Reader Mail
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Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Reader Mail: Douche Wayne Tags a Blurry Aquadouche/Aquahott Combo
Douche Wayne writes in with an excellent story of a blurry Aquatag:
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DB1 –
I must first apologize for the awful quality of this pic and I don’t blame you for not posting it. I’ve seen clearer pics of the Loch Ness Monster. Taken by Bigfoot. With the lens cap on. However, the point of this pic is not so much the visual representation of douche, but the location of the Grieco virus outbreak.
Where – The Maritime Aquarium in Norwalk, Connecticut (yes, Connecticut).
When – Pirate Day
I took my kids to visit my parents and attend Pirate Day at the aquarium. I’ve been there many times growing up and now my kids love it. As you may know I live in New Jersey, so I didn’t expect to run afoul of the Grieco virus while visiting my home state of Connecticut.
We were at the new shark and ray touch tank, I look across the water and first noticed boobies. Nice ones. Fake but tasteful, wrapped in shimmering peach-colored strapless silk.
I pegged her for late 30’s-early 40’s and hot in the face. A bit much for the aquarium I thought, but even rich CT milfs have kids who would enjoy such events. I would have swam across the seal tank prior to feeing time wearing only a codfish loincloth for the chance to pat her hands dry with my youngest child’s Huggies Pull-Ups.
I then noticed the “shiny building of a man” standing beside her, kung-fu grip around her waist, LITERALLY nibbling on her shoulder. Inappropriate, yet the bleeth had no qualms about the level of PDA or the countless youngsters bearing witness to it. Decked out in a black baseball hat (you can just make out the ghastly pattern on it in the pic) with either studs or rhinestones on it to hide the receding hairline, the ubiquitous skin-tight black Affliction T-shirt covering his overdeveloped pecs and black jeans covering his underdeveloped chicken legs.
If douchebags were trees, you could tell their age by the circumference of their biceps; he was at least 50, or a weathered 42. As bad as the pic is, you can clearly see his watch and arm tatts.
Luckily, my kids were engaged with a 5-foot nurse shark and didn’t notice the gorilla attack going on across the pool.
Most disturbing was that I wasn’t able to connect them with any children at the touch tank. Later on when leaving, I noticed them walking to the parking garage by themselves, without any children in tow. I am cautiously optimistic he had not procreated.
I guess even over-the-hill douchebags enjoy a day at the aquarium prior to a fun-filled Sunday night of fist-pumping in South Norwalk. No we know, and knowing is half the battle.
I remain,
Douche Wayne
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Wednesday, September 12, 2012C-Hott's Adventures in Hott Chickery and Asian Ballerz
Hottie party girl and all around Vegas adventurer, C-Hott, writes in with a first person account of her adventures in Asian Pimpin’:
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Yes I’m sadly one of the girls in this picture, it was this great idea of his “Lets have you two on each side of me and I’ll throw money around”
the results.. are the following photos
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Your intrepid reporter was on the scene with the important and hard-hitting followup questions:
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Are you the blonde or the brunette?
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And C-Hott’s response:
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Brunette. WE are actually engaged now haha. Three cheers for lesbian love.
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Of course. Of course you are. Does a story like this end any other way?
Wednesday, August 22, 2012Reader Mail: Brett is Upset
“Brett” writes in from an email account with a different name:
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to: douchebag1
subject: Delete please!!!!
Hi,
My name is Brett —– from Gadsden, Al. I’m emailing you from my friends gmail account. There are pictures and an article about me on your webpage.
I would like for you to remove them please! Also, I would greatly appreciate it if you could tell me who submitted the information or give me the email address that did it! Thank you!
Brett —-
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The email address that did it? Who really does anything? Can any of our actions really be construed as choice in this chaotic netherworld of worldly nethers we call the underwear trapeze of life?
I believe it was Ionesco who first posited the notion of the meaningless circuity of life itself impacting any claims to defining the lived experience via the accumulation of knowledge. And by Ionesco, I mean Tommy Lee’s self-aware peen. Which ain’t got nothin’ on what Berle was packin’.
Monday, July 30, 2012Reader Mail: URC is the Town Mascot of Marshalltown, Iowa
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DB1,
This is from Marshalltown Iowa – no poo here – at least not much. This town is hard, like Fort Worth, or Detroit minus the rappers and pawn bling. Yet the summer festival mascot is the Ubiquitous Red Cup. Is there a deeper, darker meaning to this – I see Tom Hanks, weird rituals, Dan Brown novels…? By the way, This is a tshirt hanging in the grocery store – so you know it’s real. Grocers don’t mess around.
– Edwin
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“Is this a douchey frat party?” “It’s Iowa.” — Field of Poo
Friday, July 27, 2012Reader Mail: Harry Palmerbag Laments a Bartender Hott
I received this cryptic email in my in-box this morning:
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I am concerned for the soul of Rockhell, my bikini bartender/hot center of my empty universe. She is a fan if Jersey Shore and douche cilture. I blame society. My soul is wearing thin like an Corono bikini bottom.
Yours (by that I mean hers)
– Harry PalmerBag
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Who knows how many hearts this mysterious “Rockhell” bikini bartender hath broken.
What I do know is that “Corono” bikini bottoms speak to us all. Even those with limited spelling ability.
Thursday, July 26, 2012Reader Mail: The Captain Returns From Vegas
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Db1
Back from vacation, lemme tell ya it was another freak show in Vegas, some kinda hair stylist convention, a weird hairstylist convention (a shitload of herpsters who turned their hair into cotton candy running all over the goddam place, and they were feeding these creatures booze, lots of it!)
Anyways long story short during my downtime at the airports I did some trolling and dredged up a few pics, Santa claus I’m glad to say doesn’t run with goose! and a herpster has broken the light barrier while giving a piggy bag ride to a hot.
CJTD
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Wednesday, July 25, 2012Reader Mail: HCwHD
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Dear DB1
I’ve attached a picture that has me concerned. As a cheeseburger I feel threatened by this photo and hope this is just some fad and not some new disturbing trend. I mean seriously where’s the love for the cheeseburger?
but on another note, hott in the black & white top looks like this isn’t her first go around with a plumb, juicy hot diggity dog.
Pic came from this article discussing faux geek chicks, which I agree with. Fake eye-wear is wrong!!
– John Largemans Cheeseburger
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Hot Dog penis jokes are as old as the day is long, and as swung as the shlong is hung. That being said, good work JLC, for as old, swung and schlong hung as hot dog penis jokes are, they still make me titter like a tweener on twitter.
However, there is room for only one top dog. And his name is Nick.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012Reader Mail: Sarah Tags a Carrot
PIC DELETED
Sarah writes in:
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Brett is a personal trainer at Gold’s by day, but when he goes out at night, he loves to wear his pink V neck tshirt all the time. In the first pic he shows his best douchy face. Just to support his douchness, I included his body building pic as well as another from 3 weeks ago with the same pink V neck and another hot chick.
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It is 2012. Pink douche-neck t-shirts are orange ‘roid tanning are both still out there. The battle most certainly continues.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012Reader Mail: Douchey Wallnuts Reports From The Front
The Legend that is D.W. files this report from the Front:
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DB1,
I have returned from a two-week sojourn to the Cradle of Douchilization, The Douche Motherland, the crossing of the Doucheris and the Bleethphrates rivers known as Douchopotamia; The Jersey Shore – Seaside Park.
There is but only one assessment that can be made. Society. Is. Losing. And at a rapid pace. The Rapid Decay Theory that is used to explain the decay of the planets’ magnetic fields can be applied to our society. What we get – have – is a situation where Societal Loss is occurring at an exponential rate and the end will not be pretty.
The classic douche of the past has been replaced by the freak douche – tattoos, multi-colored Mohawks, those big pierced ears things, a lack of hygiene.
The douche from the old days would be a welcomed site at this point in our devolution. He would represent a quantum leap forward from the new status quo. The few old bags that remain are not enough to stem the tide. We have lost.
Paradoxically, bleeths are in abundance. Certainly, there are freak bleeths, but they are still the distinct minority, and what we see are freak douches paired up with classic bleeths. As Mr. Spock might say, “Fascinating.”
Thank goodness for the trashy bleeths. Track suits. Poofed hair. Over-make-up. Mini-shorts. Tight skirts. Check, check, check, check, and check. But what are we to make of the divergent paths of doucheal evolution taken by the sexes? I don’t know, and I don’t care. As long as there are taut suckle thigh pooch bellys wearing skin tight, mini-clothing and super high heels I will be happy.
And by happy I mean I will have a boner. A boner, I says.
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Thursday, July 12, 2012Reader Mail: Jonezy Tags the HCwDB Book And Gets Some 23 y/o Suckle Thigh
Long-time regular Jonezy writes in with a report:
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Yo DB1,
Long time. Hope you are doing well.
I was walking in downtown St. Louis a few weeks ago, on their main strip, Washington Ave. I was pleasantly surprised to see one of the finest literary feats of modern man displayed prominently in their window. Take a look at the attached.
I can’t recall the name of the shop, and couldn’t really tell what the hell their angle was- was it an art shop, or a chic clothing retailer? Perhaps a hipster haven? Most of the shop was just empty white space, but I can get the name of the store if you’d like to know- Google maps doesn’t have it listed yet, so it must be pretty new. Anyway…
I was in Santa Monica last weekend. My buddy claims that Mom’s is the best bar in town- I think it’s just his favorite cuz he has a lot of luck there. I must admit, it was right up my alley. Not many d-bags, and tons of young hotties. And cheap, very boozy drinks. That’s pretty much all I can ask for.
I was pretty happy some 23 year old chick took me home with her that night- girls that young don’t come my way much anymore- but honestly, and I think this was actually my line to her, I was just happy to sleep in a bed rather than my buddy’s rock hard futon.
Jonezy
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And by your buddy’s rock-hard futon you mean paying for shelter like a homeless Greek bathroom attendant during the age of Hellenism.
Good work Jonezy, and I’m pleased to see St. Louis has such impeccable literary taste.
All hail the 23 year old who feels pity for the bedless man. Many a memorable night that await recall when we’re all eating pudding in the retirement home begin in just such a way.
