Hot Chicks with Douchebags

Friday Thoughts

2008-05-09T14:16:00.000-07:00

As another Friday passes by, Ubiquitous Red Cup comes to me and asks me questions.

How is it that the 'bags we examine each day can cover such a wide variety of shapes, forms and variations, yet they all converge into a single ball of societal douche?

Maybe we're missing the key nexus point where contradiction converges: The spectacle of difference and the structure of sameness.

Maybe the spectacle of douchosity is not how we percieve it. Maybe it informs the erotic by virtue of its meaningless shell of exterior. The hott desires the glinty shell by virtue of its great irony -- that within the visual spectacle of uniqueness, she will actually find the comfort of sameness.

Ours is a culture of cacophonous mutiplicity, mass marketed artifact. Yet, spread across the wasteland, from sea to shining sea, the baubles become devoid of content. Denatured of context. Form without meaning. Shells of Speed Racer mass produced masculinity, store bought Iron Man icons of rebellion reprocessed.

This is why the mohawk has been rendered ridiculous. It has become denatured of originary act, reprocessed as mass culture club going gimmick. Originality sold by the yard in the conceptual chain outlet of mass culture recoding.

Che Guevara club t-shirts. Dog-tags, once the requirement of a soldier's potentially dead body, turned into brand-name trinkets sold at Armani outlets. A shiny metal object rendered as meaningless pseudo-masculine "bling."

There is no meaning, so the spectacle becomes fragment. Strands of an originary cultural sameness.

Thousands of TVs reflect back to the Hott the bauble, the glint. The shifting brand names, the power chord rock song du jour, the follicle length of the month, Seacrest Approved.

These signifiers congeal into the singularity she calls "boyfriend" and validates her desire as cultural net worth. No words needed. Just icons.

We have become walking hyperlinks.

Bodies as intertextual echo of media super-spectacle.

Our physical presence no longer exists. We simply communicate the codes of market set value in the hopes of validating ourselves in the eyes of the collective other.

We trip the wiki fantastic and link across the wastelands, our belt buckles as hypertext, our A/X shirts as link exchanges. We charge our sense of selves on the collective power outlets of quick cut digital flash and the noise of the latest 31 Flavors.

The Hott intuits these values and pursues their market worth. But while the Hott may chase the Douche, she can never catch up to ephemera. It is a digital carrot on a pixelated stick -- always out of reach at 29.97 FPS. A drop-frame simulacrum of structure designed never to resolve itself. Only to perpetuate the chase.

But once we shed the bling, drop the Goose and turn off the turntable, the image dissolves into actuality. The thumpa-thumpa noise fades, and the authentic body reemerges. Fixed. Present. Real.

In the end, they can't buy and sell that online. Our bodies are still here. And the boobie is still firm and succulent.

So we got that going for us.

All That Scrote

2008-05-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

I always knew we'd find evidence of the lost Bob Fosse musical, All That Scrote.

Rumors had abounded for years. Strange dance sequences involving stripper hotts and lanky Ryan Gossling types with chinstrap facial pubes.

The whole thing a dark commentary on America's lost foray into nihilism in the go-go Wall Street Reagan years.

With snappy orchestral accompaniment. And Ben Vereen as Bill Cosby.

Orange Color Space

2008-05-09T10:14:00.000-07:00

The color orange occurs between red and yellow in the visible spectrum at a wavelength of about 585 – 620, and has a hue of 30° in HSV color space.

The complementary color of orange is azure, a slightly greenish blue. With pigments such as paints or inks, a mixture of the subtractive primary colors in the proportion of 75% yellow and 25% magenta produce the secondary color orange.

Orange pigments are largely in the ochre or cadmium families, and absorb mostly blue light, as well as greasy hair gel.

Johnny Blaze and the Clubdom of the Crystal Skull

2008-05-09T09:11:00.000-07:00

Douche archaeologist and noted professor of scrotology, Johnny Blaze, is back!! And this time, it's personal.

And by personal, I mean gelly.

Watch Johnny Blaze swing through another wacky adventure involving two club hotts, a bottle of Grey Goose and sixteen Soviet footsoldiers falling off a truck.

Friday Braku

2008-05-09T07:04:00.000-07:00

Bra!! Spring Break, Broheim!!
Seven hotts and diet coke!!
Bra, dig my package!!

Bra loves his soda
How can seven hotts compete
With carbonation?

-- mr. white

Da bomb was Pepsi!
Coke is awesome too Bra ya!
Bra I have Hep C!

-- vacuum cleaner bagg

Italian haiku:
leaning tower of slutness
my extra toppings

-- douche mccallister

Braaaaaaa! Yo, Broseph! Braaaaa?
Grab another brewsky, braaaaa!
Sups, Brosephina?

-- burnsy

Bitch drank my Pepsi!
Brand loyalty's not my deal.
Leg-humping chicks is.

-- anonymous

Why stand on crowd's edge?
I would jump in that pile
Like a kid in leaves.

-- wohlfat

Confusious does say
Girl in blue skirt need eat more
Thigh look like noodle

-- dunkterdouche

Frankie and Annette
Never wanted stuff like this
Beach Blanket Douchebag

-- alan hull

Thugs 4 Life (Or Until Monday 9am)

2008-05-08T14:32:00.000-07:00

PIC DELETED

When not managing the shipping department at the local UPS branch outlet, where they'll be happy to help you with your packing needs, Jake and Cecil are THUGS 4 EVA.

Patty, Kimmy and Suzie are begging me to talcum their butts with melted Peeps and then rub mustard on myself until we form ass-peep sandwiches.

Oh, like you've never had an ass-peep sandwich.

Prom Night at HCwDB

2008-05-08T12:17:00.000-07:00

If you ever wondered what prom night would like like here at HCwDB, now you know.

A curvy girl-next-door type, an open box of Coors Light, a security guard in the distance, and a heaping uberdouche.

Then again, I don't usually hold my proms in a quarry straight out of a 1970s Doctor Who invasion episode.

On an unrelated note, I have one more Bra!! pic that is so genius, I have to hold it for Friday. Think of it as something to look forward to. Your reward/punishment for a successful week of 'bag mocking.

Ask DB1

2008-05-08T10:41:00.000-07:00

Arthur writes in with an important question:

----
DB1-
I love your site!

Can a woman be a douchebag? I see many that seem to fit the definition here in the O.C.

-- Arthur
----

This is an important question, Arthur, but the short answer is yes.

A female douchebag is referred to as a douchbaguette, or a Bleeth. The Bleething process, stages 1 through 4, measures how far gone a hottie boobie suckle thigh is, and whether or not they can still be saved, or are lost to douchery forever.

However you may experience what some refer to as the Douchal Paradox, in which you realize a girl is a huge douchebaguette, but you still desire to paw her upper thigh area like a lobotomized ferret.

This is normal. Do not be alarmed. Even the most experienced 'bag hunter suffers from this contradiction.

Reader Mail: Miami

2008-05-08T09:11:00.000-07:00

Nikki writes in:

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Hey DB1-

here in south florida we have a variation of the traditional bridge-and-tunnel douche. this pervasive sub species is mainly concentrated in the ft. lauderdale area but is known to venture to south beach and even downtown miami on weekends.

the miami douche usually originates in queens, rhode island, jersey or surrounding areas (this can be determined by noting the douche's accent) and at some point in their young lives migrated south in search of the more plentiful and diverse, some may argue 'sluttier,' hotts available here.

the miami-douche can usually be spotted by their modified mullets, ed hardy t-shirts, white belts and also their deep affection for rolling and house music. warning: may be of latin decent.

-Nikki
----

I hadn't heard of cross polinization within various douchal ecosystems, Nikki, so I will look into this phenomenon.

The douche in search of warmer weather, moving to Florida. Interesting. It's like my grandparents, only with more hair gel and less Early Bird Specials.

M&Ms

2008-05-08T07:07:00.000-07:00

Ya know, I was feeling good this morning.

I slept well. I had a hearty breakfast of Lucky Charms and Yoohoo. I fed the dobermans and put out some yak's milk for the alpacas.

Then I gotta turn on my computer and see this atrocity.

Eminem wannabes and some trashy 2am bar girls. Megods, there is no morality or sanity in this dark and cold universe.

Now where'd I put my socks?

The Preppy 'Bag

2008-05-07T15:13:00.000-07:00

We haven't had a good private school attending trust fund inheriting argyle wearing preppy douche in quite awhile.

Not that Andre $29.99 is that Prepster.

Drunk pouty Camilla is a Danish Au Pair of confused befuddlement. I would help her read the subway map and smile delightfully at her broken English, only to accompany her back to her rich employer's summer home in the Hamptons and make out on Grammy Wilson's rocking chair.

Hmm. That fantasy may have gotten away from me there.

Reader Mail

2008-05-07T12:45:00.000-07:00

Ruth writes in:

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So, DB1, I just got back from a family vacation to Orlando. Parents, sister, brother in law, nieces (3 and 1 years old)...

We go to lunch at Rainforest Cafe on my last day. Sitting one table away from us are three douches with tribal tats, mandanas/hats atilting, etc, and what likely were 2 blond botoxed bought-boobied hots, several years ago before they became UberBleethed.

I tried and tried and tried to get pictures (because they SOOOOO belong on the site), but they kept pulling beer bottles to their faces, or (ugh) tongue kissing and yelling -- anyhow, after several attempts I gave up.

However, my three year old niece took a shine to the group and, in one of her passes around the table, she stopped at their table, looked up at the biggest douche in the group, and said very loudly "Mommy, what's WRONG with these people? They look stupid."

My hangover suddenly disappeared. I love my niece.

Ruth
----
Teach the young one well, Ruth, and when she's appropriately trained to mock the douche, I will then hit on her, stare at her boobs, then borrow fifty bucks which I'll blow on Pop Rocks and Red Bull.

After she turns 18, of course.

EDIT: For work readers, The Gator stepped in to cover up the nipple slip.

Slim Jim

2008-05-07T10:12:00.000-07:00

Slim Jim Troll Doll may be the nicest looking douche that is undeniably douchey we've ever had.

At first I want to mock his silly exposed undershirt and fruffy hair, and even point out the subtle Mark of the 'Bag on his forehead (the shine that makes the shape of shlong-n-balls).

But then I kind of just want to pat him on the head, buy him an ice-cream, and send him home.

And then slather Charlize Theron Doll with melted salsa cheese before rolling her and her two lovely friends in a giant tortilla shell and then munching on all three like a drunk koala in Uttar Pradesh.

Lets Party, Bra!!

2008-05-07T08:25:00.000-07:00

Fellow Broheims!! Jus' wanted to say thanks for voting me and my sexy little Maria your Hot Chick with Douchebag of the Week, bras!!!

I brought my bro, Brad, bra!! He's curling the bottle to my left, bra. And Brad's bra, Brandy, bra.

See youse in the Monthy!!

Bra!!

HCwDB of the Week: Bra!!

2008-05-07T06:54:00.000-07:00

Broheim!! Guess who won the HCwDB of the Week, bra? Another Pepsi, bro!!

It was a tight race between Bra and DNA Dan, but Bra rocked the star tatt to victory. In an excellent and hilarious comments thread (props to everyone who voted), the people spoke, and they spoke braly:

Rocko: Bra! Easily Bra!

Steve Douchemi: Bra! I gotta vote for Bra, bra.

Corbin: Bra! most definitely

Husker Douche: Bra! Duude, I'm the effin douchebag of the week bra! Seriously Bra, I'm gonna effin nail SO MANY BITCHES!!! Yo baby, kiss the star and you can be my star, no seriously, I wanna be Bras with your bra, give it to daddy.

Exactly. And Cool Hand Douche reminds us not to leave out that compact package of hottness on Bra's arm:

She is the lovin' spoonful that helps the medicine go down. I'd detail Bra's white Miata just to catch a glimpse of her posterior in jean shorts in the side mirror.

Well put, CHD, and note the affectionate embrace she's got under Bra's bra. Carl Lazlo agrees:

Brosef Bag. Star tats, flexed biceps, pucker faced and hand fake gang gestures guarantee a victory. Add in the dual chains (with charms) and the fact that he isnt wearing any shorts, and I say brosef is the winner. Little Shannon Doherty hott is deliteful.

Well put Lazlo, now get back to the basement lab. However, anonydouche notes the shirtless factor in the club, and casts in with DNA Dan:

my vote goes to DNA Dan - at least Bra is outside and has a valid reason for not wearing a shirt

As does samantha:

DNA Dan, although I feel sort of bad because I can tell he's only about 2 IQ points above mentally retarded. But maybe it's that, combined with Librarian Hott's glasses that really cinches it for me.

Excellent taste in hotts, Sammy. But leader of the band (norcal chapter) reminds us not to forget about the Gospel of Vin:

With references to scripture, I'd have to vote Vinny. No need to mention the checklist of what makes him one. The light on his face is like the hand of God pointing a yellow-bulbed flashlight at his face telling us this simple word, "Douchebag!"

Well put LotB(nc). But this is Broheim's week. A number of readers noted that Bra has upgraded Ubiquitous Red Cup with some Pepsi sponsorship. Very impressive. And as the everpresent anonymous hits the nail on the head:

Bra FTW! DNA Dan looks more like a science experiment than a douche. Bra, however, is everything that makes me want to remove my skin with a vegetable peeler after going out on a Saturday night.

Raise his Star Tatt to the rafters. Bra will be formidable in the Monthly.

Mo Fo

2008-05-06T17:33:00.000-07:00

PIC DELETED

For the reading impaired, the shirt reads Mo Money, Mo Bitches.

Which is almost as impressive as the fact that sleepwalking Roberto Bagnigni is actually making a hand gesture while in his zombified state.

Long Island Hott is the best hostess at Flingers since Jennifer Aniston quit.

'Bag / Not a 'Bag: Gym Carrey

2008-05-06T11:26:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if Gym Carrey really deserves 'bag status or not, so I figured I'd open it up to the floor for discussion.

Is the earring, greasy hair, overly developed pecs and smug expression enough to stamp douche?

And why is Stripper McPosture sipping a cup with cigarette butts in it?

But the one thing we do know is that this guy is still a huge douche. Self-reflexive irony won't save you from the cold, hard truth, Mayerbag.

Back in Rehab, No No No No

2008-05-06T10:10:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's that time of the year again. Sunday morning Rehab has begun again at the Hard Rock, Vegas.

This message brought to you by the Center for Disease Control. Please don't drink the water.

No, seriously. It's cloudy. And milky gray.

Caption This Pic

2008-05-06T09:02:00.000-07:00

When Kimmy and Kelly asked for a "Gatorade," they had no idea that Sven The Austrian Emo would show up.

Abe Froman

2008-05-06T07:24:00.000-07:00

Tell me this kid isn't on the way to growing up to being the maitre de at Chez Quis.

I weep for the future.

In related bodyspray news, Thirty Odd Foot of Douche reports in that free Axe Bodyspray "samples" are being given out in his gym locker room.

Sort of the douchal equivalent of how Army smoking breaks during WWII hooked an entire generation on Marlboros. Or how Kelloggs slipped that one sugar cereal into their "Party Pack," the one little box of Frosted Flakes next to the Raisin Bran and Cheerios.

Damn you, Kelloggs. Hooked me on your hidden little box of sugar crack when I was only five.

Carrotdouche

2008-05-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

Carrotdouche says, "I'm voting in the HCwDB of the Week!! Are you?"

Well, he didn't actually say that. But he still sucks.

She reminds me of my sophomore year "friend with benefits" who thought we were dating. Or, to quote the late, great comedian, Mitch Hedberg, "I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that."

Reader Mail

2008-05-05T13:47:00.000-07:00

HH writes in:

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DB1-

I almost got into a fight because of your site.

There was this raging douche-hole walking with this banging Inland Empire tramp. I asked my friend if he'd ever heard of Hot Chicks with Douchebags. The guy heard me, got up in my face and asked me, "Who you calling a douchebag?" I told him that a guy with enough machismo to attract a hot girl like that could never be a douchebag, which made him mad.

He shoved me a couple times, especially when I asked his girlfriend if this was part of his mating ritual. He eventually gave up when security guards asked him to calm down or leave. As he walked away, he yelled after me, "So where's your girl?" to which I responded, "Why bring sand to the beach?"

-HH
-----

It is my dream to inspire club fights simply upon repeating the phrase, "Hot Chicks with Douchebags." It is my dream for that simple four word expression to become a cultural mantra, a shaman-like spiritual invocation if you will. The "Klatu Barata Nikto" of scrotundery.

That is my dream.

Well, that and Mila Kunis dipped in strawberry ice cream yelling at me to get up and get her a chicken pot pie.

Diff'rent Scrotes

2008-05-05T11:02:00.000-07:00

What chu talkin' 'bout, bitches?

Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Bobby Fischer of Douchebaggery. The Gary Coleman of Scrotundery.

A 'bagling so far ahead of his time that he's actually impacting global scrotery in the year 2015 with retro-future pull.

Ladies, he may be cute now. But he'll be the featured castmember of The Surreal Douche before you know it.

Stop the insanity. Get this kid some real heroes to emulate. Like Shaft. And Dolomite.

Where's Waldouche?: HJBBAD Edition

2008-05-05T09:32:00.000-07:00

I've eliminated the Amazon widget lag, so hopefully the site is working more smoothly now.

In the meantime, somewhere in this cross section of sorority girls, I've carefully hidden He Just Bangs Bitches and Drinks.

Look closely.

Can you find him?

HCwDB of the Week: Bra, Ungh, Yo

2008-05-05T07:05:00.000-07:00

Bra. This week is a tough one, bra. Unggggh!! Yo.

Three selections of sexy plaything and steaming poodumpery are vying for your vote. Consider each carefully, before choosing. Which rises to the top of your pile of ultimate hottie/douchey wrongness?

Since I've already commented on each picture when they first ran, I will attempt to replicate the discourse each image summons. So, without further abra, here's your finalists:

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #1: Bra!!

Bra.

No, seriously, bra!!

Broheim.

Bra!!

Dude.

Bro.

Bra!!

That's what I'se talkin' 'bout.

Braaaaaaa.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #2: DNA Dan

Unnnnnnghhhhh!!!

Me like boobies.

Sexy Librarian tells DNA Dan to read book. Me not like book.

Me like boobies.

Geico!!

Pauly Shore!!

King Kong was a whiny little beyoch!!

Okay, I got nothin' else except that he's a huge caveman of club-going douchery, and she is everything a girl-next-door hott should have. She is luscious.

HCwDB of the Week Finalist #3: The Gospel of Vinny 12:18

Yo.

This ain't no paint, yo.

It's the clublights.

Where the magic happens.

Where sexy Maria and her best friend Tonya know where to get some sugar.

Yo.

A/X.

That's what it's all about.

Okay, that last pic just didn't have the strength of voice the other two did. But he's still a douche. And Maria's a chiquita hott.

So them's your three. Remember, don't just vote for your favorite hottie or the douchiest douche, but which combo, together, combines to form the truly ascendant HCwDB pic.

Which one will rise to the top/bottom of hottie/douchey wrongness? That, my fellow 'bag hunters, rests in your trusty digital votes.

Vote, as always, in the comments thread.