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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March 23, 2038 AD – Kim and Todd sit sulking, still angry about having to each give a kidney to Grampa J. Blaze.
Dark Socks codeine (respect) visions have come to my MacBookscreen and make me want to get stoned. Where are you Lenny? I need my sleepy stuff.
As attractive as these people are, I continue to refuse to get a fuk’n tatt. The negotiation period is officially over.
Family Day at the Methadone Clinic was always a big success.
Canada apologizes in advance for this inconvenient truth about to be an onslaught of douchebaggery and hubris, even by CNN standards. I’m sorry Sons. I will freeze my balls next winter by skiing crotchless for the burden you may endure.
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http://cnnpressroom.blogs.cnn.com/2013/04/09/stroumboulopoulos-comes-to-cnn-in-summer-2013/
rosary tatt around kneck!
…shovel to the face could help him age more gracefully
…knephews
…or is it knepos?
RevChad – look on the bright side, you’re my favorite Canadian. Appropriate name of the week: CNN Señor VeeP of something is Amy Entrails.
Those tatts are the work of a preschooler.
( announcer voice )
–
“This week on the Unemployable….”
I gave my wife an orgasm 10 years ago while she was whacked out on Ambien™. She’d taken a dose without telling me, then got frisky. Mid-coitus, she dismounts without a word and walks buck-naked into the kitchen and started peeling a banana. Not knowing what else to do, I put her up on the counter in the corner and resumed with gusto. She never stopped eating the damn banana and had a shuddering orgasm with a mouth full of the fruit. Thought she was gonna choke. To this day she has no recollection and thinks I made it up, and when I see any comely female eating a banana in a kitchen setting I get a mild renoB.
.
So I can mark that off my bucket list.
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Whew. Glad to get that off my chest.
.
.
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Neck hurts. Where’s my Lortab™? Son? Does Lenny The Box deliver via USPS?
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Pain Managers.
Chiquita Bananas
I still have bending a woman over a coffee table as she eats black cherries on the bucket list.
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And mounting my partner as she consumes a potted meat sandwich whilst folding laundry.
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Kinks.
Until sprocket and chain guard technologies are improved I have removed the bicycle and spare ribs item from the bucket list.
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Imperial Entanglements.
High as fuck but my exquisite painkiller buzz keeps getting harshed by pain. Maybe I should save the pills until after I’m done hurting…
.
.
boxers
Gonna be a long night.
.
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Dynamite King
[Steve Martin]
The dynamite factory had worked over time for the last year, having produced enough dynamite to equal one-one hundredth of an atom bomb. Biff stood in the center of the factory. To his left, the dynamite lay in piles to the ceiling. To his right, the powder lay in open kegs six rows across. A gross of caps was exposed in the boxes before him. Biff paused for a cigarette. He flicked the match out and tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. He took several puffs off the cigarette before he realized that he didn’t smoke, and tossed the butt to one side.
Just then, Biff fell asleep. “I must really be tired,” he said to himself as he crumpled to the ground in a heap.
When he woke up four hours later, Biff knew he would have trouble adjusting to all the changes that took place in the world during his sleep. Outside, he could already see strange people flying machines with no wings and people walking six feet above the ground. Biff checked at his feet; below him was a stick of dynamite and next to it a match. He picked up the dynamite in his hand and lit it. He figured that the odds of the wick snuffing itself out before the flame reached the powder were one in seven billion. He watched the flame climb rapidly down the wick. Then, in the last moments, the flame snuffed itself out.
“This must be my lucky day!” said Biff. And he walked out into the new world.
“Well, I never!” said Mrs. Watkins.
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The meeting of the College Council on Metaphysics the applauded her and stood up cheering. Of course, some of the old-school existentialists humbugged it, but nevertheless, the response was overwhelmingly positive.
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Then Mrs. Jenkins shouted over the crowd, “That woman never ceases to amaze me.” The logicians and semanticists gloated and looked anxiously over to the metaphysicians to see their reaction to the carefully planted “never ceases” insertion. Mrs. Jenkins obviously had been working for the logicians to arouse insurrection among the three or four Zeno partisans.
.
But suddenly Dr. Walker, who had been a recluse professor for almost twenty years, stood up. With the crowd instantly silenced by his commanding and unexpected rising, he uttered something so incredibly unutterable, so impossible, so unsolvable, that this mass of philosophy started heaving right and left and dying on the spot, blood bursting from their ears in an astounding death agony.
I want what Dark Sock is having….
.
I will bet Billy Joel is pissed this photo leaked out from his stay in rehab.
One time a few years back, about 18, I was a newlywed after a debauched 15-30 year old bachelorhood. Exciting times. New business and a rocking recreational curling career.
.
So we go curling every weekend stoned and drunk on all fucking types of shit and are having a great time. Lots of swingers cause of the weekends away at bonspiels (respect). Good times!
.
Snorting coke in the boiler room and joints on the fire escapes was as common as some extramarital shit…and shit. Son.
.
So one night after a mixed curling event the Mrs. and me are fucked out of our heads. So we went back to our first house and she was all horny. We were walking in a heavy, yet fluffy powdery snowfall, and shit. No fucking kids! So’s we goes to the back yard to fuck in the snow. I found a structural laminated foam insulated panel with an OSB exterior skin. It was covered with ice. So she wants to fuck on the plywood, but the ice is to cold for my sweet young wife. So I took my clothes off and gather some cardboard to insulate her firm buttocks from the cold.
.
Naked in the falling snow, maybe -7 degrees, very comfy fucking in the snow. Adventruous and troubled was the young couple in their insane desire for one another. A flame burning with a cocoon of existential love and twin flames forged of steel together in a zen enlightenment..and shit. And young firm titty-fucking outdoor beside my backyard bobleigh track …and anal shit on the fucking frozen plywood plywood,Son
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Lenny don’t export Son. He’s a local humanitarian grower and one hell of a chauffeur with benefits. I’m Spartacus and I’m stooooonnned
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Dark Sock is knepos, Son. I’m hungry.
Rusty Strombonolopoulous….wha?
Shuckin’ the Jive
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The crazy bastards were going down to the pool hall to play a little pinball when their car exploded blowing everyone to smithereens.
.
Some of Tubby’s flesh flew off to the side of the road, and in time nourished a sunflower growing there. Soon the sunflower was eaten by a horse and the horse was eaten by some hobos out for a wild time. Then one of the hobos met an eastward wandering Canadian guru. But before anything significant could happen the hobo died, being attacked by a dog heart in a scientist’s laboratory. The death was listed as a heart attack.
.
Then slavery was abolished.
The Gift of the Magi Indian Giver
.
Carolyn wanted so much to give Roger something nice for Christmas, but they didn’t have much money, and they had to spend every last cent on candy for the baby. She walked down the icy streets and peered into shop windows.
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“Roger is so proud of his shinbones. If only I could find some way to get money to buy shinbone polish.”
Just then, a sign caught her eye. “Cuticles bought and sold.” Many people had told Carolyn of her beautiful cuticles, and Roger was especially proud of them, but she thought, “This is the way I could buy Roger the shinbone polish!” And she rushed into the store.
.
Later at home, she waited anxiously as Roger came up the steps of their flat. He opened the door and wobbled over to the fireplace, suspiciously holding one arm behind his back.
.
“Merry Christmas!” they both said, almost simultaneously.
Roger spoke. “Hey, Nutsy, I got you a little something for Christmas.”
“Me too,” said Carolyn, and they exchanged packages.
Carolyn hurriedly opened her package staring in disbelief. “Cuticle Frames?! But Roger, I sold my cuticles so I could afford to buy you some shinbone polish!”
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“Shinbone polish!” said Roger, “I sold my shinbones to buy you the cuticle frames!” Roger wobbled over to her.
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“Well, I’ll be hog-tied,” said Carolyn.
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“You will? Oh, boy!” said Roger.
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And it turned out to be a great Christmas after all.
everytime I see a nekkid woman eating a banana, I put mine up her tailpipe
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O Henry’s
was that a sub.because im really going broke
Cows In Trouble
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These were not the average “contented” cows. They were cows born for trouble. They were not cows who could stand by and let people call them “bossy.” They were cows who could not hang around all day lowing. They were cows who could be just as happy chewing someone else’s cud as their own. These were renegade cows.
.
My first experience with the renegade cows began one day as I was admiring a particularly attractive cow at Johnson’s Weed Farm. As I stood there watching her sultry body moving lithely through the rushes, I noticed several other cows staring at me through the weeds, giving me that look that only a cow can give.
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Later that night, I was at home thinking over the day’s events. The Rubber Duck Throwing Contest, the parade that followed: bands and floats and baton-tossing girls all marching down the middle of the Missouri River. I should have been analyzing the glare of those cows I’d seen earlier that day.
The doorbell rang. I opened the door, glad to have a visitor, but found myself face to face with three renegade cows. I could not see their eyes behind the dark glasses.
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They ambled in and I did not try to stop them.
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That night they just stood around my bed and watched me sleep, much the same way my potatoes do, and I guess you might say I learned my lesson: Don’t fool with renegade cows.
Renegade cows huh,who are they?
It’s midnight…I have 24 Lortab and a bottle of Rye…fuck it. I’m disassembling my laptop. naked. Because static electricity is the tits. Son(s).
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It may be a while before you people hear from me.
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Wish me luck in this symbolic act of defiance against the yoke of our Masters in North Korea. BADGERS!
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I mean…WOLVERINES!
Oh, and don’t look up those naked pictures of Jodi Arias and her vag. Seriously. It looks like a Jacques Douchetou link or something. Now I know why the victim insisted on anal and oral. Her labia is so huge you could cut them off and construct an Ann Coulter golem out of just the left one, plus 8.5 wire coat hangers.
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labiaplasters.
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Don’t. Look. It. Up.
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Pandora’s (poorly shaved) Boxes.
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SEMPER FI
The midget weightlifter pic lifted my midget spirit. A tiny thanks for that.
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Where is Frére Jacques? That homme-braise better put out a signal a few times a week, je pense. Parce que le Doucheteau, il peut sentir une chatte puante de miles.
FUCCN KYBOAD IS NOT WOKING NOW. ITS FUCKD
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YOU WIN KIM JUNG ILL YOU COMMI MOTHFUCK
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SUN IS COMING UP
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THIS MSSAG BOUGHT TO YOU BY TH LTTS THAT FOLLOW “D” AND “Q” SINC THY AINT FUCCN WOKING NO MO, ALONG WITH CAPS FUCCN LOCK
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MAKS M SOUND LIK FUCCN FLYTITH
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SLAPWHOAS FAGOTHS
AT TH DUD 11:29 PM:
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WHAT MIDGT WIGHT LIFT? THAT IS ON JMY…SHIT…THIS GUY…IN PHYSICAL THAPY AFT HIS HAT ATTACK:
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FUGGIT I’M GOING TO SLP