Ask DB1: Woo Hottie Relapse
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DB1,
Forgive me fellow bag hunters for I have sinned.
My friends and I recently hosted a house warming party with some of the local Woo Hotts, and I had a rather unsettling moment. I became what I have mocked. The combination of cheap light beer and woo hotts was all it took to become a bag.
I will spare you the gory details, but safe to say I was punch-worthy at best.
So this is where my conundrum starts. Could I be as hypocritical as the Evangelical minister who rails about the evils of homosexuality, only to be discovered soliciting gay sex in a restroom stall? (Not that there’s anything wrong with that)
Could it be possible that I despise the chode because deep down I am one? I fear that blasphemers such as myself are destined for the deepest circles of Jersey, where they fist pump you for all eternity. I throw myself on the mercy of my fellow bag hunters who I have disgraced with my boorish behavior. What should I do, oh great and wise leader?
Sincerely,
Douchey Lewis and the News
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Fellow ‘bag hunter, fear not.
Every ‘bag hunter has acted douchey to score the hott. ‘Bag Huntresses similarly sin when they slip up and, after too many drinks and too much pestering, let down their defenses and hook up with a ‘bag.
We are all sinners. Every one.
The point is to move forward. Learn your lessons and do not repeat them. Hotts can be acquired without resorting to the spectacles “required” by our culture of conspicuous consumption.
Reject what you have been taught by the media industry. Find the authentic self. It is an ongoing life struggle that will never fully resolve itself. Know that it is the journey, not the destination. Keep trying, and it is in the trying that you will succeed.
And by succeed, I mean boobie reveal.
For penance, drink three shots of tequila, chase with a beer.
Then burn all Ed Hardy accessories within sight, while shouting “I cast thee Satan into the pit of hell”.
Find a hottie, and treat her right. Several times.
Then, you will be forgiven.
One bottle of good scotch, go out with your buddies and take on a fatty so they get the hott. Then you may Forgiven.
I’d like to hear the gory details! Then we can make proper fun of you.
Anyone can be forgiven the fact they realize they have a problem…the mere fact that you might have thought it felt bad,sounds like a lot of self -realization,therefore you are safe. See real douche bags don’t even know they are…and that’s the problem.
Does that sound rather like a 12 step program?
There should be a 12 step program for douche bags,can we start that ?
1)The first step is admitting you have a problem.
2) you guys do the rest…
Always remember … The true douchebag never thinks he’s sinning or a a douche … He thinks he’s pure awesome.
http://tinyurl.com/26fq6kv
http://tinyurl.com/2e4tevc
You must do extreme penance…say 10 Hail Mary’s, 20 Our Fathers, and 40 Dies Iraes, while subsisting on a Vegan diet of tofu, yogurt, lentils and mandana, er manna from heaven.
@Douchey Lewis and the News,
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There there, good baghunter – confession is good for the soul, and all that jazz.
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As the Boss said, we are all sinners. It’s called “The ‘Bag Within.” One must resist that scrote sitting on our left shoulder, hand gesturing and re-popping his collar, especially since it looks like this.
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Though we would understand if you had your head buried in the chest of the pink-boobied Hardy girl…..wouldn’t we?
I have been gone for a year……….
……and I shall be gone for another year.
I just returned to say, “Douchey Lewis, burn your clothes, they smell of all things unholy.”
Outta Here,
ASvB
Wait!! Steph nailed it! Give us some details, we will mock you, and that patches things up, and all of us will go forward. But did you buy and wear an Ed Hardy shirt for $200? Or did you let the chin pubes grow for 4 days or so? Spill!! It will be therapeutic for all of us, Douchey.
I don’t see a problem here. Hotties win, even wooo hotttts.
@ ASvB,
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Goodbye.
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*wiping tears *
First off I would never buy an Ed Hardy shirt. There was some facial stubble involved, but I guarantee that it was never sculpted. There may have been hair fwip involved, and torn jeans. Basically the problem wasn’t so much look rather than attitude.
My facial expressions and mannerisms were shockingly similar to those of Sharkbag. And we all know I hate that sum bitch. I had a look of accomplishment that was severely overinflated for a 5th year college senior who has 63 dollars in his bank account. Also you know that line between buzzed( and potentially charming) and full blown hammered ass-wankery? Well that line was a distant memory at about 6:30pm.
Sounds like you had a great time. Douche it up more often. Woooo hotttttts rule! Wooooooooooooooo. Get some!
d’jamaica?…. get some? all that matters when lettin’ the douche out
otherwise a sin without the payoff… ya gotta earn that spot in the fire, son!
He’s a douchebag. Just like the gay, once you’ve put one in your mouth…
DB1 said:
Every ‘bag hunter has acted douchey to score the hott…We are all sinners. Every one.
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Actually…….no. Sorry. Never did. Never would. Wouldn’t know how if I wanted to. I’ve got the aloof sociopath thing down to a science, but no choadwankery. The only thing I have in common with douchebags is that there are some people out there that think I’m an asshole. But not because of my sense of entitlement or the way I treat women. Most of them are villagers blaming me for their failed crops or for the hobo that got torn limb from limb on the moors. The fools! THE BLIND FOOLS!!!
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But I digress.
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So yes, in this rare instance, I get to cast the first stone. Douchey Lewis, I do believe that Mr. Biggs is right. Since you are aware and remorseful for your sin, you are not a true douchebag. I fear, however, that you may be something far worse…
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The gypsy saying goes…
Even a man who is pure at heart,
and says his prayers by night,
may become a douche when the Grey Goose flows
and the side boob is in sight.
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Douchey Lewis, you are…a WEREBAG!
(dum dum dum DUMMMM!)
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Werebags seem completely normal much of the time. But when presented with the chance to do a tequila shot off a woo hott’s abs, they transform into ego-driven, fist-pumping creatures of darkness. Their hair becomes spikey and crispy: the skin turns orange and strange, colorful welts in the forms of intertwined thorns or religious symbols may appear on it; your bodyfat will drop to about 4% and your credit rating will go in the shitter.
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But there is hope. The only cure for werebaggery is to get a job anywhere except a gym, a night club or a car dealership, and to know how to spell your girlfriend’s last name before you go anal. Do these things and the curse will be lifted.
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Godspeed.
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Godspeed.
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Godspeed. Take me awaaaaaay! Oh fuck. Now I’ve got ‘Nowhere Fast’ from ‘Streets of Fire’ stuck in my head. Fuck and balls.
that douche on the right is professional surfer Alek Parker
All sins are forgivable, if you buy into such primitive dreck and drivel and penance is nothing but the public display of guilt.
If you did it and it felt good – and you scored a Hott – than go with it and come out of the closet. If you feel soiled, scared and scarred then you can put this behind you and forget that the incident ever happened. Except for the pictures, that thanks to the age of the Internet, will live forever.
What does trouble me is the word “relapse” in the headline…Was this an editorial decision made for the sake of the headline, or is this a case of a true relapse, which connotes that Douchey was formerly a true douche?
While I cannot comment on the science, the Baron at 8:50 pm wrote a Hell of a piece! Kudos!
The Baron keeps a baronmeter of douche nearby, for what is a House of Horrors without a way to measure its effects on the visitors?
@ doucheywallnuts I woke up with an intense feeling of shame, but I’m already familiar with that sensation. This was a new a kind of shame that comes with resorting to d-baggery to score the woo hott. Which ended up being a hollow victory. Mostly because I was too drunk to remember the good parts.
“Relapse” was an editorial decision…unless DB1 is actually watching me. Wait what the…
anyone else notice the asshat on the left trying to get a palmful of Sweetness Magee and her one handed shot block? the look on her face tells me that three seconds after the picture was taken she made her drunk friends get their purses and screw out of there roadrunner style leaving behind perfect outlines of themselves in body glitter an Victoria’s Secret body spray (the douchette equivalent of axe).
Who amongst us in our collegiate days hasn’t felt shame, and a lack of remembrance whilst drunkenly pursuing and scoring a hott? she was Hott right? Please tell us she was hott cause in my case back in the day my shame & lack of remembrance occasionally coincided with waking up, wondering were the hell am I and looking next to me thinking “Really? she must of looked kinda hot at the time” as I quietly looked for my pants & shoes so I could get the hell out of there.
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Douchey as a kid in college you’re bound to make mistakes, thus the beauty of being young and in college, as long as you learn from them and live by the credo “you don’t have to douche to get the cooch”.
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Stay strong and tap as many young woooo hotts as you can.
I’ll also refute you assertation, DB1– The closest I came was at the tender age of 34 and I caught the eye of a 26-year old massage therapist from Poland. He had the BMW and the tight jeans and the nice build but no other signifiers. There was no alcohol involved and I had nowhere else to be anytime soon. I rubbed my scaly claws together thinking about the first-class railing I was gonna get at the hands of this lusty young lad, tight of ass and dirty of mouth. Turned out to be THE WORST SEX EVER. I got up midway through, bathed, and escaped into the snowy Chicago dawn. That learned me good.
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I can’t really say I have “a type” based on my past choices, but I know for sure what doesn’t do it for me. I can’t help but laugh at the ‘Bag type. I’ll spare him the indignity of posting his pic up here, but the ex-Mr. Oblongata is a ringer for Bam Bam Bigelow and once upon a time I found Mr. O. to be somewhat attractive. Somewhat. It was more about sense of humor. Ok, it was ALL about sense of humor.
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Aside from Mr. Biscotti, I think the most fuccable man on Earth is, no lie, Ghostbusters-Era Harold Ramis.. After that? Dennis Miller. Every time he said, “I don’t wanna get off on a rant, here…” I’d get off on a rant of my own, if you know what I mean.
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Unlike the Catholic Church, Douchey, I don’t think there is a any penance needed here. Self-awareness is a sufficient doctrinal element of bag hunting, I surmise, so your admission is enough. Besides, you do have the college defense. Treasure it, for when you march out of the hallow halls of academia, it will be much more difficult to hold the line and be the Vanguard against the Bagbarian Horde who descend upon our serene, existence and who seek to render us husks, perverted by the materialistic form and process that cast us into an endless of mindless ritual to fill that void we lost.
There are those who, in the spirit of striking a serious blow the Scrotilitary-Douchustrial Complex , walk in the valley of choad and bleeth and become a ninja bag hunter, then, sometimes you must act like them, but should you do, know that one mistake will draw you further into the orangey void.
Soldier on, Douchey, Soldier On.
Oh shit…I’m a WereBag! Damn you, alcohol. Homer Simpson said it best: “Booze – the cause of, and answer to, all of life’s problems”.
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@ Medusa: to Hell with your fool of an ex; we need to see a picture of Biscotti. (cues up Steely Dan’s “My Rival”‘and sulks in his dark room, much as Scrotato Head does…
Douchey Lewis, as a devout bag hunter, i appreciate your honesty, but at the same time, i must sternly and mercilessly – heeeeeeey 34 year old Medusa getting it on with 26 year old therapist!
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*goes off to jack off in the bathroom*
i’m sorry what was i talking about again?
… nothing important, i’m sure.
I would pay $200 for a shirt but it would have to be a fine quality broadcloth bengal-striped dress shirt with french cuffs and contrast collar (yay Gordon Gekko).
Self-awareness of baggery, although not an immediate notta, is a huge signifier. You’ll be fine. But never again, okay?
them are some tasty hotts.i can’t blame you
@ Darksock 9:10– I’d love to post a pic of him. I guarantee he’d love it (he’s also a Leo, therefore an attention whore), as he’s unabashed about his internet presence. But somehow I just don’t feel right about it. I can assure you, Mr. Biscotti bears a stunning resemblance to Frank Zappa, if he were to go on a brown rice diet. Troy, Wheeze. Mr. White, Mr. Biggs, Croosh and Dicy can verify that. If they actually sort through all my ranty political shit and look at my photos, that is.
Fuck it. He’d probably get off knowing we were talking about him. For those of you unfamiliar with Frank Zappa, here you go.
Frank Zappa.
Mr. Biscotti.
@ Medusa 5:12 PM,
first thing Mr. Biscotti reminds me of is Luigi. but only because Mr. Biscotti was wearing green and what appears to be an apron in that pic. um yeah.
@ Steve–Oh, you’ve already been beaten to that punch. I made this in May from a photo taken earlier that day. We were busting asses working on our house and he put on those old work coveralls. I came around the corner and about pissed myself laughing. He swears it was a coincidence. I’m not so sure.
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Ok, now that’s enough of us having fun at the expense of the love of my life. 🙂