HCwDB
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Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Truck Head
It’s hard to count the varieties of douche manifest within this pic. Once 10 degree trucker cap met popped collar, ‘bag hand gesture and scrote face, all in the presence of this sultry brown eyed girl, all motor functions left my bowels.
I would rotate Truck Head on a grill spit and baste with L.A. Looks gel until his facial goo melted.
Then I would build large talisman structures on remote tropical islands in her honor to confuse future generations of archeologists.
She is just hot perfection, right up the DB1’s alley. Slap a pair of librarian glasses on this one and I’d definitely consider a short, stormy marriage followed by a drawn out divorce in which she would take half my bank account while dating Erno, the German video performance artist from Ludwigsburg. It would be worth it just to darn her socks for a fortnight.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007Wee Willy Wanker
And while we’re recovering from a hard fought HCwD of the Month contest, Wee Willy Wanker here wanted to pop in and tell you what he thinks of you.
He’s like a douche chaser. Helps cleanse the palette. Like gari, the pickled ginger you eat between pieces of sushi to clean the tongue and prepare for the savory tastes of the next piece of fish. In this case, that piece of fish is actually a flaming ball of ‘bag.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007HCwD of the Month: Pumpy
Excellent analysis, deconstruction and debate in the comments thread, props to all for bringing their A-game to our parsing of the cultural narratives and forces of hegemony that conspire to create the dominant and oppositional HCwD discourses of our day. From Derrida to Proust, from string theory to post-feminism and third wave gender analysis, we must dig ever deeper to expose the forces at work that lead to such unholy, and douchey, comingling like the four featured in this month’s contest.
As to questions about Donkey Douche, the D.D. has already ascended into the Scrote pantheon, there is no need for his greatness to trifle with the mere mortal hottie/douchey combos that must compete for our attention and our votes in this contest. Don’t cry for him, Dario Argento. For he will remain with us, haunt our dreams, at least until the crazy ghost killer shows up in the final reel.
Stupid late night horror on HBO.
The monthly voting basically came down to T ‘Bag and Pumpy, with Beastie simply not rising the blood pressure enough to cause a ripple and StewBag’s Maggie perhaps throwing off the curve with her defense of her douchetraction tendencies in the comments thread. As to Pumpy, he crushed the competition like only a Douchezilla can. Like the first icon of the raving roidbag to appear on the site, Old No. 7 aka Cro Bagnon, Pumpy’s sheer simian force and the cuteness of his innocent hottie was just too much to overcome.
greekbag sums up why Pumpy can ascend to the douche pantheon with barely a scrote accessory on him:
From the moment I saw Pumpy, I recognized his greatness. He is the Proto-Douche in the new wave of Roid ‘Bags that is sweeping the nation today. Look at this guy’s hands! One is almost entirely covering her right side while the other one has gone in for one of the most egregious boob grabs this side of T-Bag. And his hottie is excellent. She’s no Maggie, but she’s perky enough to make me dream about eating soft shell crab off of her stomach and then taking a long nap in between her beautifully crafted silicone chest…
His piercing gaze through those fake Ray-Bans transcends our current understanding of douchiness and reaches a completely new level that I cannot put into words. The Grieco spirit seems to have chosen him as the future of Douchitude. And the future is a bleak one.
Also, if you don’t vote for him, he will rip out your spine and use it as a toothpick.
I vote for pumpy
But that’s not to say the T Bag didn’t also find some love, and by love I mean Fruit Loops. david douchecovney brings some stellar analytics to his deconstruction and winds up casting in with the T Bagger:
Within this set of specimens there are actually TWO subsets. The first being the combination yam grab/moronic facial configuration exemplified by Tbag and Pumpy. The second subset can be characterized by having only one distinctive douche trait. Beastie has the ‘bag hand gesture & nothing more to recommend him. Stewy has his hair. I have taken the hotness of the hot chicks as given in all cases.
As two are always better than one if the object be “good” or “desireable” then conversely, two become worse than one if the object be “bad” or “repulsive”. As we are attempting to determine the worst douchbag it follows that our second subset must needs be eliminated from consideration.
It is my feeling that a vote for Pumpy is wasted. Wasted on him, on you, me, all of humanity. It is wasted in the same way that the sensation (which must be quite pleasant) traveling from his paw is wasted on his brain. The message does not compute, like a tree falling in an empty cranium, Pumpy is a a waste.
Tbag gets my vote. I hate that guy so much.
Seriously you guys . . . hate . . . that . . . guy.
I hear ya D.D. (and I don’t mean the Donkey). danny bonnadouchey agrees, and sums up the wrongness:
T’Bag ruins this picture. Everytime I try to focus on those amazing boobs, I see someone’s hand limply grasping one. “Who’s hand is that?”, I ask. My eyeline then raises to meet T’Bag. It settles first on his gaping maw, emitting a velociraptor-like screech of elation at touching those fantastic boobies. I then meet his gaze, his red eyes burning me like two hot coals of baggery. I finally take in the hat. The straight-brimmed, two sizes too large hat.
I’m going to go lay down in front of traffic now.
To offer the female perspective on the ‘bag boob grope #02, fanny double douche had this to say:
if that were my funbag he was groping, you’d need a barrel of crisco to make my passion fruit work again. so, my vote is for t-bag.
But Otto Graf von Douchemark takes it home for Pumpy:
Im gonna cut it short this time: Its Pumpy.
He is Arnold Douchenegger, the Douchinator. He could squash your head with one hand and still have the same non-expression on his face. He looks like that because he does not have to prove that he is douche, he knows it. No need for toungebaging or bag-faces. His face is just scary. He looks like he knows your going nuts over his tittiegrap but you cant do s#@ about it.
I just tried to imagine a fight between Pumpy and Cro´bagnon, that would be the end of the world as we know it…
And so we raise Pumpy’s stretched out jersey to the rafters. It was a hard fought HCwD of the Month contest, but Pumpy prevailed. Props to ‘bag hunter danny bonnadouchey for finding the pic, and props to all for the excellent comments and voting. I thought the Ghost could’ve given Pumpy a run for his money, but that’s the way the forehead grease drips.
To quote the great Jean Baudrillard, who sadly passed away a few days ago:
The liberated man is not the one who is freed in his ideal reality, his inner truth, or his transparency; he is the man who changes spaces, who circulates, who changes sex, clothes, and habits according to fashion, rather than morality, and who changes opinions not as his conscience dictates but in response to opinion polls.
However, since you just read that on a computer screen, it may not have really taken place. Rest well, Baudrillard. The simulacrum remains.
10 Things I hate About Douche
#10: Oiled up Mugs
#9: Guys who look like Jim Carrey on Acid
#8: The Shirtless women who love them
#7: Shirtless ‘bags
#6: Sweat pants
#5: I’m completely out of attributes to comment on with this pic
#4: Damn, how many more do I have to make up to get to #1?
#3: Almost there…
#2: White Bandanas
#1: This guy
Plastic Man
You know, some days I wake up and feel infused with divine purpose. I want to change the world. Save orphans from drowning and plant trees in the rain-forest. Feed a homeless man or simply smile at a nun.
Other days I want to get my tongue pierced, put on mascara and lick a cutie’s chin.
But it looks like Plastic Man beat me to it.
Oh well. Maybe I can clean a penguin instead.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007Say Challo to his Little Friend
Snapped by a reader during a trip to South America, this pic is a nice demonstration of the EuroBag in all his skeezy glory.
Someone needs to corner kick this soccer ‘bag for the underwear display alone.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007Spike Returns
Longtime readers might remember Spike from his appearance in Spike and the Sultry Vixen last Fall. Well Top Gun flyboy Spike has returned to douche out for us wearing a lovely red headed bottle of burgundy goodness. Note the same ‘baggy expression, cheesed out glasses and secret longing to take a bubble bath with Tom Cruise.
As to the red wine he’s holding, tight jeans and cleavite and my hangover is almost gone.
Voting for HCwD of the Month will remain open until tomorrow so get yer votes in. And no cheating and voting for the Soc pic. That dude has found HCwD immortality, his place on the douche mantelpiece is secure. We need to raise a new champion to the rafters. And by champion, I mean cocoa puffs.
Monday, March 12, 2007Smashing Pumpkinhead
And while you’re stewing over the pile of pud presented for your parsing, here’s what may or may not be the hottest Russian defector since Vanessa Angel in Spies Like Us. She is triple shot vodka goodness. And posing with a smirky, lip fungus who may or may not be Scott Weiland’s illegitimate son. There’s a cold war in my pants.
Megods, I’d Marx her Engels. I’d defect her pravda. She warms my Tolstoy with an extra order of bratwurst.
What, so bratwurst isn’t from Russia. Sue me. It’s not like “She warms my Tolstoy with an extra order of Blini” has quite the same ring.
As to Smashing Pumpkinhead, it’s rare that a head forms an off kilter octagon without causing permanent brain damage. It is positively Piscopoian in its freakish oddness. It makes me itch. Make it go away.
Monday, March 12, 2007Soc and Friends
You gotta give it up to the legend. Not only can he maintain the oiliest head this side of Halliburton, but his hair is neatly organized for harvesting in the Fall.
And his friend.
Wow.
It’s hard to put this pic up with a HCwD of the Month contest going on because it’s douchitude might overwhelm the senses of all of us (and prevent voting), but what the hell. It’s Monday, and I need a good ‘bag slap in the face.
What’s that?
Soc, you want to say something?
Socrates: All we are is dust in the wind, dude. Just like my D&G chained up douchitude. And while my Nordic flat topped friend may overwhelm, that’s no excuse not to vote for the HCwD of the Month.
Well said, Soc. Well said.
Monday, March 12, 2007HCwD of the Month: Olive Garden Edition
For kicks and hiccups some friends dragged me to an Olive Garden last night to observe the suburbanite Housewives of Douchebag County riff-raff in their natural habitat.
We ate the all you can eat breadsticks and salads. I had a bowl of oil topped off with some lasagna. Good times were ironically had, even as I slid home.
But what I do know is that what toe fungus is to the toe, Olive Garden is to the great food and wine of Italy. And having spent an incredible two weeks eating pasta, gelatto, proscuitto and melon, while chasing 19 year old Italian hotties on the south island of Lido a few years ago, Olive Garden offends me far more than any Jersey Guido does. So it is in Olive Garden’s douchey honor that we hold this month’s HCwD of the Month contest.
And really, is there a better way to spend a monday than voting on scrotey/hottie immoral, unholy and just plain icky comingling? This four pic smackdown of headache inducing douchitude and the hotties who love them is brought to you by Olive Garden.
When you’re there, you’re douchey.
HCwD of the Week Finalist #1: T Baggin’
One of a series of furry hipster bags to appear on the site over the past month, (see Beaver, Harry) T Bag represents the non-shaving Scruff Bag movement to a, well, a T.
And that perfect Malaysian hottie makes me long for sticky rice and papaya at Indochine on Lafayette Street back during my New York days. Mmm… good times.
I would wrap her in a grape-leaf while practicing tantric mandala sand painting. With each colored pebble I place during the excrutiating ten day process, I would chant my mantra to honor her boobie greatness.
Then I would watch as the currents blew the sand away, reducing my art to mere dust once again. And within that impermanence I would learn two enlightened notions:
1. I really love boobies
2. I really really love boobies
Namaste.
HCwD of the Month Finalist #2: Pumpy
A rapidly growing douche legend. But that rapid growth could be due to the ‘roids so potent my nads just shrank to the size of pygmy marmoset monkeys.
Pumpy won the HCwD of the Week contest on the pure strength of his roided up douche-face. And, of course, the primal boob grab, a rapidly developing douchebag tradition.
Hottie is cute and sweet and innocent. Sure when she opens her mouth she probably sterilizes infants with her pitch, but in pixelated form, she’s all good.
This pic is definitely a HCwD legend, and whether it wins the monthly douche-off or not, probably deserves a place in the Hall of Scrote. But that’s a vote for another day.
And by day I mean twinkies.
Mmm… twinkies.
HCwD of the Month Finalist #3: Stewbag aka Rod Stewart Douche aka Maggie Hottie
It’s hard to argue with Maggie’s utter lusciousness, and unlike some of the regulars, I’m thrilled she stopped by to say hi to everyone in the comments thread. And I’m not just saying that on the off-chance hope that she’ll get drunk and hook up with me when she comes to L.A.
Okay, yes.
Yes I am just saying that.
But I would punch hipsters at Sky Bar just for the chance to rub my shins on her tissue dress.
Rod Stewart ‘Bag is so many levels of wrong, I can’t even think of an appropriate metaphor for what I would do to that ‘bag. I would punch him in the face, then punch him in the face.
HCwD of the Month Finalist #4: Beastie Bag
So what-cha what-cha what-cha want?
Not this douche.
This is clearly a case where a stage-2 beastie bag hip hop wigga got a bump in the finals (over Ghost no less) simply due to the utter adorability of dark haired cutie. I’d slather her with mustard and enjoy with a side order of fries while watching the BoSox gear up for a spring training game on DirectTV. She is all-American hotness. I would love her perfect white teeth from afar, writing Patrarchan sonnets for each bicuspid.
There is something enjoyable about the trashy Motel 6 feel of the background. I can’t tell if it’s a halfway house, a z-level porn set or a University of Peoria field trip to see the biggest ball of yarn.
But enough of my rantings. Like the faux Greco-Italian fresco plaster of the Olive Garden, we can choose one, and only one, to rise up and accept the hallowed mantle of HCwD of the Month.
And I entrust that important vote to your hands.
What say you? Vote, as always, in the comments thread.
