HCwDB
-
Friday, June 27, 2008
Mullets
Mullets.
Do they ever really go out of style?
Vegas says no.
EDIT: And if you missed the genius of pickup-artist voicemail leaving Dimitri, Here’s the link again. Enjoy the audio scrotitude.
Friday, June 27, 2008Long Island Boat Choad II

When the first pic of Sneery McBoat-tatt ran on the site as a Friday Haiku a few weeks ago, many of you thought to yourselves one of two thoughts:
1. bleeeeechhhhhhhh.
2. I wonder if this smug, flexing boat douche really does have spindly-ass legs to go with his trampy Long Island hott?
The answers to both questions have now been answered.
We also might need to consider a 2008 Douchie Nom for innovating a consistent ‘bag hand gesture in multiple pics ala Peaches in 2007.
Friday, June 27, 2008Uncanny
un·can·ni·ly, adverb
un·can·ni·ness, noun
1. having or seeming to have a supernatural or inexplicable basis; beyond the ordinary or normal; extraordinary: uncanny accuracy; an uncanny knack of foreseeing trouble.
2.mysterious; arousing superstitious fear or dread; uncomfortably strange: Uncanny sounds filled the house.
3. Two creepy-ass douchescrotes macking on Ally and Kristen.
Friday, June 27, 2008Friday Haiku

Surrender Dorothy,
Wizard of Scrozz is lime green,
And Toto’s on his chin.
mandana fruit fly
hott pink boobie tattoo bleeth
watermelon poo
— the ‘baggernaut
Crystal Meth hottness
Douchebaggery is alive
The male purse strap screams
— el doucherino
paris on crack is
caught with green Brundle fly
screw hiaku i’m scared
— douchetoevsky
Douche, jump off a cliff
Smokin’ hott makes, how you say,
Trousal arousal?
— crucial head
Thursday, June 26, 2008Porsche and Friends

How’s about some classic Lawn Giland hott/douche to go with a Thursday evening?
Here’s a pic of 2007 HCwDB of the Year Douchie Winner Joey Porsche kickin’ it by the pool, old-school style.
And while I’m clearing out the virtual attic, take a listen to Dimitri, the scrotiest pickup artist assbag this side of Mystery.
Rare is it that we can smell uberwank through phone voicemails. This is one of those times.
Dimitri, you are a psychotic ass.
Thursday, June 26, 2008Reader Mail

Just Another Bleeth writes in with a ‘bag tag from Vegas:
—-
DB1,
My girlfriends and I were in Vegas a couple of weeks ago for my birthday and ran into these awesomely douchetastic individuals. We were so impressed that we had to take pictures for you. I was amazed at how many douches there are in that town!!
~Just Another Bleeth (hah – yes I rip on myself too)
—-
Nicely done, JAB. Vegas is the Heart of Doucheness, and you and your friends should watch out. And by watch out, I mean pillow fight.
But I can save you.
And by save you, I mean rub Hersheys syrup on your pinkie toes while dressed in a giant Wally Moose costume and humming the theme song to The Young Ones.
Until you tell me that my riff grows tiresome. Which it does. But only when I haven’t had enough Vitamin A.
Thursday, June 26, 2008Name that Scrote

Authentobaggery? Or Fakedouchery?
I honestly can’t tell if these clowns are mugging it up as a joke, or are authentic Jerz poo.
What say you? Real scrote? Or imitation crab?
However I do subscribe to the belief that even ironic-douchery is still authento-scrotewankery. Thus, they still suck.
And Brunette would munch on my clavicle with deep spiritual repose.
Thursday, June 26, 2008Crimson Tide

I quote the great Picasso, who sat at his easel one morning and asked himself this simple question: Orange?
He chose blue.
Thursday, June 26, 2008Tune In, Turn On, Douche Out

It’s like 2008 collided with 1970 to form some bizarro time-travel mix of a hippie commune, an Israeli kibbutz, a nudist colony and a giant vat of Axe body grease.
I half expect Ken Kesey and Tom Wolfe to drive up on a day-glo school bus with Richard Grieco, Brian Bosworth and the Axe Bodyspray girls doing shots of Grey Goose.
It’s socialist collectivism by way of Miami Beach chest shave. Vintage 1920s Lenin manifestos by way of vintage 1980s Donnie Wahlberg free verse.
I don’t know whether to read some Ayn Rand, bomb the Bay of Pigs, or slurp some jello shots while staring at boobies.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008Reader Mail: Head Shaving

Bob-O writes in with a concert head shave ‘bag tag:
—-
DB1-
I was at a concert this past Friday night and saw this smoking hottie in front of me.
A few minutes later her boyfriend comes down to the seats and I don’t think much of him, but it’s pretty dark in Radio City and the lights are flashing so you can’t really get a good look. That’s when I noticed, the pattern shaved into the back of his head!
Is that paisley? What the f@#k is going on on his head? So I had to take a picture.
I realize it is from behind and that lessens the hottness of the chick, but trust me, I think you see enough to see she was pretty hot. Plus, if I didn’t snap a picture from behind, you wouldn’t be able to see just how much of a douche bag he actually is. Hope you and your readers enjoy!
-Bob-O
—
If by “enjoy,” you mean bust out the clippers and shave ancient curses in Gaelic on a nearby flock of sheep, you’d be correct.
But this brings up a good point. An experienced Hott Hunter needs only a 10-15 degree rotation from the back of the head to determine hottness in a young female boobie hottie. So yes, I can tell she’s hott.




