Ask DB1: Hipsterbags
Hugh Jass writes in:
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DB1-
My friend just forwarded me the link to your site and I promptly snorted a certain quantity of pasta out my nose in between bellowing laughter and retching gags. The riches! The wealth of humor! …Masterful.
But I see no Hipster-bags. You know the ones. Come on, the American Apparel ultra-lo v-neck wearing, skinny jeaned beardos getting run over by buses cause they wont put brakes on the fixed gear bikes they bought with daddy’s credit card.
You know the guys who just spent nine hours in front of the mirror trying to look like someone who hasn’t just spent nine hours in front of the mirror. The ones with pretty much nothing to add of value to humanity at large other than their shitty band which no one listens to except the hot chick they’ve somehow managed to hypnotize with the studied nonchaloance they bought in a how-to-guide from Gavin McInnes.
I know you have some of these dudes down south and god knows there are too many of them up here in SF stealing all the babes. No pictures? Really? There must be one worthy of superf@#kingbagdom…
Here’s hoping
Hugh Jass
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Indeed there is, Hugh.
Meet Randy.
Ears McDonald
PIC DELETED
Say what you will about Ears McDonald, but it’s not easy pulling off the Blue Steel while wearing silver stretch nylon pants, maintaining perky circular hair-faux, and crushing Roxanna’s thigh with your thumb-ring.
Gangsta Gerald
Gangsta Gerald bad.
Gangsta Gerald so bad, he don’t pay for no school lunch. He just takes the tots.
Gangsta Gerald so bad, girls making out ain’t enough to get Gangsta Gerald to break a smile. Or put up his hoodie.
Because Gangsta Gerald knows he’s phat. That’s phat with a “ph,” not an “f.”
Gangsta Gerald just wants to make sure you knew that. About the “ph” and not the “f.” Because Gangsta Gerald is sensitive about his weight.
Ice, Ice, Townie
Check out the limited labor market skills while his DJ revolve it…
One week to go until the 2008 Douchie Awards.
Bring yer votin’, people. There’s Douchies to hand out and perky coeds to perk.
Your humble narrator on all things choadie/assy, The DB1, is going through the mail and pulling a nice cross-section of pics for the week.
Stupid hangover. Thankfully there’s Red Dress Swan, with nuzzleable neck, to keep me going.
Ask DB1: The Pictorial 'Bag
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DB1-
A question for you…
In an age of spiritual, moral, and fashion uncertainty, one thing remains constant: digital cameras and their fascinating ability to allow you to see what the hell you look like in any and all given pictures mere seconds after they are taken.
With that in mind, would your expert opinion lead you to conclude that the ‘bags race back and forth like orange lightning between the camera and pose in order to achieve maximum captured douchocity? That they have practiced the pose enough times in the mirror to have perfected it, or that their douchi is so centered that they simply radiate the exact amount needed in any and all photographs?
Thank you for your consideration on this perplexing topic.
– J.P.
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As Baudrillard notes, the spectacle of the digital age has untethered identity by supplanting the real with simulacra.
Our notion of the self fractures into spectral masks of pixelated projection. This primal projection of the psyche predates our technological simulation, as Lacan notes. Seeing ourselves through the eyes of the “other” simply finds amplification in the Facebook/MySpace image race. Our swirling feedback loop of projections upon projections becomes a funhouse mirror of refracted and fractured identities, always rooted in notions of identity, but given room to overwhelm in the media age.
As such, these images become extensions of our corporeal touch. We rescramble spatiality to form kinetic sub-space where we reform as culturally coded and branded entertainment specters. This form of cultural currency as potent as anything Bourdieu described within the social spheres. A radical alterity of self through the prism of the Apple/PC proto-gender binary.
In short, douchebags may be temporarily orange. But boobies are forever.
Celebrity HCwDB of the Month: Aniston and Mayerbag
Al CaDouche writes in with a late season celebrity HCwDB coupling that will vie for a 2008 Douchie next week:
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DB1 –
I am an amatuer ‘bag hunter here in Chicago. I have never written in nor sent in a photo because Chicago is filled with scrote and bleeth. I could go to Wrigleyville every night and expose the world of douche in this city… but frankly I don’t have the time nor the SD memory card space required to chronicle the sheer numbers.
Anyway, I open the New York Times on Sunday and was smacked in the grill by a kissy faced Jennifer Aniston. Has hanging on John Mayer’s taint turned her into Hollywood Fung? I say yes.
Al CaDouche
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My distaste for the Mayerbag has a long history. You can read my rants on the douchosity of Mayer here and here.
Recently, Mayerbag penned some irono-cool letter to his ladiez, which you can read here.
Mayerdouche personifies “spectral douchosity.” Unlike the clownish Kid Rock, scrotewankery radiates from Mayerbag’s soul, not his cap tilt. Although he did get sleeve tatts. This tool is hanging on to his “above it all nonchalance” act, and failing miserably.
You suck, Mayerdouche. Dating Rachel won’t save you from that basic truth.
Pass the Turkey
Samir, haven’t you learned that you need to use both arms when lifting weights? Not just the left.
Mr. Bra!! Goes to Washington
It’s a super-quiet Friday on the site, so in lieu of Friday Thoughts and Links, here’s Hall of Scrote legend and 2008 HCwDB of the Year contender, Bra!!
Note Bra!! has ditched both his sexy sorority hotts and his tasty cola beverages, and is celebrating our Supreme Court in Washington, D.C. by busting the proverbial “move.”
Bra!! celebrates historic Supreme Court decisions like Douchey vs. Ferguson (1967) and Broheim vs. Board of Education (1955). These important cases paved the way for scrotal choadwanks to pollute hotts free from government discrimination.
As Justice Louis Brandeis famously wrote in 1935: Though we may want to kick scrotal choadmunches in the kneecaps when they headlock a sweet innocent boobie hottie suckle thigh, to do so would rend the fabric of Constitutional rights this country was founded on. Word.
Bra!! is ready for the 2008 Douchie Awards.
They begin December 8th.
Ask DB1: Axe Deodorant
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Hey DB1,
i have a question i was hoping you could answer for me. Now it is common knowledge that things like Axe and Tag are quite Douchetastic but the question I had for you.
What about Axe deodorant? I have friends who use Axe deodorant, and they are far from douche. I have even used it before. Does the label alone create douche-ocity?
I would really like to know. Thanks for the help and thanks for the site! Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue hunting the illusive D-bags.
DanishDouche
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If it can kill a 12 year old, then it’s probably not a solid life choice.
Gobble Gobble
Today is “Black Friday.” Apparently this is now a consumption holiday in which we ritualize a market system echo of yesterday’s food gorge by spending money on as many discount consumer products as possible.
Within this massive one-day collective purchasing power, we eroticize the acquisition of “product” as social act of self-inscription within larger structures of collective meaning.
But I will not participate in a ritual of spending money. Instead I will mock douches and lust after boobie hotties.
Here goes:
Nice star tats, Carlos Santana’s Bodyguard.
Boobies.
