Thoughts and Links
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Friday, November 30, 2012
Friday Thoughts and Links
When a scarfed-up Mongor dates the hotter younger sister of that chick who had the babies with Paul Thomas Anderson, then it is on. So on.
So, uhm, yeah. The 2012 Douchie Awards. I’mma guess they start on December 7th. Which means I gots work to do.
But this awards show be small.
Drunken.
With dwindling HoHo supply to sustain.
Handing out a smaller batch of awards this year, as befits a one-joke blog in its sixth year of existence. But Douchies there shall be!!
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Hannukah Gift of the Week: “Strippers should be role-models for little girls. If only for the fact that they wax their assholes.”
Have years of douche mock influenced hottie natural selection?
Fan of hot French chicks? Of course you are. Fan of Swedish death metal? HCwDB provides for you.
Just the other day I was sitting around, munching my dwindling supply of tasty Hostess HoHos, and said to myself, “Self? What would an Egyptian Popeye look like?” And now I know.
When is a Rubik’s Cube not a Rubik’s Cube? When it’s yo’ momma.
If you haven’t seen this yet, enjoy the greatest prank ever played. Well, other than this one.
But you are not here for internet memes and illustration art. You are here for Pear. Enjoy:
For the organic pear that grows in the wild is always the choicest. More? Okay:
Sort of the karmic inversion of the bed pan. Unless you pee in it.
Friday, November 23, 2012Turkey Thoughts and Links
Captain Douchebag and the So-So Ladies of Amateur Wrestling (SLAW) says “Happy post-Thanksgiving day!”
Party Peen for the pungent putridosity.
Yup.
Got little to nothin’.
The Black Friday orgy of spending is noxious and toxic and reprehensible and all that is wrong with consumer culture.
And yet I drove to Best Buy this morning and bought a Galaxy tablet.
Because hey, when in Rome, spit on the baby Tebus like the Romans do.
Here’s your links:
When the DB1 participates in consumer culture, this is what he buys
Speaking of buying, if you’re buying lotsa stuff on Amazon this holiday season, be sure to click through the HCwDB links to Amazon and help support the site’s operating costs. In the immortal words of Blutarksi, don’t cost nothin’.
The best way to get into the holiday spirit in Miami? You guessed it. Dress douchey as shit.
Genesis of the Bleeth. With a hint of redemption?
Speaking of Florida, douchey-ass Camaro brings out the haterz.
Gilbert Gottfried reads 50 Shades of Gray.
Confused about Pears? Try this handy chart.
Okay, that’s it for links. You want your pear for realz:
And if that ain’t enough:
Don’t ever say I didn’t do nothin’ for ya, no triple negative.
Friday, November 16, 2012Friday Thoughts and Links
Today is a dark day. An awful day. With only a glimmer of hope.
There can be no mocking of douchebag and lusting of hott without appropriate sustenance.
I may start hoarding. Test the hypothesis of the Twinkie. Pretty sure I can get at least a two year supply if I fill up my basement.
For shame, America.
This is no way to treat your citizens.
Twinkies define us.
They lighten our spiritual load.
They offer an ease of caloric intake without the need to excessively chew.
I will miss them like a limb.
I will mourn them like a brother.
I will get drunk in their honor tonight.
Here’s your damn links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Sugar-enriched flour, partially hydrogenated vegetable oil, polysorbate 60, and yellow dye number five. Just everything a growing boy needs.”
That’s a big Twinkie. RIP.
Okay, I need to shame myself out of the doldrums with some British Secret Pear
So Hollywood put my movie in turnaround but greenlights this?
Speaking of Hollywood, here’s a first image from Star Wars Episode 7: A New Douchebag
The absolutely brilliant and vastly ahead-of-its-time The Ben Stiller Show had a twenty-year reunion Q&A at the New York Comedy Festival. Shut yer stinkin’ trap!
Okay, you’ve earned it:
Go forth. And build a new post-Twinkie world.
Friday, November 9, 2012Friday Thoughts and Links
Might be time to put The King of Sears aka The Starry Blight in the Hall of Scrote. Just too much epic douchery over too many years.
And Hello Kitty Hott’s strange attractiveness has its own magnetic pull, despite her attempts to hide her white trash trailer park background like Clarice did in front of Hannibal Lechter.
Together, they make custard poo.
Your humb narrs enjoys post-rainy L.A. and dances in the falling leaves of his tree.
For the mail has come. More Netflixed 1970s -era Doctor Who.
It’s the little things in life.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Broadway Musical CD of the Week: “In this part of Africa, we ALL have a saying – whenever something bad happens,
we just throw our hands up to the sky and say HASA DIGA EEBOWAI!”
White People Mourning Mitt Romney. Schadenfreude, thy name is sad anglos.
Now that Romney has more free time on his hands, I’m hoping he can go back to retroactively baptizing my relatives who died in the Holocaust into the Mormon faith in secret creepy-ass bathtubs in Utah.
Think I made that last thing up? Ask Mormon Anne Frank.
Okay, that’s it on current events. Back to the mock.
Ever wonder what Peter Pumpin’Head and Mary Mammageddon would dress up as for Halloween? Now you know.
Ever get the feeling the DB1 is totally out of comedy ideas and is simply recycling characters over and over again? Well aren’t you the clever one. Have some Champagne Katie with fellow hotties.
Europeans love their Pear. I don’t know what that sign says, but I like to imagine it’s a protest against public loitering.
Nothing says mofo badass quite like The Young and the Restless logo.
As to my upcoming art show at the Guggenheim in 2023, I have a new piece I’ve been working on for awhile. I call it “Benzio Du Horse #37.”
How’s about some pear?
More? Okay. You’ve been good.
Relax with lake pear. For Friday has come again, as it does 1/7th of the time.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012Random Thoughts on a Wednesday
Your humb narrs is still in post-coital repose after yesterday’s events.
A sip of the ole’ Train takes me back across the years, through the halcyon know-nothing days of the New York gogo 90s. Through the fog of dancing Bushdom oohs. And through my Westward Ho search for gold in them there hills.
We stand at an interest moment in time and space. Strange days indeed. Most peculiar, mama.
My Trader Joes cereal obsessions, which form the core deep thoughts of most days, have shifted to this weird hybrid dried fruit and Cheerios mix. But oh so tasty.
The old lady who lives two doors down got hustled by some aggressive Mexican tree trimmers who told her that she had to remove a giant tree from her front lawn because it had magic alien fungus dust on it, or something. So the chainsaws have been roaring, and a beautiful tree comes down after a hundred or so years of living.
Trees into wood into chopper into cash.
A perfect metaphor for the eternal churn.
I still rent my movies from Netflix rather than stream them, and something tells me that’s an important totem of generation gap and aging. The kids would never bother with such an unnecessary addendum added to the ritual of media consumption.
Hark! Suck it, Romney. A new day dawns.
And you probably read none of this because, hey, Benzino bites a Pear.
Friday, November 2, 2012Friday Thoughts and Links
Comin’ up on the 2012 Douchie Awards! Everyone grab a boob!
This year the Douchies will be more of an intimate, small, homegrown affair. Just a few primary awards and a celebration of all the wit and wisdom in the threads that graced this site for another year.
Your humb narrs is figuring life out at the moment. Some projects ascending. Others crashing and burning in a haze of Hollywood sunshine.
Some friends up. Others down.
Rising and falling on the whispered winds of hype and imagination.
Seventeen years since your humb narrs was a doe-eyed NYU film major. Back when the future was bright, something something shades. Back when film smelled of glorious chemicals, and video was for local news. When woo hotties ran free on VHS in your dorm room without fear of internet infamy or public shamings.
Ah shit. I’m gettin’ all pensive and nostalgic again. Gotta punch myself in the groin, down at least three bottles of the ‘Train, and take it home with some Hostess Fruit Pie goodness.
Ahhh…
There. That’s better.
Here’s them links:
Average 25 year old British woman lives at home, hates her job, and has bad sex. Captain Obvious flies in and says, “What’s all this, then?”
Long time HCwDB reader SuperNorm produced a strangely hypnotic douche video four our amusement and edification.
Reader Douchey Wallnuts sings the praises of last week’s Baron Von Goolo week.
Even on Halloween, Champagne Katie can’t avoid the Batdouche.
Meanwhile, Benzino trains for the 2012 Douchie Awards.
Breaking: Peter Pumpin’head rides the subway, annoys old Asian guy.
And the Unholy Grieco pukes on canvasses.
Speaking of douchal legends past, when even country singers are calling The Mayerbag a douchebag, the case is closed. Bangin’ Katy Perry for the clincher (see: Brand, Russell).
While eagle-eyed master thespian Wheezer caught a surprising casting announcement for Bill and Ted 3. Yup. The Kadebag.
But you are not here just for a rundown of douchal legends and their latest scrotescapades. You are here for Pear. Here you go. You’ve earned it:
But yet so on-ramp. Or rump. Or butt.
Friday, October 26, 2012FRIGHTDAY THOUGHTS AND LINKS
Look at those two kinda regular looking guys. And all those hot chicks. Man, there sure is something douchey going on here. Ha Ha!
Aaaaaaand I’m spent.
But soon, dozens of young ladies in their slutty costumes will be parading their lady business about my magnificent FrightTown. I must rally. For the good of the children.
BVG DVD Pick O’ The Week: Oh hidy ho officer, we’ve had a doozy of a day. There we were minding our own business, just doing chores around the house, when kids started killing themselves all over my property.
Who’m I kidding? I can’t pick just one.
In general I am not a fan of horror movie remakes, what with Michael Bay being the Great Satan and all. There are, however, exceptions to every rule.
This will either be the worst movie I’ve ever seen or the greatest movie I will ever see. Either way, I bet I eat a bullet when the credits roll.
Ahmunna start my Christmas shopping today.
We’ve talked a bit about slutty costumes going too far, but that is not to imply that I am against sluttery in general. Au contraire. It can certainly be done right.
Perhaps even with a dash of the ol’ ultra-slutty.
Another thing about slutty costumes: they mostly come at night. Mostly.
But remember, ladies: when you’re preparing your slutty black cat costume, improper tail placement can send the wrong message. Unless you’re wearing it for a room of visiting German businessmen. Then you’re probably fine.
Werewolves howl,
And vampire bats flap.
This poem blows.
And as long as we’re on the subject, you poor readers have put up with a fair share of abuse and an unfair share of my self-absorbed rambling this week. You deserve a reward.
Bah! That couldn’t possibly sate you. Open wide, now
and lest we lose sight of the season, Jack O’ Pear.
(*sigh*) I guess I’m just a romantic when you get right down to it.
Friday, October 19, 2012Friday Thoughts and Links
A word of warning when douche hunting in the wild:
Jesus Bling + Ed Hardy Jorts are far more potent when mixed together than when mocked individually.
It’s kinda like Pop Rocks and Coke.
Taken separately, they’re both tasty snack treats.
Taken together, and they kill child actor cereal eaters.
Vegas Nicole has the white teeth and sturdy backbone of a former cocktail waitress at the Luxor, working the 2am shift. She has fought through many a situation, and yet yet taut suckle pooch remains firm.
For that, I respek.
And by respek, I mean nervously buy her a Bud Light Lime without saying what I really think of Bud Light Lime.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB K-Cup instant coffee tasty-ass selection of the week: mmmm… Mahogany…
Mmmm… Kunis.
Although Aryan Jennifer Lawrence is definitely making a run at the champ.
Mongor Find Pear. Unfortunately, the pear was not canned correctly and has gone bad.
Bronzer Fail. Poo laughs at you, Paleface.
And then there’s a dude who wants to pee in your butt.
Bored this weekend? Enjoy some mind blowing scientific discussion from the mid 1970s.
But you are not here for retro science. You are here for pear. And we got two choice selections on this fine Friday aft’. First up:
A stretch in time saves butt fondle. Next up:
It’s like staring into a reflecting pool wishing well. With butts.
Friday, October 12, 2012Friday Thoughts and Links
Mongor.
Still out there.
Still with glass head.
I’ve always had a thing for the sexy Chiquita mama hoochey areeba areeba hotts. I think it all began when I was a kid and I saw Bugs eat Carmen’s banana.
Wait. That didn’t sound right.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Amazing Documentary Pick of the Week: “If there was ever a hell on earth, it’s Dallas County.”
In the 80s, we found this sort of thing funny. Very strange. Bobcat’s charm is one thing that didn’t make the leap in the DeLorean.
Star Wars. Opening day. San Francisco. Hippies.
Twinkies lives! The DB1 may make it to 40 after all.
Mad Magazine explains why the war can never end.
File under “classy:” Restaurant urinals shaped like women’s mouths.
Details magazine asks are you raising a Douchebag? Still to be answered: Is Details writing derivative comedy columns?
Mecha Hineyho joins that douchey place in the sky.
You mirin? Own the swag.
iShredded. No really. It’s an app.
But you are not here for iShredded apps. You are here for pear:
Like four cuts of prime slobble chompy chew.
Friday, October 5, 2012Friday Thoughts and Links
Clownbags convincing uberhott knee suckle brunettes to dress in day-glo colors gives the DB1 a sad.
For the herpster mutations in our post Jersey Shore moment make the parking lot frolics and fist pumping fauxhawked orangoids of yesteryear seem quaint by comparison.
At least the phase-1 douche was easily identifiable.
The tropes grow more complex.
And so does the mock.
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB DVD Pick of the Week: “Didn’t you take economics? You could have had me for $49.95.”
Pear Pear. We’re not there yet. Don’t jump ahead. Earn it.
Shopping Malls in 1990. A time for which no nostalgia should be experienced.
The greatest big-speech-slow-clap high school movie moment in 1980s cinema history. (clap starts at 4:39)
The second greatest slow-clap high school movie moment in 1980s cinema history.
Hottie Malin Ackerman reproduces with a douchebag. There is no hope.
Poser British teen sent home for douche-hair. Hey, guy? Punk died in 1984 when Duke was shot. “Lets get sushi! And not pay!”
Okay, you’ve been good. But before we get to the Pear, here’s a little news pear:
All hail Brazil’s Miss Bum Bum pageant! And by hail, I mean the shmeckle meshpucha.
Enough. Lets get to it:
Tall and ubergnaw, as Howard Roark would want it.
