American Idiot
Billie Joe Armstrong just wrote a musical about redundant points.
Oh wait, he actually did.
Otterhead Makes Yet Another Redundant Point
Perhaps I’m making a redundant point about The Redundant Point.
But it’s a redundant point about The Redundant Point which actually reinforces its point by repeatedly repeating the redundancy of the Redundancy of the Point. Which is the point.
Which means it really isn’t redundant at all. The point about the Point. Not the Point.
Alex Rodweenus Makes “The Redundant Point”
Okay maybe I’m pissed that the Red Sox are the most craptastically overhyped disappointment since JarJar nuked the fridge, so I’m gonna take it out on Yankee Fan #2 here.
Yeah, you, Billy.
We haven’t properly mocked the Redundant Douche Point in awhile. So it’s worth making this salient point about our photographically obsessed culture once again.
No need to point at said Hot Chick.
We know.
Your restatement of the obvious + smug face (+ Yankee cap) = stage-2 douche violation. Your z-neck shirt makes you shoescrape.
Your Thursday Morning Coffee Drip
Y
ou needed something to go with that donut.
Like Cyclops Mike. Who’s looking at you. And at you.
And the Cindy Sisters. Who look rather sultry, even when buying their Lee Press On Nails after Happy Hour at the Red Snapper Bar & Grill where they waitress on Tuesdays and Fridays.
Morty the Happy Rocker Causes Kim to Hang Herself
There’s only so much happy rocking that one girl can take.
The Afflicted Gnome
The Afflicted Gnome asks you not to mock his affliction. Which is halitosis. And a bad credit score.
So rather than restructure his debt, he’ll stare at some sexy bar wench boobosity.
Speaking of bar wench boobosity…
For those of us who fantasize about cigarette stained breath, a husky Kathleen Turner voice, social maladjustment and anger issues, and a heartbreaking tendency to ignore us and flirt with every bartender who doesn’t smile when serving them their Blue Moon, here’s my gift to you: Jolene The Boozy Bar Wench Hott.
She will break you.
The Tardopoulous Brothers
Remedial Cooking 101 was never the same for The Tardopoulous Brothers (Dimitri and Randy) when “Miss Ace Hardware 2011,” Stephanie McGee, stopped by to offer words of encouragement.
And glorious medically enhanced lizard brain short circuiting humpty gnaw slappy slap Holy Cleavite Reveal.
Morty The Happy Rocker
Ming Shyuen is deeply honored to study in this country, and she thanks you, but she can’t help but coyly giggle and wonder why Morty is such a heaping douchewipe.
When Groin Shave Reveal Kills
Sure Marty has little to look forward to for the rest of his life in outer Long Island other than occasional trips to Dave & Busters to relive his lost youth playing the retro T2 game.
But for Jenn and Patricia, the lovely ladies of Spring Bake Fest 2011, Marty can make sure of one thing: Acid Reflux For All.
Reader Mail: Douchebags in the Midwest
———–
Dear DB1,
Why do normal midwest girls think douchy dudes are hot?
I myself hate em. but my friends (not I) run to them like a flock of seagulls. I dont understand please please help.
I have included two photos of my BFF and her stupid new boy.
enjoy
– Angie
—–
Ah. The cosmic question.
The answer to the hottie/douchey coupling, young Angie, lies not in the seeking of conclusions or concrete end points, but as a path of sequential investigations leading to a higher truth through process.
As the great Talmudic scholar Rashi once taught us, “God knew where he was, but he asked so as to start a conversation with Adam and avoid startling him too much to reply.”
The conversation, as the Tanach teaches us, not the answers, is wherein we find the revelations of the God shards. Follow these questions like Adam and God, as dialectic, as what Derrida calls the metaphysics of subjectivity and the incongruences of the text, and the process of interrogation, in and of itself, will lead to revelation.
For all will ultimately be revealed in the glorious and holy mathematical curve we call pear.
