Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Meanwhile in Bay Ridge…

Vinnie gotta dance, yo!

Angie’s like, okay I guess. But in a few.

But Vinnie’s like, c’mon!

So Angie’s like, yeah, I s’pose.

But then Vinnie’s like, wait, I gots to apply my eyeliner first!

And Angie’s like, that’s so queeyah.

And Vinnie’s like, no it’s not, it’s super!

And they danced. Like a wave on the ocean scrote-mance. Like two pudwacks in love, and they danced.

And… scene.

Hanz, aka The Prince of Pompoos

Well I promisd it. And here it is. A true Monday morning shite sandwich.

Longtime HCwDB fan Jeff From Winnipeg alerted me to this Germanic atrocity now trying to cash in on irono-douchebaggery.

The name: Harald Glockler. But we can call him Hanz.

This extreme douchewank’s title: The Prince of Pompoos

Yeesh. The toxic stench is raw with this one. Like a pungent gouda on hottest summer’s eve. The h.C. side is less frequent, giving us at least a modicum of hope.

And by modicum, I meen ferret nad punch wingy.

Mocking must commence. And commence now.

For if there is anything holy and pure in this ungodly cesspool of a universe, then this deutschsbag will be banished to be gristle in the gears of poo churn.

Your Sunday Randomness

How’s about a little coolass mofo people doing stunts uplift as we finish up our Turkey? Just ignore the annoying techno and try not to think about the fail compilation that would represent this montage’s ugly underbelly.

Tomorrow’s got a douchebag/hott combo so toxic, we need a bit of levity in our lives before we witness that garish monstrosity.

So appreciate a touch of grace.