’d butter her lobster roll
bunny hoppin”
RC
My advice is to berate your daughter in front of company regarding her gluttonous behavior. Have you ever seen a fat swimming champion or corpulent successful gymnast? Eating disorders come and go, but champions live forever, even if they are anorexic. Plus fat is a killer. Am I right when I say that?
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She probably already has daddy issues so don’t let her blow her chance at greatness by turning into a pre-pubescent fatso. Ya mean?
Ya know, dey invented hott sportscaster chicks in BAHHSTAHN.
@Rev, Nancy Dreuche here, yeah, I echo DW’s sentiments. Your girls are already pretty much fucked with you as their Dad so getting them on an exercise program or really involved in some team sports should hopefully give them some confidence and positive role models their missing out on at home. No offense.
I’d be more then willing to glaze any of these chicks Ham’s with my secret sauce.
Pay the extra $20 for the other set of announcers.
“Happy Keister” is more like it.
Good idea – tattoo an club advertisement on your ribcage.
Shit, I meant *they’re* missing out on at home, in my above post. Fucking spelling. Seriously though, even with that error you were still able to piece together that the Rev is a pretty shitty Dad by general standards, right? I mean, the Jackson 5 had it better.
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Just beat it.
Wait a minute – can we scroll back up to Sportscaster Jenny? I want the comments thread to land there by default.
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Yes.
I didn’t mean to say that RC is a bad dad, just that girls are fucked up these days from watching all the TV and getting the negative images from the media that teach them to hate their parents, especially the dad, since white men are the cause of all of society’s problems.
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That being said, I hate Easter too, with all the pretense of being religious and pious and all that from the holier than thou sister-in law who loves to hear herself talk. “Ooh we went to church to impress an imaginary God so that we can feel superior to you despite the fact that I rub up against you at every chance I get and stare at your junk while my husband is asleep on the couch and looks 20 years older than I like to fuck.” And the food sucks too, Ham, green veggies that have been cooked til gray, bad roasted chicken. Oofa.
There is no God. See how easy that makes things?
I never wanted to be a dad, that’s why I shoot my seed out into the air.
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Some of those seeds of life may reach orbit, depending on a variety of circumstances. While I’m pretty sure I don’t have any earthly spawn, I may, thanks to the diligent work of the Wicked Video people, be father of ~ Who Knows What? ~ on the Saturnian moon Enceladus apporximately 7.6 years after last year’s premiere of “Dirty Talking Bitch Gives a Wicked Handjob”
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Where is she?
Are you shitting me? The guy that dresses up like Dracula is the only guy here that takes Easter even a little seriously?
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WOO-HOO! Hurtling towards half a century and I’m still an anachronistic paradox! Suck it, you pinks!
So, Baron, did he see his shadow?
I see that the New England Sports Network has the quality sports caster thing nailed down. Take it away Jenny, indeed!
The blonde Cassie Courtland ?