Ask DB1: The Chicken Or The ‘Bag?
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DB1,
A question occurred to me just now as I watched a man, clearly a Douche, perform a simple task of crossing the street.
Then I thought about such simple philosophical questions as “if a tree falls in a forest…” and “which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
The guy I saw today that gave birth to these Douche questions was crossing the street, all Douched out, wearing oversized aviator sunglasses in the middle of a downpour, plus other hallmark Douch Marks, such as Ed Hardy wear, Scrotal facial hair, etc.
First, one can assume that the Douche is sentient, using the Cartesian proof “I use Axe body spray, therefore I am” [From the latin, “Axeio, ergo sum”]. We may also assume that the Douche has acted with intent: they are clearly getting near hot chicks, as DB1’s weblog most painfully demonstrates.
Then I thought of a similarly perplexing question: Does a Douchebag know he is a Douchebag?”
The mind reels.
Jamie
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The moment at which ‘Bag becomes self-aware, as with Skynet before it, is the moment the war enters a new phase in our epic battle for boobie hottie suckle thigh.
Self awareness, of course, does not mitigate ‘bag status.
It is, as I’ve pointed out before, simply another strategy to deflect critique while appropriate the tools of the ‘bag arsenal in targeting the hott.
Mocking must continue. Oh yes. With tasty Hostess snack treat breaks allowed every four hours.
With tasty Hostess snack treat breaks allowed every four hours. And a fresh vicodin.
.
Every 60 days or so you have to fake a sprained ankle or back spasm and they fill that little brown cylinder right back up.
Which Phase of the war on douche is the Free T-shirt phase? Because that’s what I’m fighting for. Screw the hotts.
Markie Post’s younger half-sister is sporting the over-stuffed side boob. Actually looks kind of painful.
What’s ghosty holding the bottle of cognac wearing around his neck? Oh, okay, anal beads.
Boobies!
Did anyone mention that he is one pasty-ass motherfucker?
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DId anyone mention that she has one nice set of bulbous bulbular bulbs? Early Golden Globes nominee
The cans on the blond look seriously painful and I can’t believe a liquor store even sold a bottle of Hennessy to a guy that white.
Worst.
Implants.
Ever.
.
I never thought I’d see the day when a 20-something with large knockers would look so gross.
Guy on the right. “I hope you didn’t do all this on our account Clark. Kids come on out and see what Uncle Clark’s done to the house for us.”
As the obscure Greek philosopher Heraclitus the Weeping cryptically wrote, “All things are an interchange for fire, and fire for all things, just like goods for gold and gold for goods. Just like Douche for Bleeth and Bleeth for Douche.” Which lead to this equally obscure quote, “To God all things are fair and good and just, but people hold some things wrong and some right. And Douchebags are always wrong and never right.” I find it interesting how people used an uppercase “D” for douchebag in these ancient polemics, which signifies how over time douches have become even more maligned.
When fro’bag flicks his fingers against her boob the resulting GONG! causes Hong Kong Fooey to jump out of a nearby file cabinet and commence kicking ass on anything and everything that moves but who instead ends up chopping down all the shade canopies, pushing the waiters into the pool, and undoing most of the bikini tops. Hilarity ensues.
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It also summons a diminuative, swarthy gentleman in a white suit who hands me a coal shovel in order to fulfill my Fantasy.
@Dude McCrudeshoes^ You ain’t the only old hatter bringing up the dated cultural references my friend.
I thought I had seen those Avogadro implants somewhere before.
.
Ironically, they were derived using the bounce formula:
.
ln12
.
2.485 seconds of bounce when released from a height of 10 centimeters.
If you slap her boob it goes “thonk”.
@Scrotato Head,
My primary weapon is obscure cultural iconography. Obscure cultural iconography and dated pop culture references. OK… my *two* primary weapons are obscure cultural iconography, dated pop culture references, and long rambling… where was I?? My three main weapons are obscure cultural iconography, dated pop culture references, TLDR, and juxtaposition of unrelated socio-scientific memes. So, erm, my four… I mean five…
.
I did mention the weird looking boobies, right?
Pasty Cognac Chugger has the longest set of anal beads on record. He must have an 8 foot long colon. Don’t ever be embarrassed, Pasty. Wear those beads with pride.
@McCrude 2:44p. So those are your WMDs (Weapons of Mock Destruction). I believe the rambling one is most potent.
I love big boobs, even fakies with tatts nearby. The sluttier, the better. ‘Cause that’s how we roll in So Cal. Just check out South Coast Plaza on any weekend, and see for yourself.
“Chicken or the ‘Bag?” is an interesting conundrum as are other questions in life, but I wouldn’t recommend the pursuit of philosophical enigma.
I spent my youth pushing a shopping cart around the urban squalor of various cities throughout the world seeking scrap copper, aluminum cans and enlightenment. I hoped to gain an understanding of man’s relationship to the universe by pursuing Ultimate Truth. I tried religion, philosophy, meditation and drugs all in the vain search for Ultimate Truth.
I found that Truth can only be seen out of the corner of our eye. When we focus upon it, Truth vanishes.
I thought I was coming very close to total enlightenment once. I won’t go into detail, but it involved LSD, goat livers and a rectal thermometer.
It nearly killed me.
I approached the Truth, came close enough to smell the fragrance of it’s purity, but as I drew nearer, The Machine came crashing down upon me with all the subtly of gang rape.
@ Hermit
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You can’t handle the truth.
Call me a chicken, but if I had the good fortune to mack on left hottie, I’d come first. I guarantee it.
@ Hermit 4:49p, “Gramma, Grandpa is telling us stories about “The Machine” again.”
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Respect “The Machine.” It serves a purpose. But don’t let it run you. Seriously, this Machine business is ten times better than Frank Mercurio, Talking Dildo.
Do douchebags know they are douchebags? That sounds like the Dunning-Kruger Effect, where incompetent people are incapable of realizing how incompetent they are. Dbags must have a mental block, for if in a moment of clarity they saw themselves how they really are, there would a mass dbag suicide. (Oh, for that to happen. What a glorious day!)
Did someone ring a gong?
If there is a Peter Principle for douchebags, then Schilling-bag on the right has attained his place.
@Nancy
Rambling like an ADD auctioneer with a stutter is what I do best. That and and obscure cultural iconography. So wait… the *two* things I do best are… aw fucc it.
if you hit those tiities with an aluminum baseball bat, it would ping….& be dented!
btw, there is a jizz trail on dem behemoths
Neither the chicken, nor the egg came first, DB1.
The rooster came first.
Hence the phrase, “Fuck an egg!”
The Douchebag does not know he is a Douchebag untill he goes through the Enlightenment.
This site serves as a grand portal to the Enlightenment.
Or, as the English say,”Mocky-mock.”
Too many Hostess Ding-Dongs and the likes will give you a case of right-side-man-pictured-here obesity, followed by diabetes.
Carry on.
Did someone mention that he’s nice set of bulbous bulbular bulbs? Early Golden Globes nominee
Looks like this douchebag choose the fried chicken, on more than one occasion.