HCwDB
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Thursday, May 31, 2007
HCwDB of the Week: Oompa Prompa
It wasn’t even close. Prom Oompa Loompa just crushed the competition. And by crushed, I mean Orange.
There’s a certain genius to the Prompa, and it’s not just the zoot suit or the orange or the hair. It’s that nervous moment we can all relate to. That glance around right before going to the prom when you’re waiting in line and making sure your tie’s on straight. The only difference is that unlike all of us at our prom who just felt like we looked ridiculous, Prompa actually does look absolutely ridiculous.
The range of emotions that Prompa inspired in the comments thread ran the gamut from hilarity to depression to heavy drinking. As the everpresent anonymous put it:
I stuck a couple of waffles in the toaster for breakfast but this thing in pink just made me lose my appetite. Time to call in sick to work and crack open the first OE of the day.
Nice Old English reference. I’m not the malt liquor drinker myself, but I respect anyone who mixes it with waffles. Born 2B Bag sums up the Prompa pain:
Grieco High, Newark New Jersey class of ’07. This is why Al Qaeda hates us.
They hate us for our hair gels, B2BB. choadasaurus rex wonders aloud at the development that lies in the future for this ‘Bagling and his sidekick:
WTF IS THAT?!?! This teen ‘Bag is definitely pushing the douchebag envelope. If he continues on this path his future here is bright… it will be interesting to follow his progression from prepubescent uberbagosity into a full blown scrote commando. Orange face, pink tux, gray spiked hair… and this is his prom gear. Imagine what his club ‘Bag attire would look like? I can’t even imagine… he is definitely shooting for the stars of douchedum. Watchout world… this new up and comer promises endless ‘Bag material.
The sky is the limit. He’s like the proverbial “next Michael Jordan” of the douchebag diegesis.
I was sad to see ‘Baggish and Syndrome find less support, as both are fully grown and highly accomplished scrotemeisters, well versed in the Art of ‘Bag. Each brought along a fine hottie to balance the equation, especially Syndrome’s (yum).
But the Orange Prompa was not to be denied. And there will be no cropping of this pic. Part of the genius is the long-shot. Finding the Prompa standing nervously in line.
It’s poetic art. Someone call the Guggenheim. Prompa is 21st Century dada at its finest.
So raise Prompa’s orange jersey to the rafters and book him a ticket to the Monthly. He’s officially enscribed as HCwDB legend.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007The Long Journey
During my long existential journey trolling through the swamplands of MySpace/Facebook hottie-douchey wrongness, I have found my soul vexed by many troubling questions.
What are the root causes of douche-hot duality? How does Grieco Virus spread its greasy plague from city to city, ‘Bag to ‘Bag, ‘Bag to Hottie and Hottie to Hottie?
My journey, my vision quest, into the dark festering land of douchitude has offered some answers, but also opened doors to more soul troubling questions. Do greased up uberchoadbags possess awareness? Does the inflated tat-douche ponder quandaries of being and nothingness? Do Hotties know not what they do? And can we forgive?
Most imporantly, can your humble narrator, The DB1, drink a six pack of PBR, down three packets of tasty Hostess HoHos, and still cruise high school parking lots in a beat up Chevy Cavalier?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007The Lime Rickey
Holy sweet merciless hooters, I miss being 18. Because when I was 18 I also had two sweet balls of teenage perfection in the back of a limo. Just like this choad.
Okay, maybe not. But the possibility was always there. As far as I knew.
I don’t know whether Suity McSilktie is a ‘bag, but, well, he’s a ‘Bag because I loves me some lime rickey. She makes me tremble like a coked up Kate Hepburn.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007Ice Ice Baby
Check out the douche while the DJ revolve it.
Yeah, I’ve done Vanilla Ice jokes on the site before. And I’ll do them again. Because I’m creative like that. And really, what else is there to say about this choad?
She’s like the hot young mom at the PTA meeting who looks all conservative, then dresses up as Wonder Woman on weekends and participates in reiki orgies. I would discuss lunch menus and after-school curriculum with her over lapsang souchong tea at Starbucks before getting my freak on to iPod house music and my expensive shaper image strobe lights.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007People are Douchey
People are douchey,
when you’re a douchebag,
Faces look scrotey,
when you’re a scrote.
Women seem Bleethey,
when you’re a choadbag,
Streets are uneven,
when you’re a clown,
When you’re douche,
Greasy chest features your bling,
When you’re douche,
Leather pants show off your thing,
When you’re douche…
When you’re douche…
When you’re douche…
Facebag
Those are five of the nicest balloons I’ve seen since The Blizzard.
Other than the douched out shirt, the dude doesn’t really have many classic ‘Bag signifiers. So lets stamp and process him as stage-1 EuroBag. Then ship his ass off to Vienna.
And by Vienna, I mean the sausage factory. Where he’d be more comfortable. While I steal away with sultry brunette by cover of moonlit night, only to ravish her under a chocolate waterfall while tiny Oompa Prompas dance in our peripheral ecstasy.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007Todd the VII
A little known legend about the great King of England, Henry the V, remains in English lore. The story goes that Henry the V had a much less famous and lazy younger brother, Todd the VII. Todd the VII would continually embarrass and shame the great warrior king during his rise to the throne.
When Henry the V finally ascended to the Crown in 1413, much of his court was deeply concerned. How would the new King of England handle the douchebaggy antics of his clownish and slothful younger brother, Todd the VII?
Henry tried to endure, but Todd’s continuing need to grease up and “Mack on the Harem” proved too much for Henry to tolerate.
Finally, by 1419, Henry had had enough of Todd’s greasy antics and sent him to the far East as a token of good will. When Todd reached Beijing, Todd was quickly taken in by Chinese guards and put on trial for being a “Barbarian Invader ‘Bag.” Emperor Ming the Choadalicious quickly took a liking to young Todd and allowed him one bar wench of his choosing before confining him to the Forbidden City. And so Todd the VII chose Katharine the Hott, pictured here.
Back in England, word of Todd’s bravery quickly spread, and by bravery, the jesters meant douchey. Todd the VII was quickly renamed “Todd the Douche,” and he lived out the rest of his life in the Forbidden City with Catherine the Hott, feasting on mutton, mead and Applebees chicken and ribs takeout.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007Pearls Jam
Nothing says 1970s, balls out, Sid Vicious, puking into an empty pizza box at 3am, CBGBs wall grime, essence of punk rock like wearing pearls in suburbia.
Pearls in suburbia. I like that name. It’s like a late 80s punk band meets an Eric Bogosian play meets a 2007 teenage uberchoad. And the Dr. Seuss socks just take the whole thing over the top.
I guess I gotta give it up to Pearls, here. At least he’s original. Now where’s Dee Dee and Joey to throw down.
She is Marisa Tomei from “My Cousin Vinny” goodness. I would pretend to be interested in cute furry animals and charity work if it meant we’d retire to her dorm room to make out to Bon Jovi’s greatest hits while her roommate studied Intro to Economics on the bunk bed above us.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007Choad Patrol
And while you’re mulling your vote for the HCwDB of the Week, here’s a toxic spill to help cleanse the palette.
In staring at the Choad Patrol here (and I’d be careful not to stare too long), the revelation of Ab Crustaceans brings up an important discussion. Is this simply an attempt at affectionate playfulness? Or aggressive posturing bordering on hostility and latent anger?
I’ve always found a certain linguistic irony in the fact that the words “aggression” and “affection” are so similar. And by linguistic irony, I do not mean pretending to enjoy your pasta at the Olive Garden.
What constitutes over the top douchebaggery posturing as aggression instead of affection? Where do we draw the societal lines on ab revelations and hottie headbutting?
And would Mira Sorvino Cutie let me lick her earlobes like a cracked up ferret?
Tuesday, May 29, 2007HCwDB of the Week: Trenton Edition
Three enter. Only one advances.
Yes, ‘bags, ‘bag hunters, hotties and choadscrotes, before we get to the smorgasboard of new pics I have in the hopper for this week, it’s time for the HCwDB of the Week contest. And we’re going it Trenton Style. This week’s ‘bag-off features three surprisingly classic selections of hottie/douchey wrongness. Well, two classics. And one pic that’s just, well, absolutely surreal. I speak, of course, of the legendary Oompa Prompa.
But I get ahead of myself. And by get ahead of myself I mean my shirt smells like moldy cheese. That’s what I get for a three day weekend. Speaking of cheese, Lets get to the goods. And by goods, I mean cheese:
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Syndrome
It’s not just that he looks like a Pixar animated bad guy, or that his mug is smirking with the greased up chin stubbley half-grin we have long established on this site as what I like to call “Classic ‘Bag.” And like any classic, it still delivers. And be delivers I mean makes me slam my head in a car door. But it’s not just his choady swill that makes this a worthy pic.
It’s that tall glass of Hot Chocolate. Megods she makes my toenails curl.
Sexy dress, sweet smile. As always in the Weekly we must weigh both the douchitude of the douchebag and the arousing aroma of hotness. This pic has both. All that and a douchetacular wrist-band on Syndrome’s “gun” hand. A worthy competitor for the Weekly, indeed.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: Oompa Prompa
Oompa Prompa is very orange.
His visage is already iconic and legend here at HCwDB and will grow moreso with every spiked follicle.
And while I worry about contract hits on my life for featuring potentially “connected” offspring on the site, I’ll console myself with the fact that Tony Soprano seems to have a pretty good sense of self deprecating humor. And since I believe everything I see on T.V., I’m going to assume others have that same ability to laugh at all things douchey, even the self inflicted kind.
So again, please do not hurt me. I have deep and profound respect for New Jersey. I’m a huge douchebag myself, only without hot chick. Do not seek violent retribution on my face. Instead, pity me. For I am Douchebag #1.
That being said, Orange. Orange.
HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Luck of the Baggish
Frost-tipped Douchey Charms, they’re Baggishly delicious!
It seems like all three of our ‘bags this week have left the realm of realistic human portrayal and entered a new zone. The only word for it is the “Douchetoon Zone.” They’ve slipped off the reservation and gone into pure drawn character mode.
‘Baggish is fantastic Jersey shore A-List scroad. The type that even Bruce Springsteen couldn’t write a nostalgic song about. Hottie on the right may be inflated, but has a sweet smile and looks like the type I could discuss Proust with over a glass of Pino Noir. And by Pino, I mean something something.
So there’s they are. Which’ll it be? ‘Baggish? Oompa? Or Syndrome?Line ’em up, and pick one.
I put it to you, Greg. Isn’t this an indictment of our entire American douchebaggery? Yes. Yes it is.
Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
