This post has been removed by the author.
 

Poop smash!
 

The replacement singer for the Misfits was not amused that Francine still prefers the Glenn Danzig era
 

The doppelganger of the lead singer for Flock of Seagulls just realized he ran he ran so far away.
 

I love you Francine.
 

Please, Francine needs to be nominated for HOH! Granted she's not THE sexiest girl in the world, but she's delightful, her boobs are magnificent, and she's got staying power here at HCwDB. If that's not enough to get voted in I don't know what is.

-Bagnonymous
 

Francine basked in her fame as Count Floyd's new intern on Monster Chiller Horror Theater. "A-whooooooo! Heh heh heh, scary, eh kids?." This fall on SCTV. Coming up next; Dr. Tongue's 3D House of Boobs.
 

Just moments later, Francine's red-headed girlfriend gave Francine a gentle reach around.
 

Francine smiled as she realized how exausted she was from the twelve hour pummelfuck session she had just endured with Vin Douchal"
 

Gary Danzig parlayed his brother’s punk rock career into a successful gig as a sideshow entertainer every year at Knott’s Scary Farm.
 

Francine looked at Vin Douchal and said, "You said there'd be cake. Where's the cake?"
 

Plinky's mom raised her hands in a fit of rage after witnessing Trisha peeing in the butt of Francine
 

Anita and Archibald’s responses were varied, but Francine’s gurgling Hershey squirts always garnered a reaction.
 

as balloon boy came down from the attack, the media continued to focus their story on Fancince's balloons.
 

Francine posed for one last time in front of the Douchebag’s of the Living Dead exhibit before exiting into the cool Portland evening air.
 

Francine arrives at the premier of the MTV documentary "Mack The Nozzle, A Douchebag's Mediocre Life" to the cheering of the Napkin Nights crowd
 

Little Goth Riding Hood and Son of Eddie Munster waited impatiently for the roofies they slipped Goldie Tits to kick in...
 

Milton flew into a jealous rage when Eva refused to stop grinding her engorged vulva on Francine’s vestigial tail.
 

Ass Napkin Ed tries to readjust his crack swatch using mental telepathy
 

Francine was oblivious to Hank the Ventriloquest's penchant for using his puppets for carrying forth his sadomasochistic desires.
 

is it just me or was Francince just stunning in her first photo, then pretty damn hott in the second and now we're seeing a slow puffing of her cheeks and bags under her eyes as the result of her continued party lifetsyle?

i mean, I'd still fuck her, but i dont want to as much as those first two pics...

Army of Douche-ness.
 

And with a terrible "CRACK!", Arthur burrowed his fist into Mildred's skull, seeking the brain matter that was crucial to sustaining his existence.
 

Caption:

"Is it just me or was Francince just stunning in her first photo, then pretty damn hott in the second and now we're seeing a slow puffing of her cheeks and bags under her eyes as the result of her continued party lifetsyle?

i mean, I'd still fuck her, but i dont want to as much as those first two pics...", thought Army of Doucheness as he grimaced in the background.


heh heh heh.
 

"Attempted Suicide Girlz"
 

This was taken at the signing for Francine's new autobiography "Vinnies and Jelly Dongs: Why I Hate My Father"
 

"Francine learned the hard way never to attend a vampire party during her time of the month."
 

@ Crucial.

hahahahah

Candy apples and razor blades

Little dead are soon in graves

I remember halloween



This day anything goes

Burning bodies hanging from poles

I remember



Halloween, halloween, halloween, halloween

Halloween, halloween, halloween, halloween
 

Life for Francine has not been the same since Mack announced he was leaving her for Poopaloompa.
 

"Oh my goth!", Francine lisped.
 

I love you, Francine.
 

It was bad enough that someone invited a sorority twit to the Satanic ritual, but when Karl realized she'd just drank the last juice box he went ballistic.
 

As he grabbed a fresh bottle of lotion and new box of tissue, Mr.Scrotato Head said a silent prayer to DB1 for providing him with another image of sweet Francine.
 

Despite her beauty, no one was amused by Francine's IBS.
 

Karl couldn't handle losing yet another round of "Jelly Dong Hide n' Seek".
 

That guy stole my Darksock-ula Halloween costume!
 

As he grabbed a fresh bottle of lotion and new box of tissue, Mr.Scrotato Head said a silent prayer to DB1 for providing him with another image of sweet Francine.
 

Francine thought it was really mean when the goth kids stuck magnets to her back brace.
 

Francine's porch beef garter belt drove the lycan clan insane.
 

Emperor Ming the Jobless takes another space wife.
 

"One! One slutty bleeth!
Two! Two slutty bleeths! Ah-ah-ah!"
 

Is the redhead gijbone0621ving Francine a reach around?
 

As soon as Garth tugged the strings on Gertrude's choker, the autoerotic asphyxiation party was underway.
 

"Cirque Du Semi-Employed"

And THAT is why we call him our boss.
 

Pictured: The first three people on line for the Twilight sequel.

Not pictured: Their parents waiting for them in the car.
 

Pssst... J Bone,

You may want to delete that last comment or change your password...
 

As her friends were so out of it, she looked for alternative ways of having fun(meaning doing the photographer and/or several innocent bystanders)
 

Mack: "Hello?"

Francine: "Oh Mack, its terrible! I loved it when our picture was on HCwDB, but now they just have my pic up there and the Regs are making fun of me!"

Mack: "Who is this?"

Francine: "Mack, it's Francine."

Mack: "Francine Who?"

Francine: "Oh my God Mack, I can't believe you don't know who this is after I let you spend the evening licking my face! That's the last time I ever . . ."

Mack: *click*
 

"Why yes, Mr. White," Francine purred seductively. "Me and my friend, Little Red Riding Whore, would be delighted to double up on you."
 

Unclear on the subject, Karl prepared to "pick up" the chicks.
 

Eddie Munsters cuteness wore off long before he realized , and never understood why the hotts thought he was creepy
 

Bleethinator 3: Rise of the Bleeth.
 

Is Fran photoshopped into this photo. She seems so out of place. I agree with Crucial, this girl has fallen hard. Granted, I wouldn't kick her out of bed, but the purity from the original picture is totally gone.
 

Francine demonstrates "How To Communicate Non-verbally", subtly sending the message: "I know what you want, and you're gonna get it, good and hard."

At least, that's the message I got...
 

Eddie scares francine, slightly embarassed francine caps one off, only to realize red is going to pay for this unfortunate chain of events.

Moral to the story:
she who dealt it, did not smelt it
 

Coming soon to a theatre near you...'Paranormal Douchetivity'
 

And Mr. Pathetic-Chin-Pubes is sending the message: "I went for the Eddie Munster look to cover up my receding hairline for the night, but forgot to dye the rest of my hair to match."

Subtext: "I am a douchebag, and a bad Halloween costume cannot change this."
 

@ Concerned Regular
How did that happen?
 

'Return of the Living Porch Beef'
 

And finally, Ms. "I'm So Shocked" is saying:

"Wouldn't you dye your hair red and wear a stupid collar for a chance to slither up behind Francine and give her a reach around?"

Well said, Ms I'm So Shocked, well said indeed....
 

'28 Douchebags Later'
 

'Friday the Doucheteenth'
 

'Nightmare on Douche Street'
 

Time to stalk, kill, and skin Francine: 3 days

Rolls of duct tape: 37

Hours spent using the hydraulic press on one's own flesh: 2 hours

Being Plinky's mom in a Francine Halloween costume: priceless
 

Vernon spent a number of painstaking hours in the salon, concocting his infamous ‘Wi-d’oh Peak.’
 

Me no like growned up Eddie Munster...

Poop smash!
 

'Attack of the Killer Poo 'Bags'
 

Dilbert grasped for anything he could hang onto as he prepared to expel his fourth gall stone of the evening.
 

'30 Days of Scrote'
 

'Alone in the Douche'
 

I still love you Francine. Don't worry, nobody takes great pics all the time. That's why they shoot 100,000 frames for the S.I. Swimsuit Edition.

That being said, please lay off the meth. Unless you want to look like the guy right behind you.
 

'Dawn of the Douche'
 

'The Sixth Scrote'
 

'Invasion of the Bleeth Snatchers'
 

'Doucheula'
 

'Jeepers Bleethers'
 

'American Douchebag In Bleethland'
 

'Phantom of the Porch Beef'
 

Francine decided to attend the Halloween party dressed as renown HCwDB winner Francine.
 

'Mary Scrotey's Bagenstein'
 

Francine was able to hide her tiny under arm vagina from the HCwDB voters until after the election.
 

'Cirque Du Douche: The Vampbleeth's Assistant'
 

'Twas Halloween and Francine had douchebags' credit card limits on her mind.

AV
 

'Jennifer's Poo Bag'
 

'The Wicker Bag'
 

'Dr. Douche and Mr. Poo'
 

'The Douching'
 

'Rosemary's PooBag'
 

I agree, Francine has lost that innocence since her first appearance here, but I like her more for it.

Nothing has filled out except her cheeks. I'd love to fill them out a little more...
 

'Bride of Doucheula'


....ok my coffee is wearing off heh...
 

Elvira moistens her finger prior to inserting it into Francine's rectum in an attempt to see if it will result in changing Francine's painted-on smile.
 

Elvira wonders why Francine's farts smell like dog semen?
 

Screw the haters, Francine. You still look perfect to me.








;)
 

The movie Paranormal Activity, if you could see the demon.
 

Francine wonders why Elvira knows what dog semen smells like.
 

"The Douchebags Under the Stairs"
 

'Village of the Douched'
 

'In the Mouth of Doucheness'
 

Stephen King's 'The Boobyknockers'
 

'The Bling'
 

Francine hosts a new game show on VH1, "Name that misappropriated style."
 

Francine's newly found fame takes its toll, as she discovers upon her visit to the mall where she is mugged by Hot Topic employees.
 

Frankie Danzig robs the brains of girls at Death Guild night instead of robbing graves. Maybe that's why he looks so malnourished.
 

Unfortunately for Wallace, his cracking good cheese was laced with PCP. The stench of Grommit's innards permeated the scene for days.
 

Seconds later, Francine's boobs burst like two over-inflated water balloons. Blood, silicone, and mammary tissue sprayed all over the horrified attendees at Fetish Night, touching off a wave of vomiting throughout the club whilst Depeche Mode continued to thump away in the background.

"What?" declared Francine. "I though you guys were into kinky shit."
 

FUCK YOU BLOGGER AND YOUR CONFLICTING EDITS.
SERVERS MEASURE TIME IN MILLISECONDS, MUTHAFUCKA!!!
 

It puts the Axe on its' skin, it does this whenever it's told.
 

"The answer to your question is Yes, sir. And by your question, I'm guessing you meant: 'Is it true that dress is held up by nothing more than nipples and jizz?'"
 

Shocked by the stench of Francine's meat curtains, Count Douchala and Little Red Riding Cock laughed and laughed, just before being cut down in a hail of bullets from people with jobs.
 

The newly-crowned Princess of Farts accidentally let one rip, accidentally pre-empting Her Majesty, The Queen of Farts.
Johnny Toilet Brush just wanted to absorb the fumes through his gingeval tissues like a mating-season tiger.
 

OKay, I don't know about the rest of youse guys, but I am completely enamored with the lovely Francine.



I would backstroke through the Fontana Dump Water Reclamation Tank with leaches gnawing at my taint hair only to jump out at the other side to land in a lye pit just for the chance to chew the discarded lint from her Schnauzer's Snuggie


Then we'd cuddle in a makeshift duct tape hammock of my own design. Either her or the Schnauzer, doesn't matter to me



This gal is a sure thing for the HoH.
 

Evil Douche 4 - Army of Scrotness
 

Count Douchness: Come on girls, I'm hung like this.

Red Riding Hood: Oooh, that sounds scrumptious.

Blond Buffy: I am sooooo going to enjoy staking this douche.
 

Back from lunch and Francine is still perfect. Ah, Francine.

DB1, can you get me a Francine .jpg in the neighborhood of 1200x1200? I need a new wallpaper.
 

The Rebirth of Francine, Part I

Leaves skittered and danced in and out of the circles of light beneath the row of streetlights, twisting and swirling around the feet of the many, many children running from house to house, adorned in outlandish Halloween costumes of every shape and color. The families on this particular street took their trick or treating obligations very seriously, and provided both treats and spooks for the children to enjoy. No house, however, took the holiday as seriously as the Oblongata home. For even though she had no kids of her own, nor any plans to have them, Medusa loved the spirit of All Hallows Eve more than any other day of the year. It had become a tradition that her home would be more frightfully exciting than any of the others, and this year was to be no exception.

Headstones and skeletons littered the small front lawn, while spider webs and eerie lights were draped about the eves of the house. Beneath the scraggly, barren arm of an ancient Oak, Mr. White dangled limply from a rope hung around his neck. Every so often he twitched and jerked, which never failed to bring shrieks and squeals from the children.

In the bushes on the far side of the walk leading to the house, a black shadowy figure would thrust out its leather clad arm to send the children screaming and scattering in every direction. Which was a good thing as it ensured none could hear the figure slur in a raspy, craggy voice “Trick or I’ll pee in your butt.”

Up on the roof, draped in tattered sheets, Vin Douchal and Dr. Bunsen Honeydouche leaped and twisted across the home’s peak, flailing their arms and howling at the top of their lungs. Every so often though, they would retreat to the back of the roof and watch with delight as the young couple that lived in the house behind Medusa’s copulated fiercely in an upstairs bedroom, the curtains open and lights purposely left on.

While Medusa enjoyed handing out the candy, she like dressing up in costume even more. Her selection was always provocative, with as little material or props as was possible, not to shock the children, but to tease and torment the parents who escorted the young ones around the neighborhood. This year she had chosen to be a zombie. But not just any zombie. Draped in a tattered and faded flapper dress, her pale skin made even paler under a dusting of grey make-up, she was Clara Bow, famous red-headed starlet of the silent film era. Her gorgeous red hair was piled atop her head in lose ringlets, her red lips all the redder with garish lipstick and gloss. Dark circles painted around her eyes gave her an almost feral look. The thin white dress was marred with dirt and dust, torn in all the right places, giving onlookers quick glimpses of her most private of parts, parts which she chose not to cover with panty or bra. She found it amusing and stimulating that both men and women would stand almost spellbound when she leaned over to reach into the candy dish, her low torn dress revealing in almost their entirety her large, firm, natural breasts.

The evening wound down in its customary fashion and with the last of the children dashing off into the dark, Medusa set about putting away the remaining treats. It was at that very moment, as she turned to blow out the candles on the porch that she saw her step out from the shadows and under the glow of the street lamp. The light from above cast a dark shadow obscuring her face, but Medusa could never forget her shape, the curve of her hips, the tight sinews of her legs, the fullness of her breasts that cast impressive shadows of their own, as the light spilled across the ample upper curve of each. The wind whipped for a moment bringing her scent to Medusa’s nose. She sucked in her breath, her knees weakening slightly. Angrily, she forced down the emotions and straightened to face the woman.
 

The Re-birth of Francine, Part II

Her first steps towards the front porch were hesitant, as if she was fighting the urge to flee. And yet she seemed to steady herself, the click-clack of each stiletto heal ringing with greater confidence as she approached the familiar house. In the darkness nearby Mr. White twisted slowly in the breeze, the only sign of life the rapidly growing bulge in his crotch.

Francine stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the woman who had been her sexual liberator and one-time lover. She was dressed in a tight fitting strapless black dress that left boldly revealed her breathtaking beauty. The top was held in place only by her breasts, which rose and fell with each rapid breath. The cold October air caused her nipples to swell, nearly bursting through the thin, tightly stretched fabric. The hem was just beneath her crotch, exposing the entire length of her lean, muscular legs. She had left her coat in the car, singled minded determination and a bottle of wine insulating her from the chill. Still, she shivered lightly as she endured Medusa’s hard, frozen stare.

Moments stretched out in the silent, empty evening, the tension broken suddenly and irreversibly by Mr. White’s soft muffled moan of release, and a faintly whispered “pee in her butt” that drifted out from the nearby shadows.

“Why are you here?” Medusa finally asked, barely able to hold back her rage, “to beg for forgiveness again? Don’t count on it. I got tired of hearing that by the second day.”

Francine took the insults without flinching, recalling the obscene torture she had experienced at the hands of her ex-lover those many months ago. The memories returned every evening, had become a part of her that she knew she could never, ever lose.

“I’m not here to beg,” she replied boldly, taking the first of the porch steps with measured determination, “I’m through with that. I don’t want your forgiveness. I don’t want your pity.”

“Then what the f*ck do you want?” Medusa demanded, unconsciously taking a step back, retreating slowly to the open doorway but never turning her back to the woman.

“You ruined me,” Francine said, her eyes steady on Medusa’s face, “Do you know that? Everything we did, you and me, and with the Baghunters, it ruined me for anyone else. All that twisted shit, I can’t get it anywhere else. And I want it.”

She was at the top of the stairs now but didn’t stop. Medusa continued backing away until she bumped up against the large table just inside the door and could go no further. Candy spilled from the bowel that sat atop it.

“I tried, God and you know I did,” Francine said, closing the final distance between herself and her tormentor, “but those pudf*cks, they don’t know how to please a woman, how to please me!. F*ck! Nobody knows how to do it.” Her eyes flashed with the pent up anguish that she had felt ever since she had been thrown out of the house. “Nobody but you!”

“I told you,” Medusa hissed through clenched teeth, “I told you that would happen, you should have f*cking listened. Now, why are you here? What the f*ck do you want from me?”

Now it was Francine who smiled, a smile she had seen creep across Medusa’s face on more than one occasion. She stepped forward quickly, trapping Medusa against the table and forcing their bodies together. In spite of herself, Medusa didn’t pull away.

“I want what’s mine,” she said, her hands sliding up Medusa’s flesh until they rested on her shoulders, “You taught me a lot while I was here. I can’t use that anywhere else but here. I want satisfaction, and you’re going to give it to me.”

Medusa’s eyes narrowed to dark slits, her own ruby red lips curling into a defiant snarl, “Make me, bitch” she spat.

With one quick motion Francine tore the tress down the woman’s body, pinning her arms as her sides. Medusa could have easily wrestled free, but to her own surprise didn’t, the cold air the poured across her exposed flesh met by the rising heat that boiled up from within her.
 

The Re-Birth of Francine, Part III

Francine pushed Medusa backwards will all her strength and the woman tumbled back onto the table, the remains of her dress flying up and her legs instinctively folding and spreading wide revealing a slit of pink against alabaster skin.

Without hesitation Francine buried her face down into Medusa’s exposed sex. She probed furiously and expertly with her tongue. She had been trained by the best, and Medusa knew she could never resist. Within seconds her body was wracked with surging explosions of pleasure. She clawed at her own breasts, torturing her nipples as her entire body tensed again and again. Finally after what seemed an eternity she fell limp, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Francine stood slowly, her hands firmly keeping Medusa’s legs spread. Her face glistened in the flickering light of the candles set about the living room. She stepped forward and firmly pressed her pelvic mound against Medusa’s open crotch, reached forward and pulled the exhausted woman up against her.

“Why, why are you back,” Medusa whispered, still unable to catch her breath, “I don’t want you back.” Against her will she fell into Francine’s arms.

“Haven’t you figured it out already” Francine said, her own, familiar angelic smile spreading across her face. She licked Medusa’s juices from her lips and slid her hands down the woman’s back pulling their hips the final few inches together, “This is where I belong. You, the ‘hunters, me, we all need each other.”

She brought one hand around to the front and reached expertly down between the two of them as only Medusa knew how to do. Immediately Medusa shuddered, her eyes rolling back into her head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be here for a long, long time. Now lean back, hold on, and take your treats like a good little girl.”
 

Let's see if that scares Medusa back out of the shadows. Where you at woman?
 

I think Medusa might be "busy" with her right arm soon to be in a sling.





Oh wait, that's just me. Never mind.
 

I couldn't even fathom what a conversation with Francine would be like.....

Me: Hi there

Francine: "Ew"

Me: Y'know, I play in a band

Francine: "Ew"

Me: Are from around here, I mean like, the greater Fontana / Rialto / Bloomington area?

Francine: "Ew"

Me: I just jizzed in my pants

Francine: "Ew"
 

Francine told reporters she was very excited to be playing Marylin Munster in The Munsters Return (and this time they're Douche Bags)
 

Thanks Vin, for making me giggle like a little girl here.
 

@ Scrotato

I just finished reading War and "Piece", the Fancine Chronicles. Excellent job as usual.

@VD 2:22

Freakin' hilarious.
 

@Vin

Damn you for doing in 100 words what I try for with 5,000. Freaking hilarious.

@Scrotum Pole & Wheezer

Thanks much. Francine is still my muse.


Sigh.

Spurt!

And damn you again.
 

Baron Von Goolo's posse of scare-mongers likes to hang with hotchicks on Hallowe'en
 

Orthodonture has gotten so expensive, it's downright scary; and red hair dye opens the eyes like none before; but gimme a blonde with a fine pair of ta-tas and you've got me stumped, or my boner that is, as it suddenly realizes a widow's peak on a male is a cleavite in silhouette.
 

Thank you , gents.


Now, whomever has the url to her myspace, please cough it up ?
 

Count Poopula of Doucheylvania prepares to draw blood from the neck of either Choker Heidi the Red Haired Trollup, or Boobsie McNotaBlonde. What to do, what to do....
 

Francie is shown here participating in field trials of the General Douchenamics MTR-V14 Phased Array Anti-Goth Chest Mounted Dual Radome Countermeasure system.

--VS
 

cheek blisters are one of many afflictions you may contract through contact with Mack the Nozzle.
 

Francine pranced around the club with a distraught Maximillian trailing behind, his ruined crushed fist still lodged firmly in her rectum.
 

Is she not in the HOH yet?
 

@ Scrotato: You made me slickie in my drawers. Jerk!!! :D

I've been in the shadows, all right. In the shadows of a pair of balls, huh huh.
 

And yeah, Francine's starting to look a little rugged there.
 

redhead acknowlegdes her scat faux paux, while Toby growls over the runny dump laid on his dome... Sheena just grins