I'll Take "Awkward Hair Kiss" for $400, Alex
Doe-Eyed Jenny’s youthful exuberance ticks the collective uvula, while Tattbro Jim plays in the D-League.
And by D-League I mean DOUCHE league! Heh, you didn’t see that one coming.
I need a coffee.
Heavy is the Douche That Tatts the Crown
But he is not a King yet.
And before you claim that memorial tatts should be respected, let me remind you that I have buried many a beloved alpaca out by the water vapor farms, and yet I have memorialized none of them in tattoo form.
None that is, except for Shminkles.
For Shminkles was the cutest alpaca of all.
Foolio's Crotch Warning is Literal
Maureen’s Spring Break took a turn for the worse when she thought Foolio’s crotch guns were a metaphor for gangstaism, not the herp.
Suzanne Brings Joy to Starving Children in Africa
And by starving children in Africa, I mean me, bored and on the internet. For she has the rarefied Mayan Eye of Repeated Night Coitus. I would prostate myself before her sweaty sports bra after a vigorous session of hatha flow yoga, chanting ancient Gaelic melodies in a squeaky falsetto, just for the chance to gum gnaw her sweatsocks while she complained about her abusive stepfather.
You do not want to look at what the Boba Brothers keep in their closets at home. Trust me.
Molester Mitch Approves of the HCwDB of the Week
Molester Mitch approves of anything that distracts while he employs “accidental butt brush fondle” strategy on barely legal bartender butt.
HCwDB of the Week: Brobot and Curvy Kelly
With a two week backlog of HC/DB combos of subconscious haunt, it wasn’t easy to pick a winner (loser).
For sheer choadles, It would have to be Buckles Jones. For sexy crypto-Semitic hottness, Naomi. For Vegas trash, Gozer the Fondler. For bad tatts, Tommy’s Shoulder Tatt. For hot breasteses, the second appearance (props to Wheezer for the call) of Boobster Connie, Tool Who Points, and Grinder Lizabetta. For crypto-gay rodeo clowns, Gus and Bud. And for moobs, Mooby Mooby Moo.
There was also Crownbag, perhaps the worst douchetatt of the year. Yech.
But I must pick a winner(loser). And so I shall.
And so it shall be Brobot for sheer punchface innovation and consistent douche-stare in numerous pics with a relatively quality gaggle of giggle hotts.
Although, to be honest, Skidmark and Sue could’ve won as well. Hmm. Can’t forget about that pic. That’s some toxic HCwDB shite right there.
Your Sunday Hopeful Horizon of a Better Tomorrow
Let the genuflection begin.
Comment of the Week: Purple punguine
Short and sweet, Purple punguine sums up American Scrotewank at its purest fraudulence in the Whole Lotta Shite thread, and wins the coveted Comment of the Week:
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As a former soldier and a combat vet to boot, am I the only one who finds the wannabe Dogtag bling offensive?
——-
No. No you’re not, P.P. You are most definitely not the only one.
But since the illustrative pic has no hotts, this one’s for you, P.P.
Or perhaps I should say those two are for you.
Friday Thoughts and Links
Chin pubes?
More like 70s chin bush by way of Rip Van Winkle werewolf Sy Sperling miracle gro Chia Pet Star Trek Genesis Project Doctor Who hirsute regeneration formula number nine.
Or something like hat.
And boobs.
Good bless the inner sideboob revealing dress. Take that Victorian Era!
Here’s your links:
Your HCwDB Book Pick of the Week: “In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.”
The great people of Chicago honor the late, great, Don Cornelius with an imprompu Soul Train dance-off. Peace, love and soul, Mr. Cornelius. Sorry to learn how much pain you were in, but may you find peace in the next world.
For a weekend geekgasm: Every Doctor Who Episode Ever in one montage. Zygons for the win.
Speaking of Who, a ‘bag hunter nearly had a whobag jumpoff heart attack when perusing the wine aisle recently.
New Zealand wins a major battle against Douchal Earth! Massive props to the Kiwis as the tide starts to turn.
Mr. Britney Spears fondles the Future Ex-Mrs. DB1. And a piece of my uvula dies.
A longtime fan of HCwDB asks us to check out his teenage son’s new photography website. and throw him some support. My readers have teenage sons?
When you watch the white rage in our political process today, read Jourdon Anderson’s 1865 letter to his former Master and remind yourself where it comes from. Condescending asswipes making jokes about “food stamps” because they’re still pissed they lost their slaves.
Champagne Katie at the Prom is the greatest image in the history of images.
Who says indie film is dead?
Uhm, yeah. Actually I do. I say it’s dead. Dead as Bingham Ray.
Speaking of indie film, the great Bobcat Goldthwait’s new movie looks genius: God Bless America (trailer). And it’s a cast reunion from One Crazy Summer.
Okay, here it is, you’ve earned it:
Mmmm… Eight slices of doughy pumperfondle.
