Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

Mr. Spittoon Mackles Audrey

Because greasal pollution of the nation’s suckle taut hott supply is a toxic stench that even Bill Gates poopwater can’t revive through carbonic filtration.

HCwDB lives?…

Well, not so much these days.

But your humb narrs is carrying on as best he can into new permutations. And you’re always welcome to hop in our concptual DeLorean and join the heroic neck-fused DarkSock for more mock back in 2005.

Breaking: Tom Jones is a Tangerine

The proper caption for this image is:

A) “It’s not unusual to be bronzed by anyone…”

D) “I just want your extra time and your…. Sunkist.”

Answer now!

2015 Smoot Says “Groooo”

Wherein once a Gregorian chant intoned by the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos lilted across the flora of pristine rainforests.

Now a plaintive cry winds its way across the landscape of Vegas bottle service beholden only to hottie/douchey memory.

For it may be a simple syllabic grunt.

A primal gutturality of overextended credit card and extreme cardio pilates.

But it is also an aural beacon. A sonic marker. As if a thousand Israeli Shofars cried out as one and were suddenly douchey.

For within that dulcet pedantic cry lies a blend of emotive purity and pristine pectoral flex.

Smoot hath seen the New Year dawn.

And it is Groooo.