Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Nice Guy Jack Wins at the Game Of Life

Good on you, Jack. Now talk Sophie into turning down the bronzer and may all your flapjacks be maple syrup covered.

I don’t know what that means but it sounds kinda dirty.

I’m talkin’ 2am IHOP bathroom dirty.

Herpster Elijah Gets Down with 30s Hott Karen At an Annoying Bar in Sheboygan

Unearned Dog Tags on Herpsters with extensive vinyl collections and no TVs.

Still out there.

Still douchey.

Bleeeeeethsss

For those wanting more female douchebags, aka douchebaguettes, aka Bleeths, on the site, here ya go.

“Douchettes in the Mirror” for $800, Alex.

You know a classic ‘Bag who would enjoy sharing a tasty cola beverage with these Bleeths right about now?

Of course you do.

Oldbag Tex Wildflower Lives on Borrowed Time

Tex Wildflower may have watched the railroads come in and take out the true spirit of the prairie, but he ain’t goin’ out without at least one more suckle fondle.

And for that, we tip the bridge of our stetson and pour out a glass of some of that tasty Sioux City sarsaparilla in Tex’s honor.

Laser Swag

Dear Fabrizio.

I’m glad that your uncle owns stock in Ferrari. And it’s enough to earn you the temporary affections of Monica Belucci’s younger sister, Federica Belucci.

But earwig + bling + stupid hair + douche everything means you deserve societal wretch across your stupidface.

Sincerely,

– All

Where's Waldouche? Scary But Still Kinda Sexy In an Angry Nun Kinda Way Vegas Pro Edition

Somewhere in this…

Oh hell, lets move on..

Indiana Herpster and the Kingdom of the Missing Chromosome

Fakes.

Why did it have to be fakes.

Lil' Dickie Sums Up Being in Your 20s

Story of my life, Lil’ Dickie. Story of my life. Except for the ending. Well, sometimes. I did have my moments.

Wallnuts After Dark: What's With All A The Boner Pill Commercials?

You know, I know guys sometimes have problems gettin’ enough led in the ole pencil, if you catch my drift. And I think it’s great that these pill companies coulda come up with some medicines that help the unfortunates among us get it up so we can make our lady friends happy.

But do we really need all a the boner pill commercials? I can’t watch a friggin’ ball game wit out seein’ a ton a commercials with the guy and the girl sittin’ in the separate bath tubs holdin’ hands and the guy talkin’ about ED.

Back in the day when Frank drank too much to get it up he had this home remedy where he’d take a hot towel soaked in Sambuca and tie it all up around his S n’ B Combo – that’s for “Schwanz and Balls” – like it was a Braciole! Then ole’ Frank slapped at it with a leather belt until his schwang sprang into action. Usually after about 10-minutes a slappin’ he was rarin’ to go.

I do admit that the guys woulda loved the Cialis. Not cause they had trouble sportin’ the man salute, but they woulda loved to see how long they could go. Believe you me, they wouldn’t be callin’ no doctor if they was lucky enough to score a 4-hour stiffie, and I ain’t talkin’ about no scotch and soda; they’d be callin’ every broad they knew!

Plus they was always wit these crazy dames who went all night, like Mitzi Gaynor and Angie Dickenson, so why wouldn’t they wanna keep up and go “O for O?”

I can almost hear Frank yellin’, “Hey DW get me a couple a them pills! I wanna all night hahd-on that looks like one a my Uncle Nunz’s Soppresate! (pronounced, “super-sod”)” By the way, Frank never pronounced the “r” in hard-on. It was always, “hahd-on.”

Now I myself have had occasion to enjoy what these pills can do for my love life. Mrs. Wallnuts loves a good 36-hour romp, so once in a while we scare up a couple a bottles of some good bubbly and go at it like all sorts of hammer and tongs until we passes out. She even brings along her best friend Connie every now and then. Three’s company. Na mean?

So I ain’t got nothin’ against them pills, I just don’t need to hear about ’em every two seconds when I’m watchin’ sports.

Friday Thoughts and Links

Like poo water for poo chocolate.

I have no idea what that means.

Douchebags may have become society’s denatured clowns, but the mock continues as the herpsterbags and Cosplaying pseudo-nerds take over their slots of arrogance.

Hmm… “Slots of Arrogance.” Wasn’t that the original name of the Jeff Bebe Band?

Here’s yer links:

Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “A strange man defecated on my sister.”

While my hometown of Boston went through a lot over the past few weeks, let us never forget the genius of the Boston accent. Wicked. Wheas tha nehrest Dunkin’? Because Bostonians love being reduced to a cultural stereotype. Like Alison Porchnik.

The Huffington Post asks, Are the Boston Bombers just Douchebags? I was not, as I should have been, consulted for this article.

When genocide in Syria needs to be tuned out, lets get our priorities in order: The Absolute Worst Things in the World.

Ever wonder about the DB1’s deepest darkest illicit fantasies? They involve chocolate syrup, a ping pong paddle laced with candy corns, and them. The things I would shear…

There are movies. There are good movies. And then there’s The Killing of Satan.

Dumpster in a Bag. Also known as an out of work bartender in Vegas.

Bored this weekend? 30 Abandoned Places that are Beautifull.  Amazing stuff.

Okay, you’ve been good. Enjoy Triple Hula Pear:

Hula Pear #1 Hula Pear #2 Hula Pear #3

Toggle back and forth with your dongle and it’s like staring at an early Muybridge photoplay.

What? Not enough?

Okay. Have some

R. Crumb Pear

Because surreal is a reminder of the traumas of the 1960s generation.

EDIT: Hula #3 link fixed. Mmmm… hulapear…