Yes, it was a slower week for hott/douche wrongness last week due to the July 4th holiday. But do not underestimate the early 90s bad CG powers of The Lawnmower Man. tsause throws down an emphatic vote:

You might as well throw this Debacle straight into the Hall of Scrote. I just hope he has a repeat appearance. Gang Sign, WristDana, Gayrings, Stupid Smerk, Tatts to go with Roid Arms and Flex. And do I even need to point out the 30 blades of Torrey Pines hole #16 on the dome of this Scrote. He reeks of Douche blood and is an instant classic.

I agree that there is much to celebrate in the 15th hole of Augusta growing on LM's head. Wheatsocks explains:

When LMM goes to the laundromat he carries his 3 pounds of quarters in a dirty tube sock, thinking, hey, if somebody tries to rob me, I'll hit them with this weapon i have created.

Problem is, the quarters start to smell and so his fingers smell, so when he's macking on the hotts they think he smells, but it's really just his fingers because of the quarters and the sock.

After numerous rejections, and some snickering, he has become LMM so the chicks would be too scared to diss him.

Look at Blondie's eyes: 'Save me from this psycho'; and Brown Bonnet's: 'do you smell something?'

All because he likes a clean t-shirt and is overly-protective of his laundry money. Such a shame.

LMM FTW.

Suddenly it does make sense, excellent work, Wheat. But the lone scroat goes mullet:

Gotta go with Mullets, FTW. This picture has it all. Shaved head, Blackpool shirt, bling, URC, two hotts, a scrawny handlebar 'stache, and most importantly, the air of "What the hell?" that is so important in a HCwDB composition.

I agree LS, the Mullet was an underrespected HCwDB pic, and by underrespected, I mean undermocked. And Baron Von Goolo explains the appeal of the Ass Pear:

I've started a collection to have that dumper bronzed and installed in a city park.

And usfhudson makes a compelling case:

Ass Pear FTW. For while the other scrotes may be douchier, the hotts don't compare to the Pear. So it's a middle of the pack douche paired with a top of the class Hott. Averaged out, that's a winner.

But scare-a-douche sums up the victory for the Jamba Juice Head:

Which brings us to the Lawnmower Man and his carefully constructed atmosphere of assclownery. He clearly takes his inspiration from that robot fighter from Tekken. He dreams of one day beating the game on moderate difficulty with the Robochoad outfit and unlocking the Rehab arena where the winner is the last fighter to die from syphilis. The Bleeths are tasty, indeed, but the orange tint means they're processed cheese and will surely give me intestinal discomfort.

Tekken references make me happy.

For those who wondered why no Lumpy Cheesecloth, lets not forget the hott side of the HCwDB equation. It is the rare Weekly Winner who can rise to victory solely on the greasebacks of scrote. Not to mention I couldn't take looking at those shaved chests again. But perhaps the L.C. would have pulled off a victory.

But we must respek, this week the L.M. and his two hotts take the prize, and book themselves a slot in the Monthly in a few weeks. Wish them luck. They're going to need it.

And by luck I mean shots of wheatgrass.