Friday, January 5, 2007
Sketch II: Clubber Wang
Play that funky music, white douche.
What I want to know, aside from how a scrote this overwhelmingly douchey hasn’t been drowned in a river by now, is what the hell that wall is supposed to be. Is that like club-as-insane-asylum ironic commentary? Or are they partying in an abandoned shock therapy clinic?
Most importantly, the douche-face-o-meter score is off the charts for Sketch in this one. This has to rank slightly above “Want to Punch My Monitor until my Hand is a Bloody Stump,” and slightly below “Want to Insert My Face into an Electric Cheese Grater.” And the dude still can’t figure out how to put on a shirt.
