HCwDB
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Thursday, January 29, 2009
Scarfly
Laugh it up, Rico. The Hott Cousins still aren’t going home with you.
Wednesday Limerick
Crazy Eyes Killah mugs Jennifer sweetly,
While society’s thumb says, “Whatta douche!” so discreetly,
For Jennifer thinks,
“Five more minutes = free drink!”
But will she make it? Killah’s shirt smells like Tyrone Wheatley.
Honorary Douchebag of the Month: "Nik Ritchie" of The Dirty
It’s long past due that we honor one of the legendary douchebags of the world wide interwebs, the one and only creative vacuum of suckage that is “Nik Ritchie,” creator of something called “The Dirty.”
A hollow vessel of intellectual vacuity and incurious ass-suckage, “Nik” spews his brief sentences of unfunny on pics like a regurgitating rhesus monkey, without rhyme, reason, point, perspective or humor. He is the anti-funny.
He sucks comedy out of the cosmos and redistributes it as the white noise of poo.
This fraudulent clown actually claims the following as his “mission statement”:
“The premise of the web site is for people to be held accountable for their actions,” Karamian stated. “Obviously I poke fun at it, and throw it in somewhat of a funny light. But at the end of the day people don’t want to be exposed as something that they kind of shun…If The Dirty wasn’t around, people would be just going on like nothing ever happened.”
Yes, thanks to Nik Ritchie’s “The Dirty,” people will never not go around like nothing ever happened again. Nice to seek a justification, Ritchie, without the words, concept, or consciousness to do so. Just admit you like “teh funny picturz” and end it there.
For the first six months of existence, The Dirty pulled pics from HCwDB’s Hall of Scrote, branded them with a “Dirty” logo, and then smeared the unfunny all over them with Ritchie’s typical steaming pile of suckage. The Gator, The Prompas, each made their way into The Dirty’s endless production of image in search of point. Commentary desperately seeking comedy, and finding only the monosyllabic douchebonics of Nik Ritchie.
An example of Nik Ritchie’s incisive deconstruction of pop-culture terminology: He calls Affliction shirts, “Assliction.” Get it? Because Affliction sounds like “Assliction” but then it’s ass, which means it’s bad, which is funny.
This clown even tried to “out” me on his site with some ridiculous pic of a John Denver dude, without bothering to realize my photo is in my book and I’ve meet with numerous people at book signings.
But that’s not what makes The Dirty a vortex of anal suckage. HCwDB is fair game for criticism from all who’d like to voice it. Just be funny about it.
The Dirty licks Tijuana hooker taint because of the complete lack of voice. Lack of commentary. Lack of thought. And, most crucially, lack of funny.
The Dirty is empty mass culture regurgitation without any notion of satire or cultural critique. There is no concept or comprehension of what it is he wants to say, and even worse, no interest in even wondering if that’s a problem. Nik Ritchie wants people to read his site without ever once stopping to wonder as to the why. Funny pics? Maybe. Clever writing? I like turtles.
Ritchie has the cleverness of a lobotimized yak headbutting a lamppost. The literary aesthetic of involuntary muscle spasm by way of fetal alchohol syndrome.
I’m all for sites using images of our media age to critique the nonsensicality of the simulacrum in the age of spectacle. But The Dirty is the worst of all worlds. It fails to be “dirty.” It fails to be “the.” It fails to even be Fail Blog.
So for the lameness, the boorishness, the pointlessness and the unfunny, for looking like a rejected Sasha Baron Cohen character, and for being a D.U.I. away from another jail sentence, the worthless parasite Nik Ritchie gets a well deserved Douchebag of the Month.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009Honorary Douchebag of the Month: “Nik Ritchie” of The Dirty
It’s long past due that we honor one of the legendary douchebags of the world wide interwebs, the one and only creative vacuum of suckage that is “Nik Ritchie,” creator of something called “The Dirty.”
A hollow vessel of intellectual vacuity and incurious ass-suckage, “Nik” spews his brief sentences of unfunny on pics like a regurgitating rhesus monkey, without rhyme, reason, point, perspective or humor. He is the anti-funny.
He sucks comedy out of the cosmos and redistributes it as the white noise of poo.
This fraudulent clown actually claims the following as his “mission statement”:
“The premise of the web site is for people to be held accountable for their actions,” Karamian stated. “Obviously I poke fun at it, and throw it in somewhat of a funny light. But at the end of the day people don’t want to be exposed as something that they kind of shun…If The Dirty wasn’t around, people would be just going on like nothing ever happened.”
Yes, thanks to Nik Ritchie’s “The Dirty,” people will never not go around like nothing ever happened again. Nice to seek a justification, Ritchie, without the words, concept, or consciousness to do so. Just admit you like “teh funny picturz” and end it there.
For the first six months of existence, The Dirty pulled pics from HCwDB’s Hall of Scrote, branded them with a “Dirty” logo, and then smeared the unfunny all over them with Ritchie’s typical steaming pile of suckage. The Gator, The Prompas, each made their way into The Dirty’s endless production of image in search of point. Commentary desperately seeking comedy, and finding only the monosyllabic douchebonics of Nik Ritchie.
An example of Nik Ritchie’s incisive deconstruction of pop-culture terminology: He calls Affliction shirts, “Assliction.” Get it? Because Affliction sounds like “Assliction” but then it’s ass, which means it’s bad, which is funny.
This clown even tried to “out” me on his site with some ridiculous pic of a John Denver dude, without bothering to realize my photo is in my book and I’ve meet with numerous people at book signings.
But that’s not what makes The Dirty a vortex of anal suckage. HCwDB is fair game for criticism from all who’d like to voice it. Just be funny about it.
The Dirty licks Tijuana hooker taint because of the complete lack of voice. Lack of commentary. Lack of thought. And, most crucially, lack of funny.
The Dirty is empty mass culture regurgitation without any notion of satire or cultural critique. There is no concept or comprehension of what it is he wants to say, and even worse, no interest in even wondering if that’s a problem. Nik Ritchie wants people to read his site without ever once stopping to wonder as to the why. Funny pics? Maybe. Clever writing? I like turtles.
Ritchie has the cleverness of a lobotimized yak headbutting a lamppost. The literary aesthetic of involuntary muscle spasm by way of fetal alchohol syndrome.
I’m all for sites using images of our media age to critique the nonsensicality of the simulacrum in the age of spectacle. But The Dirty is the worst of all worlds. It fails to be “dirty.” It fails to be “the.” It fails to even be Fail Blog.
So for the lameness, the boorishness, the pointlessness and the unfunny, for looking like a rejected Sasha Baron Cohen character, and for being a D.U.I. away from another jail sentence, the worthless parasite Nik Ritchie gets a well deserved Douchebag of the Month.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009Ask DB1: Is Jeff Reed a 'Bag?
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Dear DB1,
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Reed’s scrotebaggery is well documented on this site, as seen here and here.
But I have some sympathy for the loneliness of the long distance kicker. They’re not really a football player. They’re not really an athlete. Just sort of freakish. So I’d almost give Reed a nottadouche but then I saw the rest of the pics on Kissing Suzy Kolber.
Sorry, YBH.
Your kicker is at least a stage-2 barbag.
Ask DB1: Is Jeff Reed a ‘Bag?
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Dear DB1,
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Reed’s scrotebaggery is well documented on this site, as seen here and here.
But I have some sympathy for the loneliness of the long distance kicker. They’re not really a football player. They’re not really an athlete. Just sort of freakish. So I’d almost give Reed a nottadouche but then I saw the rest of the pics on Kissing Suzy Kolber.
Sorry, YBH.
Your kicker is at least a stage-2 barbag.
Kettlehead Suave
Kettlehead is celebrating the HCwDB of the Week going to Ringworm Sharpie by corralling two brunette hotts and making sure the sheen on his forehead resembles a cock-n-balls.
HCwDB of the Week: The Sharpie Ringworm
A tight, even voting this week, with all three nearly splitting the vote. And by tight I mean bustier. And by splitting, I mean tree rings on the face. Lets turn it over to the voters:
Captain Bringdown: the vote goes to Ringworm, because if the shaven chest, open shirt collar outside the jacket wasn’t bad enough, he committed those sins while looking like a feeding turkey vulture, and STILL pulled a Hott.
Vincent: Sharpie looks a tad more douchier than Tad…and although the ass pears in the butthead photo are nice, I’m going w/ Sharpie dude.
Adolf Skroatler von Baggenstein: Hey Sharpie Ringworm, Target is hiring.
Champagne Douchernova: Or perhaps if you stare at the Ringworm long enough, then look at a blank wall, you see the hidden location of the new Ed Hardy/ArmaniExchange Outlet store.
Cool Hand Douche: sharpie ftw. its not just the face, its the open jacket/no shirt ensemble combined with sultry minxness of tera patrick-like hott, with smaller cans. i love her, and i think he should kill himself.
Winnie the Poon: Sharpie Ringworm FTW. I mean, c’mon. What kind of cockholster does that to his own face or even let’s his friends do it to him?
Douchkovsky: Weather Channel called. They want their isobars back. Sharpie Ringworm makes me want to rub my ass on the carpet. He also reminds me of those illusions that you stare at for a minute and then look away. Sharpie FTW
the motley douche: So that just leaves Ringie and that bull’s eye on his face. It’s like skeeball for fists. And that mandatory follow-up question…how many tickets do for breaking his nose?
Anonymous: Sharpie Ringworm. I feel hypnotized while looking at his face…so it is in a dreamlike-state of zen that I do throw a fist into his face. Plus, you can’t ignore the collar-pop. Or the open shirt. 100% Grade-D Douche material. And Turban Hott trumps Trina or the Butt twins, for sure.
greekbag: The douchetard was clearly born with a target on his face. He was born to get ridiculed because of his suit-jacket-wearing-while-shirtless ways. Ringworm all the way.
Anonymous: Sharpie FTW. Even if he’s at a Halloween party that requires drawing on your face with a Sharpie in order to gain entrance he’s a super douche.
Well said, panel. Even the Halloween nature can’t deny that this combo of hott and dress-up scroad is chest-shaving draculean wrongness. Coming in a solid second, the Douche-Prom coupling of Tad and Trina:
Mr. Belvadouche: Tad’s face clearly states that he truly believes that he is “the man”. For that I sweep kick him and give Trina the ace of spades across her forehead
Doctor Douchenvanjensen: I’d have to go with Tad and Trina. Trina is “one fine piece of ace” and Tad looks like that kid who could turn his eyelids inside out in grade school and thought he was extremely cool because of it.
Amy.mangos: Tad and Trina FTW! She’s clearly the hottest hott, and even if pink satin pimp’bags are a dime a dozen, the spider leg head shave and “I’m totally pimpin'” eyes under “I’m SO the man” brows makes me want to toss him in the dumpster with the rest of the club’s trash. And I’m pretty sure I could take him.
And Butthead also found some buttlove, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing a 2009 Douchie Nominee in the “Ass Pear” category:
Anonymous: I vote for butthead. I just can’t look at that picture without wanting to punch that man in the brain for somehow coaxing two such nicely shaped young women into taking that photo with him.
But the ever present anonymous explains why Sharpie and Middle Eastern Hott take the prize:
Sharpie wins even without the Sharpie.
I like that. It reads like an existential meditation puzzle. Book Sharpie and Turban Hott a ticket to the Monthly. For he is rings of poo, and she is bustier.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009Kettlehead Goes Country
He’s a little bit Popped Collar, and he’s a little bit tight t-shirt.
But he’s all ‘bag.
I would circle the Cliffs of Mordor in a two seater twin-engine plane with one engine out and the other one with a post-Shatner gremlin on the wing just for the chance to swan dive into a puddle of water left behind by her pet cat, Smookums.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009Meghan's 'Bag Tag
PIC DELETED
Meghan writes in:
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these guys thought they were the sh@t… then one almost dropped me putting me down! my head came about 2 inches from smacking the ground! then he proceeded to text me all night long
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Although this email is brief, has no introduction nor context, and seems to just stop randomly in mid-sentence, the point Meghan is making is important.
The classic “drop on ground then text all night long” strategy is frequently seen in the stage-1 Fratbag.
You did well to escape from Lurch and The Boobie Pawer, Meghan. Now stop hanging out with your BFF by the power lines.
