The D-Files (Douchebag)

9 04 2010

Sweet Jesus. The days are getting longer, the sun is shining a bit more brightly, birds are chirping their collective asses off. So you know what that means don’t you, kids? That’s right! The douchebags are coming! They’re already starting to infect the local beaches already from war front reports already. Thankfully, the weather won’t be too warm this weekend so that will keep those fuckers at bay for a little while. It just seems the seasons start way too early. We just get done cleaning up after those fucktwits and they come to rape the sands with their fist pumps and steroid shrunk penises. Some would akin this to pure gonzo rape and I would have to agree! I can sit here and blame the show “Jersey Shore” for the influx of douchebags. I won’t go there, that is too easy and c’mon, do we really need more shit about Snooki being cold cocked in the face? (click the picture if it doesn’t move)

Actually, even though it IS a girl, there is something sickly rewarding about this.

Chances are if you have stumbled upon this, you are fully aware of what a douchebag is. To the uninformed or those who have heard of this term and feel it is a feminine product, brother, you are dead wrong.

This ain't yo momma's douchebag anymore

NO! This is not what we are talking about here! Whoa no! Dear children gather around and see what abominations that have spewed forth on the once respectable seaside towns of New Jersey! Behold the douchebag that infects the world with their asshole ways and STD-laden fingers!

Ugh, look at them! God hates douchebags.

Now, I have studied these fiends for quite some time. In face I have personally dealt with them on a personal basis from working at a local bar. Here are the stats:

Name: Douchebag(s), Long Island Douchebag, North Jersey Douchebag, Guido, Fuckin guido, Bag of Douche, Douchearus Bagarus

Species: At one time human, now simply a bag. Of douche.

Height: They average around 5’3 to 5’10. The Italian gene has not been kind to them.

Lifespan: We have yet seen one live past 30 since this is a new species.

Origin: Northern New Jersey and parts of New York City. The biggest migration of this species hails from Long Island. Or as their bizarre speech (more on that later) dicates, “Long Giland”

Environment: The douchebag is at home at any place that plays loud, bass-thumping dance music. It can just be a fat man going “untz untz untz untz” into a microphone placed in his mouth. If it can be made into a dance song, it will be played and they WILL dance to it! Poorly I might add.


Physical Features: Fake skin that is tanned to the finest of assless chaps brown color, hair spiked like Sonic the Hedgehog after an orgy with Got 2 Be Hair Glue or Elmer’s if on a tight budget.

If Sonic was a douchebag

Muscular body that is usually aided by the way of steroids. A douchebag can not bother with spending time in the gym when he can be ripping the clubs up. If one sees a douchebag at the gym, they are there to try to impress someone. DO NOT BE FOOLED!

Seriously, WHAT. THE. FUCK!?

They also have the bizarre tendency to have lips in a permanent “kiss face” like a kissing fish or Derek Zoolander. They feel the need to do the “Magnum” or “Blue Steel” in every picture ever taken of them in their environment. This may either be a courting type of behavior or to ward off enemies, we are not sure as we are laughing too hard at them.

Dear God Ben Stiller, what have you done!??

They also wear clothes by a clothing line called Ed Hardy. If you are seen looking at a shirt that says, Ed Hardy, you will be shot on sight by our crack team of Douchebagologists. DO NOT even LOOK at an Ed Hardy shirt. It is to note that these shirts are worn at the the smallest size possible to fit their frames, I guess it is to make their muscles stand out? They also accommodate this with tight jeans that show the ill-effects of steroid use and the male penis. They also tend to wear obnoxious jewelry like silver/gold chains and other “accessories.”

Personality Traits: Loud, obnoxious, egotistical-like behavior that borders on the megalomaniacal. They always seem to have a smirky grin from an over-inflated ego when they are having a “good time.” Since the steroids are so infused in their blood they can snap at any given moment. Most of the time it is their cosmopolitan drinks in a plastic cup spill on their shimmery new Ed Hardy shirt (with a gold sequined tiger marauding a fish or some shit) that drive them over the top. Or if someone accidentally bumps into them while they are, “fish-pumping like a champion” on the dance floor. It is best to turn and move in the other direction when one sees a douchebag as their behavior and general aura is one that will suck a victim into the endless void of stupidity. Their dialect is a peculiar item as they interject syllables into words that make them sound entirely like new words! For example, you say “bathroom” they say “batchroom” What is a “batchroom?” I guess it is where cookies are made? We are still deciphering their bizarre language.

Yeaaaah, now dat's a batchroom youse guyz!

It is interesting to note that while dancing they do a strange type of . . . mating call? It is a bizarre arm flex called, “fist pumping.”

The man on the right may be his dad

Now apparently, this is a joyous gesture if they like a song. It is pretty much the white man equivalent of break dancing. The douchebag cares about their looks than most women do their entire lives. So they do not want to mess their hair up too much because, then what reason do they have to live? So the fist pump is as close to dancing as they get.

Now, what sort of person would be attracted to this kind of beast? Why, it is quite simple! The douchette!

May or may not have been a man at one point

Notice she exhibits the same, “Blue Steel” look anytime a camera flashes. And her skin looks as if it is the color of the finest mahogany furniture in Ron Burgundy’s apartment. You can pretty much apply the same traits to the Douchette, except that her breasts are made entirely out of plastic and chances are she will experience silicon leaking while dancing or even trying her hand at fist pumping.

Now that we have a more in-depth look at these fucking jokers, we know our mission. Your training is for this purpose. Polish the sniper rifles my loves, for we are hunting guidos this summer.

We shall avenge you, Sniper Cat


Erotic Fiction: The Party

28 11 2009

I tend to find myself to be the romantic type. So I decided to delve into the strange world of erotic fiction. Enjoy!

I walked into my friend’s party. It was a nice sized affair, I’d say about 20 people were mingling about. I had been alone for a while so I was looking around for a pretty young lady to talk to. It was a lame party and everyone looked sad. It was probably because there was no music playing. Music always gets a party going.

I scanned the room and decided I was going to only stay a little while until I saw her! She was gorgeous in every sense of the word. She had long black hair, pale skin, tall but average sized body (I’m not one for ultra-skinny girls), prosthetic left leg, crystal blue eyes, one finger too many on her right hand and an award winning smile with all her teeth!

My eyes caught her one eye, the other was looking the other way and I sauntered on over. I introduced myself meekly.

“Oh, HI THERE! My name is BILL!” I whispered and screamed. I have a hard time controlling the sound of my voice.

“Uhm, hi my name is Tina.” She said half afraid and was clutching her purse.

“IT’S okay. I can’t HELP the way I TALK! So WHAT brings you HERE tonight?”

“Ah, I came with my friend Donna, she knows Steve. Uhm, if you don’t mind I need to go to the bathroom. I have to adjust my leg.” I could sense the shiver of passion in her voice. She then looked at me deep into my eyes and crinkled her nose in such a cute way I was overjoyed at the cuteness of her face.

“Why do I smell shit or no wait, bad body odor? Maybe it is shit . . . ?” Tina said slightly gagging.

“Oh, THAT would be ME! I ran out of TOILET paper the other DAY! I can’t AFFORD to buy ANYmore until TUESDAY!” I blurted and tried not to embarrasses myself in front of this goddess.

“Wow, that is truly disgusting. Don’t you shower at all? Oh fuck, I’m going to be ill.” She said between dry heaves.

“NO I don’t SHOWER before a GATHERING! I read my NATURAL body odor IS attractive to WOMEN. Like what ANIMALS give OFF when they ARE in heat.”

Tina looked at me, mouth agape and her left eye trying to look at me while the other looked dead ahead into my very soul.

“You are fucking insane. Please leave me alone now.” Tina said with such regret in her voice I wanted to take her in my arms right then and there.

“I AM really a NICE guy. I LIVE with MY mom and SHE said I’M the coolest GUY in town.” I said slightly boastfully but modest. Mother always dotes on me in front of her bridge club.

“No, really, Bill, Jim, whatever the fuck your name is, please leave me alone. Actually, if you could leave, that would be great. You’re starting to offend the guests now.” My angel from heaven said.

“Can we GO out SOMEtime? I have an AWESOME petri DISH collection of SPORES!” I said knowing I had totally won her over.

“No. Fuck. Off.” Tina said tearfully. I know it was hard for her but she knew we could never be together no matter how much our loins longed for each other. She was either crying or my natural odor was so powerful to her that she couldn’t bear not having me right then and there. She had promptly thrown a glass of vodka in my face. I knew she couldn’t stand knowing that my scent would attract another, so she was masking it.

She limped away and fell down, her fake leg gave out and she was pulled away by her friend. I stood there, dripping with my love’s drink all over me. I stood there, heartbroken but at ease knowing that we have shared the most amazing 2 minutes ever lived. I would have savored the moment longer until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw a very large man glaring at me with bulged neck veins and a red face.

“DUDE! Who the HELL are you?” He screamed at me. I knew he was jealous of Tina’s love for me.

“I’m BILL! Pleased to MEET you!” I said smugly, knowing I had Tina and he had no shot in hell.

“Get the hell out of here!! This is a goddamn funeral service!” The man screamed at me again.

“OH! Then WHY was SHE drinking? Isn’t THIS a PARTY?” I said accusingly. How dare he questioned me.

“It was water you dumbass! I don’t know who you are but you just walked in a fucking funeral for my brother, Steve. Get the fuck out of here!”

He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pushed me out the door. I fell hard and then stood up and brushed myself off. I looked at Tina through the window and she was shaking her head in disbelief. I stood there and thought deep and hard. And then I had the one thought that made me decide that Tina’s love for me would not last.

I would totally never fuck a gimp.