Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Friday Thoughts and Links

When Champagne Katie plays poker with low-rent Andy Garciabag, the moon is in the seventh house music, and Jupiter aligns with Bruno Mars, then you will know that Friday Thoughts and Links are here.

Doing some site upgrades this week, including adding a personal rant blog for your humble narrator to vent on things not directly related to hottie/douchey dialectics.

Am otherwise plodding along with my strange Hollywood career, while peep-lusting at the Hollywood Yoga Hotts through giant yoga windows on Venture from betweenst ferns and gullys.

Yoga. Where privileged white people go to perform Zen masquerade for others as a spiritual band-aid covering profound and existential lack.

Here’s your links:

Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “When you got an all-out prizefight, you wait until the fight is over, one guy is left standing. And that’s how you know who won. “

Some scrotebaggy writer defends Pretentious Herspter Foodie Douchebaggery. Uses the word “artisanal” many times. Fails.

Samantha Bee and the great Daily Show report on Douche Fever in Wisconsin.

Many items from the pop culture dustbin known as the 1980s have aged into moldy gouda. But Peter Gabriel’s Biko remains as potent, and as brilliant, as ever. One of the greatest songs ever written.

“That’s a clown question, bro.”

The most important academic competition in Europe since Hoyle didn’t share Fowler’s Nobel Prize for Physics in 1983: Best Pear of Holland. Mmm… Nordic, Aryan, Ubermenschen Pear.

An eagle-eyed reader caught this news headline about an Axe Bodyspray Thief. Closeup of the Thief: What you think.

Remember that Asian Hott and Uberdouchey Rocker Shitestain who were famous or something? Yeah, me neither. They broke up.

Skinny Girl Cocktails. Teaching Hot Chicks to “Wooo!” with primal mating call. Which would be good, if not for douchal attraction.

But you are not here for cocktails. You are here for Pear.

1980s Pleather Office Furniture Pear

Pear is tactile. Pear is true.

Ask DB1: Adrien Brody's Herpsterism

———–

I bid you a good afternoon, DB1.

Douche Springsteen

—————

Brody is autobag. The statute of limitations for Rockstar Leniency given his Academy Award in Polanski’s “The Pianist” has expired. “Predators” negates all thespian leniency.

Herpster.

Friday Haiku

Screams rend the sea air;

Jon pulled away; his nipple

Stayed with Urchin Bra.

Ladyboy of the

Sea trolls the docks for new ports

For sea cucumber.

— Capt. James T. Douche

Motorboat spiked boobs

Result: bad head injury

Jon will try again

— saulgoode42

King Henry of Jaune

Crossed the lake on a jet ski to

Feel the rasp of boob.

— The Reverend Chad Kroeger

Mandana tilt guy

Swigs sunscreen rubs on vodka

Bros, set him on fire.

— ehcuodouche

Moses McJesus Heals the Sinners

And by heals the sinners, Adonai means smokes a spliff, borrows twenty bucks from his aunt Rachel, blows it on scratch tickets and a Slurpee, and spends the day lounging by the pool, bothering Mary, and avoiding a summons for an unpaid parking ticket.

It’s in Fluke 4:20. It’s a lesser known Bible passage. Like that story on off-track betting in the Himalayas, I’m sure you’ve been following it.

Neckglasses

For when your necktatt needs U.V. protection.

Breaking: Aliens Disgusted with HCwDB Boatbaggery, Vow Never to Return

Remember the alien mother ship that pondered the HCwDB Boatbaggery dilemma yesterday?

Word on the streets is that pilot Xenu took one look at Marty McPointer pointing at Barbarella Woo and was outtie.

Dieselcrotch Says, "Look at My Diesel Crotch!"

The Giggling Gigli Triplets giggle and politely decline.

Hours later, the bedroom on their rental cottage smelled like mothballs and patchouli.

Herpster 'Stache

If you’d told me back in 2009, when orange ‘roidbags haunted the hotts, that ironic late 19th Century Herpster ‘Stache would become a popular trend in HCwDB configurations, I would’ve responded thusly:

“Balderdash! This hobbadehoy is a fimble-famble! Surely this rumbumptious hugger-mugger’s gullyfluff needs a rain napper, stat! A hoy hoy, me rusty guts is off the horn.”

Mmmm… Mindy Pout. A juggle worthy teddy fondle of a fort-night’s glute poke, if I’ve ever seen one. And I have seen one. Once. I wrote about it in my diary.

Funger Whackenstein Makes the "Hard" Face with Angie

Lest you think Funger Whackenstein’s “hard” face was a fluke, a simple one-time display of talent beyond his capabilities, know that Funger Whackenstein can make the “hard” face whenever he chooses.

Angie’s hottness is obscured by large glasses, but poppity of shoulder suckle makes the baby Tebus spittle.

Herpster Wannabe Jason Schwartzmann Charms Shyen-Lin

But really, aren’t all herpsters, at their core, variations of Jason Schwartzmann?