Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Benzino Feels the Douchewaves Emitting from K.V. – Pledges to Act Even Douchier

This competition’s gonna take gettin’ swole, shredded, jacked, fondled, fingered, bones, clams, and whatever else we say in the parlance of our times..

The Women of LA

Pure genius and the story of my move to L.A., complete with nerdy Jewish doppelganger.

“You’re not in Murray Hill anymore, bro” for the win.

A Whole Bunch of Herpster Assmunch Hits on Desiree

William Herpsterassmunch, come on down!!

You’re the next contestant on Why Old People Should Not Establish Trustfunds for their Grandchildren Without Getting To Know Them First!

Kisseus Vomitorious Wants to Pump You in the Hanficapped Stall

The Vomitorious himself writes in to deny accusations of high percentage bodyfat:

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KV Here,

Took about 3 weeks I was on a straight no gym clubbing only plan. Bench pressing bitches. Curling girls and squating skanks. Running my mouth and sex for cardio. Haters gonna hate. Calvin bangin gonna bang. You mad bras? It’s f@#king shredding season get off the computer and meet me in the club where we will do pushups to pump up together in the hanficapped stall and hit the dance floor!

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I used to occasionally squat skanks after eating Indian food. I find that an extra glass of water before you go to bed can help.

Love in the Time of Collar-Up

Here’s a story that can only be understood if the entirety of symbolic meaning is taken into account.

First we have Groovin’ Brothabag Woody in the pink leisure suit. Groovin’ Brothabag Woody is our spirit guide, our shaman, our subjective interloper in the spirit world.

Then we have our protagonist, Silk Shirt Steve. A stage-1 or stage-2 ‘bag for the lip pubes and sleeve fold maneuver.

Our heroine, delightful belly spankle pooch fondle Samantha offers all that angels sing in cherubic medieval butt revealing harpsichordian song. Hers are the earlobes that I would wistfully tickle and clasp with knock-kneed knock knees. Her black dress sheen promises a reveal of nakedness that far surpasses anticipation, one of the rarest of joys in this cold and chaotic world. I would fondle. Indeed. Oh yes. And oh yes.

And then, our Collar-Up antagonist, Earl. Who is ironic. And drinks PBR. And has just taken headshots in the hopes of getting cast in a Heineken commercial.

Reader Mail: More Bleethy Hotts!!

Gamecockbag writes in with a demand, along with the following pics.

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Did some fat Guido take over this site?

-Gamecockbag

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This critique, while totally valid, would perhaps be more apropos were the Bleethy Hotts submitted along with it not entirely made up of Crisco and Man Tan (with the exception of the quality hottitude chew bobble in pic #3).

I proverbially drop the mic to your dropped mic, and head to the kitchen to microwave a burrito.

Brothabag Phil Makes "Shocker," Still Thinks It's 2007

The ladies may giggle at Brothabag Phil’s wacky hijinks, and the boobies may come out to play, but the stupid glasses remain.

Surf Gronkowski Is Laid Back with Sophia

Ya know, I was gonna tag a stage-1 due to the chin pubes and herpster hat, but those haciendas are a well groomed garden delight.

So what the hell, have a notta and a goinpeace Surf G. You seem content with yourself, and the obnoxious quotient is low. Shave the chinfung, though. For it is obtuse.

You and Sophia are set free. May your coital escapes be pure and with resonant integrity.

Ask DB1: Economic Recession and Poppin' Bottles

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Dear DB1,

I’ve been wondering if the wretched state of out economy has finally caught up to douchebag culture.

Less and less are we seeing $100 bottle service baggery, we see Ed Hardy tanking as a business.

The jeans de rigueur such as True Religion, Diesel et al with the garish back pockets & button flaps a thing of the past.

Can one surmise that the one good thing to come out of the economic raping of our society has been less dbaggery? or has it just shifted to another subclass?

Yours in mock

ETD?

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When I first began HCwDB, wayyyyy back in 2006 (1912 in human-to-internet years), we were still a nation of credit-card living assmunch.  A heaping collection of head-in-rectus delusional nitwits that thought tilted baseball caps and popped collars looked good and invading Iraq was a swell idea.

A land of moronitude in which image, excess, and primal urges superceded rational thought and critical perspective.

We now live in very different times. Douchebaggery continues strongly, albeit in recoded forms such as herpsterbags and John Mayer. So it is still very much there.  But the credit-card excesses of the mid 2000s are thankfully, washed away, leaving only recession, debt, and economic disaster in their wake.

Mr. Vomitorious Rebuts Our Collective Jest

K.V. himself responded in last week’s comments thread with the following:

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If you can’t handle me when I’m bulking then you sure as hell don’t deserve me when I’m shredded 😉 and its “Calvin bangin” not “kv” google me

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In a noteworthy coincedence, when my colon is bulking I eat shredded wheat.

EDIT: K.V. is on the Facebook.