“Haaayyy-ayyyy” Guy Annoys All Within Earshot
On the upside, Hustler Sue’s made, like, at least six bucks betting “Haaayyy-ayyyyy” Guy she could pick up a Bud Light Lime using only her breasts and a midget assistant named Tuco.
On the downside, three American hikers are still lost on the Slopes of Mount Douchemore.
He Likes Turtles
Meh, I’d probably give Dave a nottadouche and a Halloween pass if he wasn’t drinking Bud.
Perfect enhanced Cleavite taut suckle tatt-free Sharona pushes the limits of Female Groin Shave Revelation to their flux capacity, and earns an approving nod from the gods.
Q-Bert Is Not a Gangsta, He Just Plays One in Vegas
Kimberly’s soft fuzzy sweaters are hypothetically too magical to touch.
Between six pound watch, junk-on-boobs violence, and the lime-green leopard speedos, Spandex Guy is outta there.
It’s… Superherpster!
Look!
At an indie gallery opening in Bensonhurst!
It’s a hipster!
It’s a douchebag!
It’s Superherpster!
No f-ing clue what all these fake glasses are about, but I do know that Herpsterism is one of the sneakiest forms of douchebaggery appearing in 2011.
As to the Herpsterette, pictured here, The Librarian Hott signifiers clashing with potential signs of Indie Bleething are the personification of the douchadox. The moment at which I both desire pooch suckle and yet am repelled by cultural blight on the same contradictory particle/wave duality.
A Douchebag on Halloween Is Like The Sound of One Hand Clapping
A metaphysical query as we consider HCwDB of the Week winnerTommy Pak and Maria on Halloween.
Or, as the fool once asked the wise man: Is it douchey for the douche to dress douchey on the one day it isn’t douchey to dress like a douche?
Herpster Frank Wears All Black to a Wine Tasting: Discovers Epic Side Boob
Little known fact: Boobies can never be ironic.
Yeah, Frank’s barely a ‘bag, might even be a notta, but hey. Side boob.
Reader Mail: When HCwDB Readers Meet in the Real World
In honor of last night’s Hallow’s Eve, here’s the story of what happens when HCwDB readers meet in the “real world,” featuring long time ‘bag hunter Jacques Doucheteau and legendary horrormeister Baron Von Goolo.
Note: The HCwDB pic accompanying this post is not Baron Von Goolo, nor Jacques Doucheau. So far as you know.
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DB1,
Tonight I had the honor of meeting face-to-face with Baron Von Goolo. I took the Mrs. on a road trip to Portland to experience the haunted houses of Fright Town, and was fortunate enough to run into the Baron, as he is the curator of the event.
I saw him first as he was perusing the line of waiting customers, eying his victims like a hyena circling mortally wounded gazelles. I approached him as he walked by me and asked him if Plinky’s mom was part of the exhibit, at which point a pleasantly surprised expression crossed his face upon the realization that the universe found it necessary to draw two HCwDB regs together for a chance meeting. I introduced myself as he thrust his hand forward to meet mine, and he wished me an enjoyable evening, with a wink and a glint in his eye before I entered the Portland Memorial Colosseum Exhibit Hall for no less than three of the Pacific Northwest’s greatest haunted houses under one roof.
After an hour of thrills, scares, laughs, and all around good fun, I ran into the Baron again on the way out, at which point I expressed my thanks for a fine Halloween weekend in pastoral Portland, OR. He assured me that Plinky’s mom may be featured in next year’s Museum of Horrors, though it may require a forklift and a couple tons of putrid horse meat to coax her into the building. He was obviously busy, and mentioned it had been a long day, so I didn’t bother him further. For posterity I did insist on snapping a couple pictures before heading out, to which the Baron graciously obliged.
For your personal enjoyment, I give you a picture of the Baron Von Goolo and myself, both looking our sexiest. Or at least as dashing as a pair of gentlemen can be while surrounded by a thousand screaming teenagers in the humid basement of a sports area with a bunch of volunteers in makeup. I was not wearing a costume which I suppose compromises my precious anonymity, so now that you know what I really look like I must remind you: that with great power, comes great responsibility.
Happy Halloween to you and the rest of the regs.
-Jacques Doucheteau
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Happy post-Hallow’s Eve to all HCwDB readers, whether long time or recently arrived. There was no greater tribute to the pop-culture impact of HCwDB than Von Goolo’s 2008 Douchebags of the Living Dead.
The Garglebag and Nadia
Oh sure, The Garglebag might be busting stupidhead and chin pube fungosity while cozying up to Nadia.
But it’s not like he’s got some garish multicolored body tatt or anything.
Doh.
Post Halloween Undies Poke
Your humble narrator is digging out of a haze of alcoholic post-Halloween candy euphoria, sugar wines, and group alpaca licking.
So while Fledershmidt spends his summer vacation on the Jersey Shore saying “Jawohl!” to Madschens like Mindy here, I’mma drink some YooHoo to recover.
Two-inch jean strips for the win.
Ask DB1: Halloween = Autodouche?
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Dear DB1,
I’m writing you concerning adults and Halloween costumes. It is my contention that anyone over the age of twelve who wear such costumes are Douche. The women who practice this seem to be living out some prostitution-fetish, submission fantasy judging by their slutty outfits. (Which I find acceptable, even admirable.)
However, grown men who engage in this behavior are either Douchebags or are apparently working out deep-seated childhood insecurities based on latent homosexuality.
Also, do you advocate the use of stool softeners in cases of chronic constipation?
Your help in these matters would be greatly appreciated.
Sincerely Yours,
Backed-up in Bloomington
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In regards to your first query, BuiB, absolutely not. Adults dressing up for Halloween is not douchey on any level, provided the costumes are in the spirit of fun and festivity, and not an excuse to act douchey by other means (see Chaz Osborne’s caveman costume in “Back To School”
Also, the chance to see boobie hottie suckle thighs dressed as nurses, kittens, and French maids is nothing to scoff at. Ever.
In regards to the second query, I might suggest a tablespoon full of linseed oil every morning before breakfast. Also, avoid eating too much bread and apples.
