Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Douche Springsteen
There is something inherently astounding when a rocker scrote can wear a bandana the size of an H3 on his head. There’s something even more impressive when that same scrote can have his douched out “Obey” shirt ripped off by two sweet nutri-grain cereal bars of wholesome 140 calorie goodness.
There’s something even more impressive when I can sit on my ass, pick crumbs off my shirt, chug a PBR, and only get midly annoyed that this wonky greased up ball of pseudo-rocker tan-in-a-can stomached bud lite sipping ferret occupies the same temporal time/space axes that I do.
It’s not that I’m a bitter and angry wanker, as the Brits say.
Oh wait, yes it is.
It’s exactly that.
