Sunday, October 1, 2006
That 70s Douche
There comes a time in every man’s life when he must make a profound decision. A moment in which he stares into the abyss and asks himself one very deep and life altering question:
Should he douche or not douche?
In the case of this quasi-retro 1970s roadkill, the choice was made long ago. Perhaps in the crib. He would douche.
Years passed. And now here he is, featuring a touch of chin pube goodness, giant douche glasses, and the douchiest nylon shirt this side of a Wilmer Valderaama garage sale.
As to that delicious line of cleavite? I’d put it on a bun, add some mustard and sauerkraut, and feast with deep and profound merriment.
