Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Reader Mail: HCwDB Needs New Pics

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DB1,

– Marti-

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First off, I’m lazy as a Codine’d koala. Secondly, I’m busy scratching my nethers in a furious up and down motion. HCwDB has always relied on the generous submissions of its readers. I’m only as good as what comes in the ole’ in box. So you don’t like the latest submits? Get to huntin’.

Mister Pfister is Stoic In Front of Kelly and Ashley

And it’s one more night in rural Arkansas…

One more night of hat tilt, stupid face, paid-to-pose bored hotts, and the circulation of small sums of money in the vain pursuit of distraction.

One more night in which mediocre lives replace unrealistic life dreams with hi-def televisions and self medicating variations of alcohol.

Wow. Way too downer to start off a Tuesday. I need me some Champagne Candy.

HCwDB of the Month

Bring it. Long overdue. Make it count.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #1: Mickey the Polyp and Savannah

Hair grease.

It smells like oyster.

And by oyster I mean rotting fish carcass.

Not butt starfish euphemism.

I have no idea what butt starfish euphemism means.

But if I start a thrash punk dubstep emo acoustic jam band, it will be called “Butt Starfish Euphemism.”

Mickey The Polyp shames Savannah’s ancestors, and so our first finalist in the Monthly is toxic.

And boobs. Glorious, glorious grooooooo.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #2: The Lickwipe and Sexy Poochtickle Trina

Stupidface and shiny forehead deserve ubermock.

Mmmm…

Poochtickle Trina.

A taut bubble of slappy spank six dollar rutti tutti breafkast fresh coffee bacon and pancake syrupy caloric gnaw.

Mmmm….

Bodices.

Don’t think of them as 19th Century repressive examples of patriarchy.

Think of them as side-boob pancake makers.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #3: Sleepy Jerkenstein and Cindy

The pure tattoorific punchface asshattery of Sleepy Jerkenstein is enough to punch a honeybadger in the nadsack.

Cindy has the pure face and angelic smile of nostalgic recall.

When you’re lying on your deathbed, you think you’ll be thinking about your family? Your kids? Your career? Your parents?

Hells no.

You’ll be thinking about Cindy.

And lets not forget Innocence and Poo Face. Not every day a monthly candidate also make it into an HCwDB at the Guggenheim piece of art.

HCwDB of the Month Finalist #4: Enrique and Paid-to-Pose Tammy

Awarded by the glorious ‘Sock, this asshattery and paid-to-pose Asian Hottness is all sorts of toxic in Dubuque.

See-though douche shirt and idiotic red hat are a fairly unique and highly mockworthy combo around these parts.

Tammy changed her name from Shin-Huen after arriving from Hong Kong. As such, she is to be appreciated for the display of viable womb in service of taking money from doucheclowns such as Enrique.

But do they have what it takes to win (lose) the HCwDB of the Month?

Now it’s your turn.

Tell me which of these four couplings deserve to take the prize.

Vote, as ever, in the comments thread.

A Mouthful of Gold in a Douchebag of Suck

There is no hope.

Comment of the Week: JeanClaudeVanDouche

From the Hitler Chin thread comes this classic paean to the suckle thigh from JeanClaudeVanDouche, who wins the coveted Comment of the Week:

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I would dance the Macarena in a barbwire thong to “Mr. Babalu” in a ballroom full of Los Zetas while whistling “Dixie” for the scant opportunity to catch a passing whiff emanating from the jeans once worn by pretty next door hotts former gardener Manuel, who held the door open for her on a particularly sunny day in California and she lightly accidentally brushed up against his thigh with her purse. Which incidentally smells of alligator and cherry blossoms.

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Friday Thoughts and Links

I ponder the explosion of masculine faux-piddle across this once great Nation on this Friday.

Tatts of Smellyass continue to breed like douchebunny.

Hair remains stupid.

The irony has increased, but the Grieco Virus remains.

And of the qualities and relative merits of the Semitic Boobie Hottie Suckle Thigh, I can only cry “Hosanna!” And self-flagellate with an onion.

Los Angeles has been rainy. And your humble narrator has been hard at work on new projects. Doors open. Others close.

The circle of life in the city of sushi and stupid.

Here’s your links:

Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Ain’t no rats, you can be sure of that.”

Beware… the homosexuals! Or, as the G.O.P. likes to call it, a 2012 election campaign ad.

The 25 Douchiest Bars in Los Angeles. Should’ve been twenty-six. And Barney’s Beanery should absolutely not be on that list. For shame. Legacy Exemption.

Worst Album Covers of All Time. “All My Friends are Dead” by Freddy Cage for the win.

Britain’s “The Daily Mail” steals a bunch of HCwDB pics for a comedy bit on tanning, doesn’t give HCwDB any credits or link-backs. Yeah, yeah, I know I bitch too much.

If you’ve ever desired to see Peter Pumpin’head in video form teach you how to work out, now’s your chance. No sign of Mary Mammageddon. Thank Tebus.

The Gator would like to sell your some supplements.

The reason your parents are entirely insane.

But you are not here for underlying psychosis of the 1960s. You are here for Pear.

Swedberg Selfportrait Pear

A followup to our Playboy Douche Dater offers quality suckle chomp on this Friday aft’.

Is "The North Face" Clothing Inspiring a Return to 2006-level Doucheyness?

Stephen writes in with the eagle-eyed alert:

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DB1,

– Stephen

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Good catch, Stephen. The Grieco Virus mutates in horrifying ways. This appears to be one of them.

Burn the label with butane, and don’t look back.

Friday Haiku

Douchie McDingle

Tongue-tickles Todd’s right lobe plug

Through Kat’s empty skull

Brain sucking douchebags

Horror film or comedy?

Kat says it tickles

— ehcuodouche

Hey gramma, here’s a

pic of my new girlfriend and

her boyfriend. Love, Todd

— Nancy Dreuche

Wait a minute…..huh?

I’m trying to read her shirt;

does it say “FAGAOTH”?

— Wheezer

Vacuous cavern

McDingle yodels Swizz Beatz

Black suit hears ocean

— Vin Douchal

Hitler Chin

Still out there.

Still writing Mein Scrupf.

An Entire World of Flush

The douchal signifiers of this stenchy Jackalope and Bleethy Hott Nichole smell like Calcutta in August.

I’m talking flies, rotting dog, and a discarded mound of backwash restaurant trash.

Even the enhanced Cleavite on Bleethy Hott Nichole is not enough to soothe my troubled psyche as it faces a Camus novel worth of taint.