Woke Up, Fell Out Of Bed…
Dragged a comb across my… GAH!
Reader Mail: The Douche Detection Formula (Excel Version)
Reader Herpe The Douche-Bug distills the West Coast Fratdouche down to its mathematical essence:
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DB1,
While out with my wife today at a wine festival in San Francisco we came across many different local douche bags all in various states of douchecomposition.
But one thing become very clear to us over the next few hours. They all shared some very simple commonalities that could be plugged into a spread sheet to help the lay person recognize a Grieco virus carrier and avoid them.
Below i present to you, the “Douche Detection Formula” (Excel version).
=IF(AND(OR({city}=”SF”,{city}=”Berkeley”),OR({male}=”emo”,{male}=”frat boy”)),”Douche”,”Human”)
While this works well in our area I’m sure it could be modified to be used across this great country of ours to help stem the tide, or at least identify those in need of involuntary sterilization.
keep up the good fight
Regards,
Herpe the Douche-bug
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Consider it an extension of the Holy Writ from Joseph Smith’s lesser work, The Book of Moroni.
Good work, HtDB. A worthy tag, indeed.
Bar Rafaeli Cuddles a Puddlestomp and Approves of the HCwDB of the Week
Bar Rafaeli is further proof of the perfect exotic boobie spackles of the Semitic Naughty Hebraic Taut Bobble Chomp.
Hers are the anti-Nordic genetic proof of Theodor Herzl’s vision come true in glorious technicolor 3D IMAX of my mind.
I would lick. Then whine softly.
Then cuddle my blankie. Then bite.
Then whimper.
Then run and hide and slap a penguin. And no, that’s not a euphemism for solo emissions. I really hate penguins.
Puddlestomp is paid to douche. But hey, I’m paid to mock.
HCwDB of the Week: Mutato the Bug-Eyed Freak and Sister Christie
Your humb narrs is still recovering from Friday’s news.
Nope.
I’m just not ready to live in a post-Twinkie world. But life goes on, I guess. And so does the mock.
For this week’s Weekly, we have a perfect example of douche aura. Where the sum of the hott/asswipe stench is greater than the tally of the douchetributes.
Sure there was The Purplippia and the Perfection of the Mandy Twins. And poor unemployed Mitch Dillon taking solace with Party Jenny.
Last week also saw visits from the usual ‘bags, Mongor and Early Pumpin’head.
But from the newbies, none were more mutant than Mutato the Bug-Eyed Freak. And no more Twinkie Hostess cupcake chompers than Sister Christie.
Chalk up the last Monthly before the 2012 Douchie Awards.
And your humb narrs for oatmeal.
Haunted Toaster
In many ways, the 1980s were a silly, silly time.
Comment of the Week: Jonezy
The great Jonezy describes the paradox of the real world crazy stalker chick in the Virtues of Shelfishness thread and wins the coveted Comment of the Week:
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She has the Eye of Crazy Stalker chick that says “I hate drama” and “my last boyfriend was psycho” before she tries to trap you with fake pregnancies, STD scares, and myriad unanswered texts where she hates you, loves you, hates you again, just wants us to be together because we’re perfect for each other, without nary a response, and then you have to change your number and perhaps even your address, and then she still contacts your family, all while she’s out banging some d-bags at the club every night to fill the void you’ve left… eyes.
.
Not that it’s ever happened to me or anything.
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Friday 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.
The End of Joy
RIP joy, humor, life, celebration, happiness, hopefulness, ambition, excitement, pleasure, reward, and purpose to my life.
This may not be worse than the Holocaust, but it’s certainly worse than the Armenian genocide.
Friday Haiku
Gabe smiles, because soon
They’re knocking him out with their
American Thighs…
Old School Seventies
Gary’s Head is not Hairiest
Thing in the Picture
— Flounder
Inhibitions drop
As do standards for sex romp
One time at band camp
— THEONETRUEDOUCHE
One piece bathing suits
Needed to hide huge bushes
Thank god for waxing
~~~~~
This picture is bad
Imagine what porn looked like
When photo was taken
~~~~~
Thick legged women
And guys with fros ruled the day
And people got laid
— DoucheyWallnuts
Before the term douche
was coined, bad decisions were
basic and hairy.
~~~~~
His belly is what
flesh-lights are made of. Keep that
in mind when you fap.
— Bag Margera
It hides the stash
In the fro or it gets the
Hose. The groovy hose.
~~~~~
They don’t get the crabs
Since the herbicide was sprayed
On her Monkey Hole.
~~~~~
Next frightening hair
Style after Farrah will be the
Dorothy Hamill.
— The (very) Reverend Chad Kroeger, Esq., Son
High score on Dig-Dug
Banged Orange Julius girls
Peaked in eighty-two
~~~~~
Juan’s weenus peeks out
From his epic Jungle Bush
Like a moray eel
— Ich verstehe sie ist heiß
DB1′s dad at
Camp Hayyawannafuckme
brings back memories.
— Dr. Bunsen HoneyDouche
This was taken back
When it was still hip to say
“Lets make whoopie, babe!”
— Capt. James T. Douche
The Virtues of Shelfishness
Yeah. Got nothin’.
Runnin’ low on pics here in the ole’ HCwDB homestead.
Might have to start doing some work around here.
Either that, or you get a steady diet of Mongor and Benzino pics.
Your choice.
Send in some premium mock, or the Twinkie gets it.
Wait, too late.
