Snake Pisskin
Question. Across the long and glorious subsections of douchological classification, what are those attributes that most rise to the top? That transcend ordinary scrotitude and invoke a higher plane of choad consciousness?
I would argue there are certain ‘bags who summon the ‘bag spirit without need for primitive hand gestures nor the Kissy Lips. What I like to term spectral douchitude.
Snake Pisskin here is one of these privileged deities that I speak of.
It’s not just that he’s corralled a sexy future librarian that I plan to awkwardly greet outside of her sorority house until she maces me and kicks me in the shins. How I love that soft blue dress and two tone brunette hair. She is a creamy dark haired soft serve ice-cream tilt-o-whirl of cotton candy carrot sticks. And if that last sentence read confusingly, it’s only because she dizzifies my wiki fantastic.
But it’s the tat-douchery that Snake embodies that sends this pic off into strato-wrongness. Pisskin’s ass chin. Top it all off with the bug glasses and you have a nice frothy serving of spectral douchitude far greater than the analytic sum of its parts.
In short, it’s Friday. He sucks. She’s hott. And it’s time to start drinking.
