Corn on the 'Bag
If there’s one overriding concept at work in the creation of ‘bag, in the exploration of utter douchosity that shines from within, it is that ironic ‘bag is still ‘bag. Attempts to satirize the douche merely creates a secondary level of douchosity as pungent as any rotting, fetid primary level douchuousness.
My point? I’m hung over.
My second point? Doing the Farmer Ted + Dog Tags thing when it ain’t a costume party doesn’t mean you’re aware of the performative ‘bag and are thus satirizing the ‘bag. It still makes you ‘bag. The ‘bag within, externalized through irony, is still ‘bag.
As to tablecloth hottie, her body sings like sparrows on a warm summer day. As the wind rustles through the foliage of a perfect sunrise, the wind whispers, “booooooobieeessss.”
And I nuzzle in those hills for a fortnight while eating trail mix and pop rocks.
