Sure there are the primo douchebags of utter douchosity we've celebrated here at HCwD. But then there are the regular everyday 'bags like last week's Whack a 'Bag. The average shmoes. They could be your coworker or your brother. They're once normal humans who gradually slip down the greasy scrote-road towards rank douchosity one spikey hair follicle at a time.

Case in point, this facial-pubed knob. From his annoying face to his spikey hair, the fact he's scored this princess can send even the best among us into fits of alcoholic drinking.

Or am I just looking for an excuse to drink?

Megods she's fantastic. I'd love her for at least a solid three minutes.

Here's a hottie in inverted Asian 'Bag Sushi Roll formation. These two skinny yellowtails need to be dunked in a giant vat of wasabe until their chopsticks fall off.

Hmm. Writing this entry is making me strangely hungry.

Blech. I haven't been this skeezed out since Arnold Schwarzenegger tickled a twelve year old Alyssa Milano in a swimming pool in "Commando."

Both cuties look like they're being tackled by a chimp. Look at this douchebag's hands. Are those even human? They're clutching at these two hotties like a shreiking rhesus monkey about to fling his poo.

I'm not sure what's going on with dark haired hottie's pirate look, but I'm willing to forgive her for offering up that grade-A rump for our persusal.

In analyzing which of these four utterly rank pics deserves the exalted HCwDotW honors, I like using the "anger" approach. Which of these four moments of douchitude, if you saw them unfolding live in front of you, would make you most want to jab icepicks into your eyeballs? Which unholy combination of pretty girl and skeezy douchebag would make you want to set fire to puppies?

Or use your own scale of douche-valuation. Is it purely the 'Bag? Or is it the level of hottie as well that affects your deductive process? How many extra points are scored for grease factor, loss of shirt and/or facial expression and 'Bag hand gesture?

The proper production of a truly superior Hot-Chick-with-Douchebag pic is like cooking a fine meal. One must have all the proper ingredients, but one must also prepare them in just the right order. Yes, there were douchier photos from the past couple of weeks, but just for grease and giggles, I thought we'd narrow it down to just the tonguebags.

So on that note, lets get to the scrotes.

HCwD #1: Whack a 'Bag

PIC DELETED

Average-Joe douchebags are the most intriguing because they're everyday non-factors who suddenly bust scrote just as the camera flashes. This lame yuppie knob thinks he's cool because he cornered a hottie and forced her to take a pic with him. For that he deserves our scorn. Not to mention a telephone pole shoved up his ass.













HCwD #2: 'Bag o' CHiPs




There's really not much to add about this pic since it went up last week. Other than it still makes me want to sucker punch a dwarf.

And I still can't tell where those ginormous mammaries make me excited or frightened.














HCwD #3: Lady in the Water (of Douche)


Nothing's more annoying than College-'Bags. It's bad enough they're getting such choice premium hotties, but when they rub it in the rest of our faces it just burns. This thick tonguebag with his douchey sidekick still rankles. And I've always had a thing for sultry hotties like this dark haired lovely.

Oh heck, who am kidding? I have thing for the entire spectrum of hotness. I'm an equal opportunity shtupper.


HCwD #4: The Mutant PoloBag



I almost feel bad for this puggy scrote. But then again, no.

From what little I can tell, this chicka is perfection, even if the hat suggests a moderate 'bag stage-1 Bleeth infection.




Special shout-out to The Warthog, who I promise will be making future appearances as a classic uber-'Bag. So what say you, people? Who deserves this week's honor?

Apologies if pop-ups began showing up on the site recently. I added a new banner company and apparently there was embedded pop-up douchebaggery going on that I didn't know about. I've pulled all the banners as I'm sick of their crap, so for now the site'll be ad free. Should run a lot quicker, too.

Douchebag ad-click companies are total ripoffs anyway. I'm looking at you, AdSense, you scrotey bitch.

Olay!

Well it's Saturday and since there's no hotties on the horizon for DB1 this weekend, instead I'll pass my time mocking a Eurobag.

Greasy EuroDouche definitely occupy their own special circle in Dante's Douchebag Inferno, somewhere between Popped Collar Izod FratBags and greased up Jesus Blinged WiggerBags.

This hottie has that Euro-sexiness where from certain angles she looks like a horse yet she still makes you want to douse yourself in melted Toblerone and gargle ricola just to touch the hem of her clogs. Not to mention the outstanding cleavite. Venice film festival winning standing ovation cleavite. I'd Spanish that Inquisition.

Hey, whaddaya want, Shecky Greene? It's Saturday.

Some have asked me, "DB1, what damage has this plague of douche unleashed upon us?"

And my answer is simple.

"Grasshopper, the damage is not hard to see. Merely gaze upon a gaggle of infected stage-4 Bleethed former hotties and behold the unholy power of the douche."

Here we see the devastation that this Typhoid Douchey has infliched on these four former cuties. Only pink bikini girl looks to have resisted the douche infection to some extent. The girls on either end are so overwhelmingly scrote they make me want to set fire to Miami. This is probably a good pic to end Friday with since my uncontrollable urge to hit this rank spew with a 2x4 requires alcoholic intervention.

Happy Friday, fellow 'bags. Another solid week of shining the light of truth on the unhealthy scrotes polluting the hotties of this world has come to a close. We are doing God's work, people. Remember that as you toast your Night Train tonite.

I can't tell whether BudBag is so ridiculously over-the-top ninnyliscious that he's douche, or if he's crossed over into some weird bizarro form of coolness. I'm leaning towards the NerdBag branch of the rapidly spreading 'bag tree.

He's the kind of scrote who shows up at the freshman kegger in full BudBag regalia only to get dunked in the ice-water backwash splooge at 2am by Chet and Biff.

Speaking of luscious abs, cutie on the right makes me want to take up belly dancing lessons. Both chickas look like BudBag's making them vaguely ill.

Thanks to greekbag for the pic.

Dy-no-myte!!

The only thing better than scoring a white chick while a sistah talks happily in the background is busting the 'Bag Hand Gesture #49, the sideways Dual Shocker. And once again we see douche-green make its presence felt.

This cheekboney minx could cause car accidents with her smile. I'd roll her up in a tortilla and dip her in salsa, then chisel Petrarchan sonnets in stone while licking her kneecaps.

Get ready, because next week's HCWDotW contest will be exclusively tonguebags, and this greasy skeezer will be one of the finalists. Look at this hairless CHiPs shiny chest wanabee. Dude, prancing around shirtless in a club with Eric Estrada sunglasses is not the way to snag a hottie.

Oh wait. Yes it is. Dammit.

(Yup, you know what that realization means... time to climb on board the 'train...)

I've really never been a fan of the giant fake pillows, and these are kinda scary. And yet, like Rosario in Clerks II at the donkey show, I can't look away. Although her abs are pretty fantastic. Mmm... soft abs. I'd rub Vicks VapoRub on them and allow them to clear my sinuses for an hour or two.

Making a nice 1-2 combo of utterly douche flip-hair with the last pic, here's Scrotey McPug offering up the innovative notion of combining his Jesus bling with his douchey shirt design. Gotta hand it to Scrotey.

Facial pubes just need to die a quick, painful death. I'm talking Sofia Coppola in Godfather III. Shotgun blast. I want to see Al Pacino bust some Stanislavsky level overacting over the death of facial pubes. Hoo-ah.

These healthy mammaries will someday keep a baby well fed. Were that baby to be me.

Look at ths glassy eyed muff-face here, with his retro-hipster shirt and spikey douche-hair. His Droopy Dog mug is Tex Avery cartoon douche.

I've always had a thing for that chick who played the foreign exchange student in "American Pie." That slightly cross-eyed and unconventional hotness that promises a really rocky 30s and 40s but looks oh so juicy in her 20s. Like this chicka. She makes me all sorts of happy.

Michael J. Fox 'Bag proves a little known fact: Pink "Killers" shirt, white sportscoat, stubble and the classic white double-ring belt, are...uhm... well, you know.

Chocolate hottie is good in all the right places. She makes me feel long for a HoHo.

I'm not really sure how to work eye makeup into the Douchebag Scoring System we're developing here at HCwD. Does a douchebag technically wear eyeshadow? Does that cross over into metro GayBag territory? Purple lips appeared to have lipstick and was undeniably douche, but does lipstick + rouge + eyeshadow cross over from 'bag to far murkier classification? Does makeup elevate 'bag to an uber-gay-scrote?

Yup. These are the thoughts that plague me.

That and how to score with the highschool seniors smoking cigs outside of Bennihana on a Friday night.

In my drunken stupor last night I realized that for some of you new readers, the terms we use on this site like "Bleeth" or "Cleavite" may not be fully clear. Since I've been too lazy to write up my long delayed Glossary of DoucheBagus Termus, let me know if I'm getting too obscure as we journey through the land of the bizarre attraction between hottie and utter scrote.

Also I added some new software so let me know if the site's lagging or if anyone's getting firewalled at work. My email, as always, is Douchebag1@hotchickswithdouchebags.com.
Or you can leave a comment in the comments section.

Or you can simply crack open a bottle of Night Train Express, America's favorite bum wine. Available at most Korean delis nationwide, Night Train Express is $1.99 of pure alcoholic bliss. Also available in Wild Irish Rose and Thunderbird flavors.

Night Train Express. Because the night isn't complete without the Train.

PIC DELETED

Here's another example of just how overwhelming the douche plague has become. Even those who don't look like a typical douchebag are suffering from the tell-tale signs.

A simple smile and this would be your typical suit wearing yuppie jerk trolling the stripclubs because he hates his wife. But busting Bag Hand Gesture #13 and tonguebag expression and douchebag status is confirmed. He is scrote.

I'm thinking of creating a carnival game like "Whack A Mole" only this guy keeps popping up. Winner gets a pink I-Zod shirt.

Welcome to the fat-bag... we got chubb and bling... we got everything that's scrote... we got scrub earrings... in the fat-bag... welcome to the fat-bag, watch him bring you to your kneeee-eee-ssss...

Damn, Axl Rose has hit hard times.

This petite little sunflower reminds me of those southern hotties with too much makeup and the sexy sun-dresses I always see in the Atlanta airport. Man I love the Atlanta airport.

Aw. Your profile is misleading, DB1. And to think I was going to have pity sex with you!

;)

Samantha

Now that is seriously cruel offering up the pity sex offer then rescinding it. C'mon Samantha, throw a 'bag a bone!

Okay it's true, I'm trolling Jersey while I dig for the more genius HCwD noxiousness that makes us all want to pick up a rifle and climb a tower.

Here's a little dash of the Garden State to help us all start our mornings with true zen 'baguousness. Think of this pic as a form of 'bag caffeine -- wakes you up but leaves you feeling jittery and slightly ill.

This pic is standard 'bag sandwich formation with sweat stain bonus. Toast your morning ho-ho to it's rank goodness. And let us all build a holy sacrifice to Ganesh to thank Him for the sleeveless-bra combo look on dark haired hottie here. I'd chew on that fleshy upper arm until jawlock rendered me punch-drunk and sterile.

It may be a costume party but AryanBag here is still utter wasp-douche. My question is what exactly is that dark stain under his eye supposed to be? Douchebag war paint?

The hair is particularly genius. I could grate onions on that spikey nest. Nerdboy in the back and standard dorm beer poster #42 round out the red-cuppiness vibe of the entire fiasco. Chicka looks underage, so I will only say I hope her parents come and get her soon, before Silk Fu here starts talking out a barka lounger with his "mad karate skillz."

Uhm.

It's hard to truly capture one's thoughts when in the presence of something like this. It is beyond words. Beyond description. It operates in a zone of pure primality. A place above conscious thought. A place of id-douche.

Do I comment on the Planet of the Apes 'Bag's bandana, hair, Jesus bling earings or silver shirt first? Or do I just kill myself?

This pic hurts me more than it hurts you. And I know it hurts you.

So lets all suck it up, feel for these two innocent hotties, and move on... stat...

Babagadouche has spoken. Babagadouche does not want to be on this site. And a community reels from the loss...

Ah well... there's more 'bags out there.

The tonguebag phenomenon remains a deeply troubling offshoot of the HCwD plague. A normal expression on his face and this douchebag on the left would only be a dude with a shmucky mug. But once he busts the tongue he crosses that magical ethereal line and becomes scrote.

I'm a big fan of this sultry young chicka of ambiguous ethnic origin and fleshy face. But seeing her in the classic 'bag sandwich formation just makes me itch.

Best email from a hottie ever:

i know this won't make your site since the chica is a 5, tops, but keep in mind this guy is a hardcore douche. i went to high school with him and he was a meathead jerk with way too much swagger considering his minsicule @#$@. i thought seeing him might make u smile at least, especially once i tell you that i took sweet, syrupy vengeance on this bagzilla after he dumped my best friend (she was at least an 8 -- can u believe that?) anyway, stumbling on these pics of my old pal ---- sure made me smile, and i hope you're doing the same. now if you'll excuse me, i got a gallon of jack with my name on it. i splurge on my booze; what can i say, i'm a bitch.
yours in christ,
- Hottie1

Dear Hottie1-
I think that chicka's way cuter than a "5." And any hottie who uses the words "bagzilla" and "gallon of jack" in the same email is my kinda honeyfly. Stay un-Bleethed and sexy, and may all your hookups be 'bag-free...
-DB1

(PIC DELETED)
Babagadouche isn't sure you fully understood the power of the Baba the first time around. Being an uber-douche like Babagadouche isn't easy. His 'bag hand gestures are like finely tuned instruments, able to express complex douche with merely the slightest flick of the wrist.

Balancing a hottie on his lap is child's play for Babagadouche. He laughs at your weak -ass wannabe 'baggery. He chuckles at your scrotey attempts to be like Baba.

(PIC DELETED)
Meet Babagadouche.

Babagadouche knows how to rock it old-school style in his aqua-blue boxers and matching shirt.

Babagadouche owns a pair of knicker styled pants. Babagadouche keeps them on his bed. But when Babagadouche wants to rock, pants are not needed. Just sneakers.

Babagadouche has a girlfriend. Someday, he hopes to kiss her. But in the meantime, Babagadouche rocks it like only Babagadouche can.

Do not stand in the way of Babagadouche. He will rock you until you can rock no more. So if you see Babagadouche, get out of Babagadouche's way. For Babagadouche has no time for non-rocking pants-wearing non-aqua-blue-boxered people.

He is Babagadouche. Love him. Live him. Know him.

Confirming once and for all that there is a God, and that God loves boobies, the hottie from Chubawumbag makes a welcomed return appearance here at HCwD. Here she is being molested by a skeezy Asian dude with semi-popped collar and a barren wheat harvest growing from his head.

This girl is Jenny Agutter in "Logan's Run" hot. Or for those of you who don't know the hotness that was Jenny in that film, think the nurse in "American Werewolf in London."

And that, my friends, is source-Cleavite. That which all Cleavite aspires to be.

Remember kids, as we do our walkabout through a life filled with the cruelty and injustice of the HCwD combo, we'll always have a place to come and mock. Send your best pics of hotties and the rank scuzzbuckets headbutting them to me at douchebag1@hotchickswithdouchebags.com. Cuz I'm way too sloth to go find these pics all by myself.

And next time you're in the mall and see a lime-green polo shirt, set it on fire. No really. What judge in the world would convinct you for that?

Ah yes, senior year. A time in life when young men and women celebrate the end of their high school years by signing each other's yearbooks, promising to keep in touch all summer, and attending the senior prom.

And what better way to seperate man from scrote than the prom?

Think of it as a defining split on the pathway of life. Some become normal human beings. Other dress as rank piles of steaming spew.

What's nice about these two is that when not attending the prom they're dressed in perfect military camoflage for hand to hand combat.

A reader snapped this pic recently as an example of all that is unholy and rank on campus these days. There's a mutant strain of 'bag out there. The apparent merging of the Polo 'bag virus with the tonguebag to form a mutant douchitude previously unseen. Like a douchebag version of the Bird Flu, hotties everywhere are as panicked as this young chicka that this mutant 'bag virus could spread across campuses nationwide like the Flannel Grunge plague of 1992.

A sweaty polo wearing tonguebag polluting an innocent fawn with his 'bagginess. It's almost enough to make a grown man weep. Or drink. And what's with all the lime-green clothing showing up these days? Is scrote-green the new douchebag-pink?

I get knocked down... but I get up again... because I'm total and complete douchebag...

How much does this pic burn? Scrotey McMohawk here just eminates the 'bag radiation in so many wrong ways. His mug screams for a fish-slap. He also appears to have "Happy Hannukah" tattooed on his neck.

This forlorn looking doe just begs to be rescued from her douchebag prison. She's out there, right now, being polluted with stinky 'bag virus. But does the DB1 do anything about it? Nah. I'll just sit here on my dirty rug, play my x-box 360 and have another bowl of Trix. Maybe tomorrow, doe, I'll come to your rescue. Maybe tomorrow.

From the depths of the deepest, darkest douchetude, out crawls this palmy muscle scrote. His mission: to infect peroxided beauties from Trenton to Newark. Like a plague of little Griecos, these armies of the 'bag stalk their prey at night, spreading their grease-seed across beauties far and near. Or at least to Jersey City.

His stubbly chin says "I am rank." His meaty arms scream, "I am douche."

Armani Exchange + Jesus Bling + Forehead Grease = Monday Morning Spew. But hey, at least you're awake now.

A day later and a wicked hangover still haven't diminished the uber-hotness of Pouty Lips in yesterday's pic. I would flay the carcasses of a thousand platupi just to spit in her general direction. Man alive, those lips are just perfection.

Anyway here's a classic tonguebag chaser to keep us cool on this hot-ass weekend. This spikey haired nudgenick needs to be dropped off a building into a vat of toxic waste so he can become... The Douchebag Avenger!!

How sweet is raven locks here? Snow white pure and tasty as a pancake.

This painful abomination is a nice pic to go out on a Friday with. When you're out and about in the clubs tonite, remember to toast your glass to Greeney McAsswipe here, a 'bag 'baguousness enough to pollute this gorgeous perfect-lipped vision to a Bleeth-four terminal infection.

And the lips? I would jump on a trampoline covered in vaseline just to taste the drool off one of those pouty pink pillows.

What did you do to her? For shame, Greeney. For shame.

Merry Christmas!!

This classic 'bag busts Jesus bling, greasy forehead and douchey facial expression with equal aplomb. I pray to Xenu that these two are his daughters, and judging by the classic 'bag hand-fear where he's afraid to touch them, they are.

The chickas could use a sammich or two, but otherwise, yes please.

Any lasting doubts about whether gaybags can be douchebags should be adequately quashed by this mindblowingly painful pic.

The pink neck-scarf is sheer and utter mindbending twilight zone scrote.

This boozy dark haired chicka looks like the perfect "last call" target. The one you position yourself next to right around 1:30 for the moment she realizes her friends already left and she doesn't have a ride.

But how to accomplish that when facing the dual gaybag blockade? I have no answer for how to break through this wall of gaydouche.

I went back and forth on whether the Donger here is true 'bag or not. The facial hair says yes. But I kinda dig the jacket and hat. The necklace screams douchebag, but the shirt's not too scrotey.

And then I saw the belt.

Douchebag Rule #86: if you wear a big white belt with dual metal holes, you is douchebag.

Douchebag Rule #86 can not be questioned. Douchebag Rule #86 can not be overturned on appeal.

And the fact he's pulling his hottie in for a classic 'bag headbutt seals the deal. He is 'bag.

She is just all sorts of long necked goodness. I get the strange feeling she's made a past appearance on the site somewhere. Or maybe the Night Train is kicking in.

This pic is "back to basics" here at HCwD. Like blue-jeans. Or getting drunk and banging an ex-girlfriend you never really liked all that much. Every so often we gotta go back to the well and see the source-douche and classic uber-hottie comingling in all their unholy glory in perfect pictoral example.

Tell me that's not an engagement ring on this glowing ball of perfection. Or, more likely, it's Hot Chick Defense Mechanism #06, the fake wedding ring to keep the other douchebags from hitting on her and making PrimeBag feel insecure.

Although if I looked like blue-scrote here, I'd feel insecure 24/7. Yes, DodgerBag, it's true. You're. Going. To. Lose. Her.

(PIC DELETED)
We need a special circle in douchebag hell for the scrote who shows his hottie a good time by plying her with Tostitos while wearing a Lucho Libre mask.

If I spoke Spanish I'd use many descriptive words for this chunk of wine guzzling spew. But since I don't, I'll just call him a "douchebag" and call it a day.

This chip chewing minx is just one big ball of hot. That silver belt-buckle thing makes my knees weak.

Ever wonder what happened to your 5th grade science teacher, Mr. Johnson? Here he is, trollin' for the hotties.

Admit it, you always knew Mr. Johnson had a thing for younger women. Like when he would pay special attention to Suzie after class. Well here's your proof. You go with your bad self, Mr. Johnson!!

That shirt is genius.

Intrepid 'Bag Hunter T Bag sent his posse out into the greater Houston area and came back with this rank, nipple exposing tatbag and his cutie girlfriend who finds him just high-larious.

I can't tell which makes me more furious, the fact he thought a tat this douchey would look good surrounding his nipple, the fact he's exposing that tat in public, or his folded cuffs.

This blondies teeth are very, very white.

Had dinner with my ex the other night. Here she is looking slightly befuddled as I make 'Bag Hand Gesture #12 for her while taking the pic.

Always remember kids, even The DB1 occasionally gets a HC. Even if she dumps his ass, only to go out to dinner with him a few months later to tell him about her new beau and his sexy greased hair and tats. Stupid hot chicks.

Her new boyfriend is uber-douchebag. If I get my hands on a pic, I'll prove it.

I'm pleased to see the cast of the Albequerque Hills Dinner Theater production of Rent is out and about having a good time.

Scrote on the left looks like Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. Rosario Dawson Hottie makes me happy to be a man. And then... that thing. Two tiered shirt combo. It hurts.

Dear God, it hurts.

Ever wonder what a douchebag looks like naked?

No. Me neither.

But we're hear to suffer the slings and arrows of society's madness. And so we must look. For the love of God man, look!! Behold!!

It is scrote.

I may be getting some crap for letting the "D" part of the equation outweigh the "HC" part. But I enjoy this plump chicken very much. And nothing says "party" like 1 liter glasses filled with Tang.

C'mon kids, sing along!

It's a douche of hair gel,
a douche of grease,
a douche of neckglasses,
and a douche of more grease.

A douche with earrings,
and a douche with bling,
A douche who needs a beating,
With a shovel and a punch to the face...

It's a small 'Bag after all...
It's a small 'Bag after all...
It's a small 'Bag after all..
It's a small 'Bag after all...

No other way to describe these two slobs than "crabs." And I don't mean the kind you find at the beach. I'm talking the kind that require a special shampoo and tiny comb to get rid of.

Dig these Mutant 'Bag Gestures that are off the scale. If you poked three holes in their back we could bowl their saggy asses down a lane.

And dude, tats up you arm aren't going to make you any cooler. You are FatBag. There is no recovery from FatBag.

It was a tight vote this week, but Purple Lips pulls it out. As ten degree hat puts it:

Even though the hottie with No. 3 is amazingly pretty and I can't look at No. 2 without bursting into laughter (or are they tears), the only true DB is the greezy, purple-lipped manscaped turd, No. 4. In spite of the not-so-hottie with him, he is the clear winner.

I liked the thinking displayed in the comments section, some good intellectual debates on the power of the hottie/scrote combo are beginning to emerge. Not just about what defines the douchebag, but how the douchebag and hot chick intersect to form differing levels of spiritual violation.

'bag o' bones posits that we should vote from our gut by which image impacts us the most if we were to see it in real life. Thus, purple lips here might make us laugh, but Pocahontas with the Sewage Sausage would make us wince in agony. Or as douchezilla calls it, "The Anger Factor." I think this plays a key role in our deductive process.

mickey o'douche is beginning to sort by category, noting that our four choices break down along genre lines: guido-'roids douche, oldie douche, missing link douche, skeezie douche.

Mullet 'Bag represnts that painful and creepy douchebag who haunts most places we go to. That middle aged skeeze who's pushy enough that he occasionally convinces hotties to hang out with him, but generally just creeps everyone out. Cro Bagnon is just a magnificent everything. But I can see how he's more of a one-off, a freak of nature. Not really indicitive of the larger HCwD plague infecting our world.

I'm also glad we got to give Pocahontas some more love. But there really is no topping this purple lipped monstrosity. Props to Purple Lips for taking the Grease-Cake.

Ya know, drunkdouchebag and Art of the Douche are right, that douchebag in that last pic is a full-on douchebag. I can't believe I didn't notice the popped collar.

And as DD observes, anyone who wears those letters/numbers-in-random-combos things deserves our utter collective scorn.

He's not overwhelmingly scrotey, although the 10 degree 'bag hat tilt and chinny grin don't help his case. But she is fantastic. I loves me the dark hair on one side. It's so early 80s Til Tuesday "Voices Carry."

And that sweet smile of hers could kill puppies! (Wait, killing puppies is bad. I need another example.) That sweet smile of hers could make DB1 want to rub up and down on his sofa-chair arm! (Well, it ain't Faulkner. But whaddaya want for a drunk unemployed 'bag sitting on his rug?)

Note the mysterious hand pulling her away from the semi-'bag. He knows what's up.

Anyone who's a fan of the greatest video game in videogame history, Mike Tyson's Punchout!, knows exactly who "Glass Joe" is.

And he's this scrote right here.

Uppercut!...

Right!...

Left!...

Uppercut!...

Uppercut!...

And he's a douchebag!!!...

Well we're way overdue for one of these things and we've had many worthy candidates the past few weeks. Special shoutout to Gramps who's fast becoming a folk hero around these parts. Narrowing the HCwD explosion of unholy muckitude down to four pics wasn't easy (I'm saving Polo Boy for his own special category) but here goes:

Douchebag #1: Mullet 'Bag



What else can I say about this skeezy sourpuss? The only thing going for him is he kinda looks like my favorite comic, the late great Bill Hicks. Other than that, I want to shove lit matchsticks under his fingernails while forcing him to read Kathie Lee Gifford's "Reflections and Meditations of God's Gentle Grace" (a real book). The uber-hotness of this angel elevates the pic for HCwD of the week considerations.










Douchebag #2: Old No. 7, aka Cro Bagnon



Holy crap. I forgot about this dude. Maybe because the image of this guy waiting outside my front door to snap like a twig is not one I need to carry with me.

He is just unreal. To whomever sent in this pic, I owe you a bottle of the 'Train.

But the hottie, while very sexy, isn't up to the level of the hottie in candidate #1.

Hmm.

How does that affect the HCwD crescendo? What different vectors are involved for the unholy intersection of hottie with 'baguousness? These are metaphysical questions best left to scholars more erudite than I.



Douchebag #3: The Sewage Sausage



I had to include this tampon if for no other reason than my sinful lack of inclusion of his hottie in our HC contest. A shameful moment of neglect for which I am due much penance.

Megods she's beyond sexy. And he makes me itch.

Behold!

The pain of the HC with D in all its noxious glory.






Douchebag #4: Purple Lips



Sure he's... well, essence du douche. But she's not remotely as hot as the other hotties here. So what to do? Does his greasyness overwhelm? Or is the perfect zen balance of the ultimate HCwD formula thrown too off-kilter to ascend into douchebag nirvana?

You be the judge.

What say you, people?

HCwD of the week contest tomorrow! Now the DB1 passes out in a drunken stupor.

T Bag writes in with a great suggestion:

Hey DB1,

Hope the Night Train is treating you well. Getting ready to hit the bottle myself real soon. I captured this gem at a hot new sushi place in Houston last night. Have fun with this one...

By the way, my friends and I were talking and have a suggestion. We think you should consider adding a new section to the site detailing with how to capture a picture of a HCwD. You could call it “Capture a Bag” or something of the sort. The premise involves how to take a picture of a complete bag with uber hotties when you don’t know them. For instance, I did not know this bag, or unfortunately, the hotties either. However, after a brief quip about how I work for a Houston based magazine and wanted to get a picture for my article chronicling hotspots about town, they were more than willing to oblige. You get the idea... Just a thought.

Once again, really appreciate all your work and all the levity you bring me during the week.

All the best,

T Bag

So any intrepid 'bags out there wanna take a crack at snapping their own pics of a HCwD combo? Send it in with your summary of how the pic happened and you'll win... well,... a hearty handshake? Hey, I'm on a budget, what can I say.

d to the douche sends in this hilarious music video featuring this creepy facial haired scrote busting out the uber-douche. Dig it:



Yeesh?

Yeesh.

I feel dirty. And not dirrty dirty. Just dirty.

I know what a lot of you were thinking. "Come on, DB1! That Sneery McGrease was not a douchebag! He was a regular guy! Cool as ice! Nothing remotely scrotey about him."

I know, it was tough to tell. The signs were subtle and hidden.

Well in case you were still on the fence about Sneery, here's another pic to help sway you. Busting 'Bag Hand Gesture #06, Sneery finds himself in the rare and hallowed Tri-Hottie Inverted Sandwich formation.

As to the ladies on either end, I don't know what those arm things are, but they make the DB1 feel sweaty and feverish. But that could be the meds.

In the game of life, this greasy chinny douchebag wins.

Does it make you mad? Want to rip out your computer and throw it against the wall? Want to defecate in his forehead grease-gel?

You're not alone.

Okay, I'm officially pissed again.

This sleeveless scrote with the painted on eyebrows does not deserve this peroxided cutie on his arm. He deserves a weekend in federal pound-me-in-the-pooper prison.

His facial hair is made up of tiny douchebag robots that cling to his face. Depending on the level of 'baggery, they move around and form new patterns. The current pattern is called "The Vertical Scrote." It's Nano-techdouchology. The latest in cutting edge scrote hair.

As to hers, they may be fake, but I dance to their majesty.

Tell me this creepy, cape wearing tonguebag doesn't look a bit like that guy on that show "House"?

That's really the only reason I ran this pic. That and I wanna knock stubble tongue here off this plump little cutie with a brick.

Hope your weekend is rockin', hottie filled and 'bag-free. If anyone finds any pics out there as priceless as, say, Polo Boy, send it along to me at my email address, DB1. And if you find yourself in a pic and are upset, email me as well and I'll take it down (although I haven't had a takedown request in weeks). Or just drop a line to say hi. If you're a hottie and would like the pleasures of a backrub from DB1, send a pic as well.

I've got some great pics in the pipeline for next week. But since it's the weekend, I drink. Actually I drink during the week as well. Some might say I have a drinking problem. I'd say I have a "drinking solution."

As we head into the weekend, I gotta post this pic one more time.

It's just... fantastic.

I'm still speechless.

Your assignment over the weekend is to meditate on all that is douchey in our world these days. The beginnings of douche. The viruses that allow douche to flourish and spread. What is it in our world that can create a raging scrote like the herpes sore in this pic? Where have we gone wrong as a culture? What penance are we being forced to perform? What dark paths are our souls traversing that leads us to allow these sorts of monstrosities to exist, let alone attract hotties?

Is the douche some form of plague, set upon us by an angry God? Locusts and frogs weren't enough, and so God sent the douches to infect and invade our populace to teach us that we've strayed from the path of righteousness. Could that be it?

Meditate on this perplexing dilemma. And perhaps we will find HCwD enlightment as we journey onward. Ever onward.

I can't rag on Gramps too badly because when I'm 106 years old I wanna be out cuddling with a squeezeball this juicy. But what's up with the ears? (Must... resist... obvious... Star Trek reference...) He's a Vulcan 'bag! (dammit... too much Night Train has taken its toll...)

Seriously though, ya gotta give it up to Oldie here. Gramps is busting the sexy 70s shirt and even has a stylin' necklace that says "I may be old, but I can still awkwardly put my arm around the waist of a hottie and only touch her with the tips of my fingers."

The Cleavite represents all that is holy and righteous in the universe. It is source-Cleavite. That which all other Cleavite aspires to be.

And then there are mornings when I wake up in a good mood, see a pic like this, and want to start pounding nails through a board with my forehead.

This uber-douche needs his eyebrows shaved and his baseball cap set on fire. If there is any justice in the world. Chicka has that MILF thing working, which is good by me. Heck, I'd take a GrandMILF these days.

I can't tell if the douchebag in the back has a cigar in his mouth or if he's spitting up his cud. Either way, I wanna toss both of these knobs into the octogon and let 'em fight it out, UFC style.

The DB1 is having a nice, relaxin' Thursday. Had a fantastic Thai massage rub at my favorite place in Hollywood (no tug, the DB1 is way too cheap). Now I'm kickin' back with my alchy and watchin' the Sox/Oakland game on ESPN. Which reminded me of The Canseco 'Bag.

Canseco 'Bag is the template for all that is douchey in pro sports. Essentially the sports version of The Piscopo, this greasy former mullet-head deserves his own special section in the celeb HCwD Hall of Shame. I'm not sure who this hottie is, but there's no doubt she headed for the hills as soon as the pic was over.

So toast your Night Train to Canseco 'Bag. This future star of Guidos Gone Wild makes me feel oily just looking at him.

Well the votes are tallied and the results are in. Congrats to "Beauty and the 'Bag."

I had a feeling this lovely model type would win. I think she caused a few suicides when she first appeared on the site back in May.

2nd and 3rd place were extremely close votes, with second place getting mentioned on 21 ballots and third place on 20. However if I weight them according to which position they were listed, 2nd place scored "47" and 3rd place scored "38" so maybe it wasn't as close.

I agree that "Pocahontas" deserves some love and probably should've been on the list. We'll give her an honory award. Especially given the scrotiness of that sewage sausage she was with.



Coming in 2nd Place was another fan fave from a few months back, "Rock On!!" which originally ran in late April:



Hard to argue against perfection. This gorgeous honey has it all. Beautiful face, smile and body. And a rank hair-scrote to her right.






And just behind in 3rd place, another Euro model-type, this one featuring some of the greasiest Euro'bags this side of Beckham, "The Da Douchey Code" from mid May:




Hard to argue with any of these choices.

I'm pleased to see my discerning readers go for the brunettes and the natural types (I'm a big fan of both). Although there may be some debate whether or not 2nd place blondie is natural or not (I'm voting "natural").

Good work, all! It was time we showed the HCs of this site our love.

Head.... exploding....

Ya know, this one really speaks for itself.

Yet another skeeze-scrote crashing a HC scrum. Nice to see 'Bag Hand Gesture #51 make another appearance here on the site, as Cletus the W.T. 'Bag makes his presence known.

These four Tara Reids are dirrty. Even if Tara Reid #4 on the right is showing early stage Bleethitis in her left arm. Still curable, tho.

HC voting down below is still open, so get any last minute votes in..

I don't normally post pics of two chicks here at HCwD... oh wait...

What the hell is that clump of weeds doing growing out of this dude's head? I didn't know that was biologically possible. The facial pubes, designer asthma inhaler and silk concubine shirt make me want to write "balls" on this wank's forehead.

I love Pearl here. Elegant. Refined. And with a belly I would boil eggs on. She good.

After the overwhelming hotness (and 'baggy stench) of that last entry, here's a nice little palette cleanser for a Wednesday afternoon. We all went to highschool with sacks like this. Sleeveless wannabe rockstar types who gets the daddy's girl who wants to be "baaaddd." I just love this pube's expression. He's either crapping his pants or she just grabbed his package. Can't tell which.

Mullet? Or not a mullet? I can't tell.

Anyways, be sure to vote for your fave hotties below if you haven't already. Especially the HCs who read the site, we need some female opinions in there. Just click on the "comments" section, you can even post anonymously. I'll leave the voting open for another day or two.

Maybe we can pair the winner up with Glinty for a date. Chuck Woolery can host it. We'll call it "Douche Connection."

Okay fellow 'bags and hotties, here it is. My top ten sampling of some of the most gorgeous examples of female peachitude to appear on the site over the past few months. Now remember kids, while voting is primarily about how hot the hottie's hotness is, factoring in the douchebaggery of the scrote is also encouraged. You can find pics of hot chicas all over the web, but when we find 'em rotting next to a greased up leech is when it becomes our own special form of torture art.

To make things fair I eliminated all pics featuring two chicas, as that could get way confusing for my wine-addled brain. All votes/comments should include THREE, count 'em, THREE choices, in ascending order with #3 being third favorite, #2 second, and #1 your top hottie pic. Then we'll tally up the top three and do a HC faceoff. Remember you can always click on the pic itself to get a better look (if it looks pixely on the site).

Holy Xenu, these are some seriously hot chicas. (Can anyone tell me if #3 and #4 are the same girl?) Vote now, fellow 'bags. Let me know who you think is deserving to wear the crown of hottest hottie to be caught posing with a douchebaguous douchebag.

Hottie #1:
















Hottie #2:
















Hottie #3:

















Hottie #4:





























Hottie #5:














Hottie #6:















Hottie #7:





























Hottie #8:

























Hottie #9:


























Hottie #10:

So when does wearing a ridiculously idiotic pair of sunglasses pass from a trend into a defining primal source of douchebaggery? Every time I think I've seen a pair too ridiculous to top, another pic sends me off into a slow burn. Like this scrote. Not to mention his facial pubes kind of resemble the Bat Signal.

I kinda dig the Eurotrash look on the chica, even if her sunglasses imply a solid stage 2/3 Bleeth infection. Looks like a direct sunglasses-to-sunglasses spread. I'm not sure there's any saving this one.

As to your humble narrator DB1, things have returned to some normalcy after a mini-vaca. I'm back to sitting around and staring at pics of hotties with total skeezebuckets, turning purple with rage, then drinking myself into oblivion.

In other words, business as usual.

A tip of the ole' popped collar to Iowa 'Bagslayer for suggesting we rename Old No. 7 to "Cro 'Bagnon." Nicely done I.B. And thanks to all the submissions and emails I've been getting lately. I'm now at 100% submission posting, saving me the existential angst of having to troll the party-pic sites out there. The quality of mind-numbing HCwD submits of unholy wretchitude has been outstanding. Good work, all!

Haven't done the HCwD of the Week the past few weeks but we'll start that up again on Monday. I'm also gonna do the long delayed "HC" contest later this week. So many hotties to choose from, it's gonna be tough to narrow it down to three or four.

So now that we're well into our journey here at HCwD, are we any closer to answering the question that plagues us all? How do so many rank scrote-nuts get into the presence of so much hottitude? What attracts these visions of lovelines to these grease-monkeys with 10 degree hat tilt and Jesus bling?

We may never know. And so, we must mock.

Feel for poor ole' Mullet 'Bag here. His life is oh so lonesome. Even in the presence of female perfection he can't hide his soul searching sadness from weighing him down.

Cry tears for ole' Mullet 'Bag. His is a lonely life. Only by occasionally performing the 'Bag Head-Butt on a hottie at the exact moment a pic is taken can he find solace and comfort.

Remember ole' Mullet 'Bag. Trolling the clubs for hotties while carrying the burden of a dark and mysterious past on his shoulders. Ole Mullet 'Bag journeys that empty road like only a true douchebag can. With a mullet. But he fights on. Oh yes. Ole Mullet 'Bag fights on.

Once, when I was in second grade, I ate the paste we were using to glue leaves to colored paper to make collages. What can I say? It smelled good and it tasted like unflavored jelly. But after lunch I didn't feel so good and ended up yuking all over the reading area in the back of the class.

Interestingly enough, my regurgitated paste puddle looked exactly like the scrote on the right.

What's up with that creepy-ass hand sliding down this hottie's neck? Have you ever seen a more awkward half-touch in your life?

Speaking of second grade, anyone remember those scented markers where purple smelled like grape and red like cherry? I used to get high on those fumes for hours. Hmm. Possible explanation for where I find myself today.

WAKE UP, OFFICE PEOPLE!!!

Since I know a lot of my fellow 'bags are slogging away in cubicles while the DB1 sits on his carpet sipping Thunderbird, here's a wakeup call in case the coffee ain't kicking in yet.

Sure it's only Tuesday.

Sure you're droning away on some crappy job for an uncaring boss while hotties are being attacked by rank scrotes all over the country.

But think of it this way. You could be this guy.

There. Feel better? Yeah I know. Probably not. But hey. At least you got me.

I can smell the Axe body spray wafting through the pixels of odor boy here. Hottie's face says it all. "What's that smell? Is someone burning garbage?" Even her arm's pinned back as if afraid to get a handful of grease. And what's up with Stenchy's nails? The dude can't shower or shave but his nails are polished.

This cutie needs liberation from the hazy stench of ass. I'd ask stripey shirt boy in the back to help, but he seems otherwise preoccupied.

Major props gotta go out to Douchestar Runner, who's been scouring the web and finding many of the gems of the past few weeks. Anything to help out the DB1 as he pursues his life of mixing alcoholic debauchery with tasty Hostess snack cakes is way appreciated.

Speaking of chins, double-chin 'bag here's gotta have twice the mojo in douchebag hell. With that Roy Rogers hat and Elton John sunglasses I wanna light his wings on fire and kick him down a flight of stairs.

This sweet, unBleethed little crouton is way too good to be six inches away from an ubuttoned scrote-chest.

Viewing Tip: Stare at the lace patterns on that luscious belly long enough while rapidly blinking and they'll begin to form the words "DB1, I want you to roll pickles down my inner thigh while krunk dancing with a towel on your head." Or does that just work for me?

Ladies, when posing for a pic with friends, ever get the feeling a massive scrote is hovering behind you? Here's what it looks like.

Kenny Rogers Chicken Roasters 'Bag here couldn't even charm his way into the pic with these scrumptuous little cupcakes. So he leaned in like the tool he is. We need to develop a special 'bag bonus scoring section for those who only make it into the pic through the "lean" method.

I would take a three party search expedition into the cleavage of that luscious lillypad on the right.

Then I would dunk Kenny Rogers in the deep fryer until he folds 'em.

Uhm...

(gulp)

This is an honorable and respectable gentleman who deserves nothing but respect and admiration. He is not a douchebag.

Please don't kill me, oh gracious and giant sir.

I have lots to live for. Like... my Night Train Express. My hohos and Chocodile 24 packs bought with my Ralph's Club Card. My ratty basement apartment. My dirty, carpet stains. My plastic dishes and aqua blue rug from Urban Outfitters that's shedding all over my apartment.

Ah, who the hell cares. Go ahead and kill me.

It's Chin-nromous!! It's Chin-sational!! It's Chin-sanity!!

(with apologies to Mary Poppins:)

Chin chimeny, chin chimeny, chin chin charu... now here is a chinbag who's chin smells like poo...

We've had chinbags here at HCwD before. The Ziggy Stardust 'bag below being the most recent example. But this thing is just ginormously terrifying. If I saw that thing in an alleyway at night I'd run screaming. Its so distracting I can barely comment on those sunglasses (which deserve a dissertation in their own right). Even the spikey hair can't distract from that giant, heaping, tablespoon chin ' douche.

Hottie's a little large in the gut, but I'd still funky chicken on her fingernails. Even if she does look like Owen Wilson.

So should we describe this as double 'dog formation?

This sweet little Paris Hilton type deserves better. Much better. Like me rubbing my ankles on her neck during the James Bond marathon while quoting Proust by candlelight.

Megods, look at this scrote's chin. It's like the K12 snowboarding slope of chins. I'm going to try a heelside turn quarterpipe off his jaw in next year's olympics. And dig that two tone aqua-blue and grey combo. Class.

What the hell is he wearing around his neck? It's like some ancient Indian shamanist totem to communicate with the spirit of past douchebags. Thus, I've named him Dances With 'Bags. Double fisting champagne and vodka. Nice.

And it looks like Paris Hilton's poodle gained some weight.

I'm getting a lot of emails with questions from new readers. If you're unclear on the terms some of us are using, best bet is to go back into the archives, starting in April and read your way forward. I suppose I could write up a FAQ, but that would take time away from sitting here on the floor, staring at my computer, and doing nothing.

Or you can email me and say hi, or better yet, send me a pic of a HCwD combo of such unholy pusitude that it makes you rage with anger, quake with lust, and want to rip your nutsack hair out with tweasers.

Oh, and if you want a definition of "douchebag," merely look at this guy.

It's Friday, which means the DB1 has already started drinking. Today's beverage of choice: Irish Rose. Out of a dirty plastic cup, natch. It makes me feel good to know I've achieved so much in life as I stare at the stains on the carpet and water stains on the ceiling. Hmm, I wonder if that large crack running down the plaster in my wall is cause for worry. Anyways, no matter. Next week's lineup is pretty sweet, and we'll also be having our first ever "HC" contest for the hottest chica to appear on the site so far.

So rock the weekend Kobe style, and may all your hotties be Bleeth-free...

I can't tell which creeps me out more, the pukey expression on this ferret or the haunted framed picture of some old lady in the background watching me... watching me... stop watching me!!

Yikes.

This 'bag is uber-nutsack. His body say "Challo, luvar!." His facial hair say "Toush me!" His eyes say, "I am the luv god!"

I say douchebag.

(with apologies to Oasis)

Someday you will find me,
caught beneath a skeeze scrote..
With a champaigne superdouchebag in a pink douchey shirt with a tux jacket and jeanssss...

I always knew the Flowbee (tm) haircut would make a comeback. And that paisley pink shirt really does help bring out the color his lipstick.

Oh who am I kidding. I wish I was this guy. This Brook Burke lookalike makes me cry over humanity's long, dark descent into the land where scrotes like this get hotties like that.

The DB1 is sad. The DB1 will now bang his head against the wall.

While we tend not to stray into celebrity waters that often here at HCwD, we should reserve a wing in our Hall of Fame for one-time comedian Joe Piscopo, seen here with his pregnant (and hottie) wife Kimberly.

The Piscopo didn't elevate to 'bag status until his once promising career began to tail off in the mid 80s and he decided to 'roid up. Perhaps summoning his Jersey guido roots, The Piscopo quickly skeezed out in record fashion, setting a template for c-list actors for years to come.

He's not pure-douche, but he does offer a warning that the Jersey virus is out there, waiting to turn any one of us into a total skeeze if we're not careful. Signs of the Piscopo include over-pumped muscles, Italian fro-hair, and a glazed look that says, "I used to work with Eddie Murphy and now I'm at the gym with the Lee Hotti boys." Ouch. That's gotta hurt.

It's hard to say whether the loud, puke stained tie is technically in the douchebag oeuvre or if it falls more into the "dork" genus. Some might even theorize that the act of wearing a tie, by definition, automatically disqualifies a scrote from attaining true 'bag status. But I disagree.

A 'bag can wear a tie, as we've seen in past months. It's just a 'bag playing non 'bag dress-up. Like serving a Swanson's Fried Chicken Hungry Man frozen dinner on fine china. It may be a fancy plate but that's still mutant chicken you're biting into.

Take this sewage sausage here. Ill fitting jacket, retro-anus hat, bling earring, and of course that tie. He's Joseph, The Amazing Technicolor Douche-Scrote.

And then there's Pocahontas. Look at that cleavite. I'd write epic poems to its softness then shove my toes in a blender set to "puree" until she was mine.

Tell me that isn't Dirk Benedict, aka "Starbuck" from the original Battlestar Gallactica (and The A-Team). It's bad enough that this pretty boy frat-'bag aryan is snagging the hotties down in Vegas. It's even worse when he busts out the popped collar and scruffy faux-hawk. Makes the DB1 an angry, angry 'bag.

Time for a shot of Thunderbird.

(5 minutes later:)

Nope, the Thunderbird didn't help. The inverted 'bag blond-Asian sandwich formation is just too painful to endure. These lovely grapefruits are dirrty in all the wrong ways. So wrong, but so right.

For those of you who dig on the obscure pop culture references, pretty-boy 'bag here is also the spitting image of "Bob" from the Church of the SubGenius, as seen here:















Any SubGenius fans out there?

It's "Making Fun of Guys who could shred the innards of Douchebag1 with one punch" week here at HCwD! Yeaaarrrr!

I'm including this pic not just because this bulked up Canseco-'Bag looks like he just greased up the forehead with BagODouche-Oil (Trader Joes, $4.99), but because there's gold in them there hills.

And by "gold" I mean luscious pale skinned cleavite. The type that make you go "Hmm." That shirt's illegal in six states. It's also a sign of stage-2 Bleeth, but in a good way. Sometimes the 'bag infection has ancillary benefits. So keep up the corruption effect, Canseco-Bag! If we get to glimpse a little cleavite goodness, all the better.

This goofnut fratbag isn't particularly douchey but I'm enjoying the bizarre Frodo-head growing out of the chica's shoulder.

So here's to you, Mr. First Beer Drinker. You finished the whole thing. Good on you!

Note the standard Miller Lite dormroom swag.

I'm having a hard time telling if this guy qualifies as a douchebag or not. I'm just not sure. I'll have to examine reallllllllyyyy closely all the subtle signs to parse whether or no-.... AAARUGH!!

Excuse me. Wrong pic.

(shivering with nausea)

Uhm. Yeah. Pretty much speaks for itself. Apologies to those with weak stomachs. If your revulsion spew ruined your monitor, please send me an email and I'll, well, do nothing really. But I do apologize for any ill effects this pic causes.

Megods. I'd get around to commenting on the chick but I think my scrote just crawled up my anus to hide. Looking at these greasy abs makes me wonder if I'll have to do penance in the after-life for unleashing this shaved turd on the masses. Apologies, my fellow HCwD readers. This one's like a hot poker shoved up our collective rectum. And what's with the dude in the back. Is it really possible to casually drink a beer (? or play the flute?) with this beacon of puke glowing three feet in front of you?

Lando's hit tough times since Vader took away Cloud City. Now he spends his days trimming that pencil-thin 'stache, spiking that rank hair and busting Bag Hand Gesture #21. Rock on, Lando!!

Nothing says what state you're from quite like tattooing it up your forearm. Saves the trouble of a verbal reply.

Hottie: "Hey Lando, where ya from?"
Lando: (holding up arm)

If you're wondering what clinches a uber-douche, I'd say tattooing a state's name would certainly elevate a candidate out of the qualifying rounds. Having enough oil on the forehead to perk up Halliburton doesn't hurt either.

Speaking of cleavite, I'd examine the melatonin deprived nether regions of those two gummibears for a fortnight while tap dancing the drum solo from Inna Gada Da Vida. They make me happy. And by happy, I mean horny.

Dear Tiny Sunglasses 'Bag. Please don't kick my ass for making fun of you. But you are uber-bag, and so I must mock. With the power of all that is holy and right behind me.

No really, don't be mad. Some of my best friends are shaved headed sacks of man-goo with sunglasses a size too small for their ginormous cantelope sized head. Nice upturned collar, mini Jesus bling, and a nicely shaved and oiled chest. That chest is the slip-n-slide of douchebag chests. If you lie down long enough, ten year old kids in bathing suits will run and jump at you.

Which may actually be your cup of tea.

Oh and nice straw.

Sincerely-
DB1

Since it's the day after Independence Day, here's a treat for all of us to cleanse our palettes. Three unBleethed hotties with nary a DB in the pic.

Well, since I can't technically violate the charter of this site, there is the tiniest hint of a 'bag in the lower right. His skeezy hand. And perhaps that pink shirted Coors holder on the right, which may or may not be a 'bag.

That's enough to qualify the pic. Besides, after some of the scrotes of the last month, we need some pure eye candy.

I love all three of you. Equally. For about 10 minutes each. Okay the first gets 3 minutes. Then after an hour of recuperation, the second gets a solid 10. I promise.

From all of us here at HCwD (okay it's just me, DB1), have a happyand safe July 4th. And may it be filled with fireworks and Night Train.

Even this skeezy scrote wishes you a happy 4th.

The DB1 is on a mini vaca with family, but many good pics are in the pipeline. I'll try to fire up the grill tomorrow.

Something to chew on going forward: We've established the obvious HCwD combos. But what about the subtler ones? At what point does a dude cross over into official 'bag status? At what point does a hottie start to show signs of Bleeth? Let us begin...