Ask DB1: The Married Douche
I’m in a bit of a quandary. I have followed your site for quite some time now, and although I feel I am well versed in the ways of the douche, there is an elementary paradox that threatens the very definition of the “douchebag”.
By definition, the basic douchebag preens, greases, inks and basically creates the scrotal spectacle that is poo, all in the hopes of wrangling sweet boobie suckle thigh, correct?
What about the guy who is successful in this endeavor and ends up MARRIED to the hott he initially attracted with his craptastic display, yet continues his poo-trified ways? Technically, he should no longer be in pursuit of glorious ass pear, but there he is, in all his spikey-haired, Ed Hardy-wearing, 6-lb watch-sporting glory. Is he, by basic definition, still a douchebag?
What say you DB1?
— Manswine1 (Formerly “douche”, but recovering nicely due to your site)
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Once the male has married, he is no longer effectively “on the prowl,” so his potential to douche it up in pursuit of hott is reduced.
It is not, however, eliminated.
Douchebaggery is far more about being seen with the hot chick to prove one’s self worth in the societal hierarchy (via proof through pics on the internetz), than it is about actually scoring with the hot chick.
Married men are quite capable of douching it up to pursue hotts (or just their wife) in our image-codified online society of the spectacle. Therefore while opportunities to ‘bag it up can be diminished by marriage, in no way is marriage enough to mark nottadouche.
Interesting topic. Marriage by no means is a nottadouche pass. Another clear cut example of this is a man who turns to ‘baggery during a midlife crisis and adopts the signifiers such as the 6 pound watch, the hair grease, unbuttoned shirts, etc, in an attempt to convince himself he still “has what it takes” to pull hotts at the bar/club who are 20+ years his junior.
BTW, Manswine1, kudos for admitting former douchebaggery, and for giving props to this site for showing you the light! What stage did you reach? Stage 2? 3?? It’s gratifying to know that the mock truly can heal the afflicted. We truly are doing the Lord’s work.
Specer Pratt makes my taint itch.
BTW, love the early ass pear. Pool pear is some of my favorite.
I’ve often wondered this myself. If one is no longer sublimating self in pursuit of pussy, but instead just likes the way the hat looks tilted on one’s head, does that a douche make?
Don’t forget Cheat Bags, which is what 90% of douchebags become once they realized wedding cake kills female libido.
@ Merle Baggard:
I think if anything, it would make you MORE of a douche. As a hetero man, I can see why douchebags put on the spectacle they do to attract females. This by no means excuses their behavior, but it does explain it. But if you actually LIKE the way the hat looks tilted on your head, you’re most likely a douchebag down on some sort of primal or genetic level.
Corey quickly despatched the congregation in order to gain maximum air time with the guy from Snappy Couples.
After all, these would be the ones that would sit beside his softball vases for the years to come…in perfect view.. ready for when little Corelina started to bring her friends home after cheerleading practice.
I is a Vegas Ass Kicker like Kid Rock old School. Spencer Pwatt ?Is my home Boyyyyyyooo.I git alz up in that Heidi-Ho asds like Stallone on Speebalz yos.
Bunch o haterz.
I’ve witnessed far too many older married men trying to bond with their teenage son’s pals by douching it up bigtime. In fact, it’s as if they’re driven by some demented inner douche to be the biggest, baddest bag around. Pathetic. Really pathetic.
There’s nothing I love more than a success story. Congrats to you ManSwine1, I’m sure the journey to unselfdouchelization wasn’t an easy one. Sites like this are a blessing with a side of AssPear heaven indeed (Don’t forget the boobies!). As for your quandry, if said married douche was only douching it up to attract said hott then there should be no need for douchessories or douchitude after nuptuils…unless said groom to be is not ready for such a commitment then he must douche on until its all out of his system. If it is indeed his true hott1 then it will all work out in the end. The horses end, which someone will most assuredly pee in.
Pool Pear is fucking going into my family photo album. Make way cousin Abby, got to create room for some sweet, sweet tang.
Spencer Pratt has sandpaper where his taint should be
I love Pool Pear so much I want to take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant.
Spencer Pratt has an ingrown hair in his urethra
Spencer Pratt has strawberry yogurt instead of white blood cells
Spencer Pratt has experienced Nirvana, the time he caught is cockk in his zipper them fucked Heidi with an oozing laceration
Spencer Pratt has earned his red wings though not with Heidi but with a $100 Vegas hooker at Fitzgerald’s during an meth binge in 2002
Spencer Pratt has the lap band but it’s installed around his brain
Spencer Pratt once took a pepto bismol enema and then played a fart orchestra version of BÖC’s ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’.
Spencer Pratt has a lawnmower that runs on low-potency sloth jizz which he obtains from a Paraguayan farmer named Gonzales.
Spencer Pratt has a superfluous third nipple, on his left knee
Spencer Pratt wakes up every morning to a smoothie made with wheatgrass, children’s tears, shark penis preserved in lye, and mangoes.
*childrens’
Spencer Pratt has a Kimbo Slice cockk replica up his ass during all waking hours
and maybe it’s because i’m a bit more of a chauvinist than DB1, but i keep saying that it’s the bleeth that’s the shepard and the douchebag the sheep. While yes, many men are douching it up to get the hot, I guarantee in many cases, like we saw with Douche Ex Machina, the bleethy wife contunually positively reinforces the DB image…remember that certain types of DB;s are considered what’s hot and women compete even more aggressively with other women than men do men (though more subtely as well) and so a woman will take great pride in showing off the mate she’s chosen…and that mate is normally in large part her design…he’s less “seeking” sweet sweet poon tang pie and more just trying to keep what he’s got/keep her from bitching.
Remember, “happy wife, happy life.”
Anyway, take out the shepard and the sheep will run free.
Kimbo Slice cocck replica. Har-Har-Hardy-Har-Har. Does that make Fred Flintstone a douchebag?
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest, everybody laughs and kicks the smooth oozing spot where he should have man stones.
Bruce Cockburn told me.
Are they still married? That’s so last month.
BTW, Jacques, can you tell us about the first time you saw a female lifeguard getting out of the pool?
divorce rates around the world keep increasing, yo. at some point in a man’s life someone will likely accuse him of being a douchebag, regardless of whether he actually is one.
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest:
No one would give a shit.
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest:
I hope he lands head first, on a rock, made of dynamite.
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest:
One can only hope that he breaks all
his arms and legs, and bites off his
tongue so that he cannot cry out for help.
–
A slow, painful death from dehydration and
starvation would give me hours of enjoyment.
–
Wow, that kinda sounded mean.
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest:
I hope all the furry forrest creatures have their way with him.
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest:
Would anyone from HCwDB.com call a medic?
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest:
Would you choose a Merlot or Cabernet to go with Kobe beef tenderloin?
Spencer Pratt should be seal-clubbed
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest, he still better be here at 10:23 am sharp. My oatmeal doesn’t cook itself.
I would say a ‘bag continuing to ‘bag out after the wedding is one who is desperate to know “he’s still got it’. Granted, in Pratt’s case we’re talking about a young man, so douching it up is kind of to be expected, especially considering he’s from Hollywood or whatever. But when we’re talking about dudes who are sliding into their mid-30s, have become overglorified cab drivers for their screaming brats, well….it’s more about making sure they’re still viable.
.
Just as a woman will show up at work with a freaky-ass drum-tight facelift after a long weekend, so the middle-aged ‘bag grabs up some Ed Hardy and Affliction to assure himself he’s still the virile young stud he once was. However, I’ve had it explained to me that at 35 a man becomes invisible to 18-year old girls. Unless, of course, he is insanely wealthy and/or famous.
.
I’ll also give a nod to AOD and his theory that it starts with the bleeth. You see teh interwebs packed to the gills with pics of slutty, wanton skanks draped all over douchebags. So, it stands to reason that ‘bagging it up would get a man same said action. But same goes for the Bleeth–nice girls see these raccoon-eyed, skunk-haired, star-tatted runny gashes with muscular dudes with hot cars and they morph into the same in order to compete. To that end, it becomes some sick chicken-or-the egg debate, a mobiius strip of poo that twists and turns around and around itself….
.
All I can say is that I’ve given Mr. B. my all to explain the dangers of douche. I’ve made it clear what falls under European Exemption, and that anything beyond will not be tolerated. I’ve made it clear that I intend to spend the rest of my life with an Italo-nerd. I will not take kindly to having my dreams of being with a physically attractive version of Brian Poeshn taken away. The rest is up to Mr. B. If I ever catch him shaving his glorious chest-pelt and taking bathroom pics to send out to MySpace woo hotties, I’m going to beat him into a coma with the taxidermied peacock in my living room. Then I will stuff it headfirst up his ass, take pics and post them all over the web. And the photos will bear only this ominous warning: PEACOCKS GET PEACOCK’D.
RE Spencer and Heidi’s wedding….those two got married in a church?
.
Jesus wept.
@Fatness,
Mos’ def’ the Cabernet. Preferrably Silver Oak from the Napa vinyard… 1997 vintage was splendid.
Cheers!
The married douchebag can then perform the ultimate bit of douchebaggery: cheat on his spouse with one or more bleeths. For the trifecta, he needs to a) get the bleeth preggers, and b) give his wife the STD du jour.
.
Just remember, hotties, douchebags come and go, but herpes is forever.
@Crucial – Meh. Ridge, Alexander valley, 1993.
or
Trefethen millenium reserve 2000
Medusa:
.
You had me at “Mobius Strip of Poo”…I may not have Mr. White’s bladder, or Scrotato Head’s negotiation skillz, but I do have access to mass pharmaceuticals and mad amphibious landing skillz (…as it were…).
@TT,
.
One of the best bottles I ever tasted was a ’97 bottle of Ridge – Monte Bello. Just a touch better than the Franzia Chardonnay I partook of with dinner this evening… which held currents of oak, earth, carboard, public toilet seat, and a slight taste of taint uponst the inevitable regurgitation.
@ASvB^
.
“a rock, made of dynamite”
.
Heh heh heh!
Hey D’Sock, you still have some of that homemade Mescal or some shit you were tauting last year?Perhaps it was absinthe… I cannot recall.
@ Troy, Crucial:
.
May I suggest a fine 2010 (09/27/10) Reserve Crystal Meth from South Gate Trailer Park, Richland MS USA?
I am fucking hammered right now. Is it Friday yet?
I have drunken much
And my head buzz like bee nest
Hotts need my penis.
@ Croosh:
.
O Lörd we speak not of the Absinthe. I had the real deal from Europe via my brother in Romania; let’s just say that mountain top, while quite exhilarating, does not justify the valley.
.
Stick to Acid. Trust me.
@Sock,
.
Thats a fine vintage boss. I hear they grow that stuff on trees down yonder.
.
Trailers, that its.
@Sock,
All I remembe.r is your rambling, partially coherent comments on this site as Katrina bore down uponst your pad… fuccen history in the making… and you were pulling from some bottles of Absinthe and I caught myself more than a few times wondering… “I’d trade places with the ‘Sock right now if I could wet my parched throat with but a taste of ye olde absinthe.”
.
Then I saw the news the next day.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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Still woulda been worth it though, aye!?
The best wine I ever tasted I sipped out of Mrs. Scrotato Head’s vagina as she lay inverted with heels to heaven. I can’t remember what vineyard it came from. In fact it might not have been wine at all. Maybe Mr. Pibb, or maybe Tabb. I declined her offer of a straw and instead drank directly from the chalice.
.
Strawberry with the faintest hint of Summers Eve.
.
We did not talk about the yeast infection that came on several days later.
@Croosh^
Drinking because the work is too f*cking crazy?
You need a reason to drink? Crap.
.
I’ve been doing it wrong.
.
Thanks for the vintage recommendations. I’ll have to see if Mrs. Fatness is feeling viticultural…Scrotato gave me an idea…
@Mr. Scrote Head
.
Work. Wife. Kids. Remodeling.
.
And fucking douchebags like Spencer Pratt all up in my mug everytim I turn on the TV or pull up the interwebz.
.
And because I have an IQ above 110 and it’s after 6pm.
Cheeeaahhhhhsss muuutthuufuucccckkkaaaaassss!!!!
.
*uuurrrpppp… … … hic*
Like a couple of my douchier married acquaintances have told me, “just ’cause I’m married don’t mean I stop thinking single.” The douchebag doesn’t look at marriage the same way as someone who actually considers it a sacrament. The only sacrament for the DB is GSR-related.
Which is why married douchebags and bleeths must be shunned at all costs. Their union is built on a twisted logic that you will invariably get tangled up in. Run, and take some pics along the way so we can laugh about it all at the alimony hearings.
@ DarkSock 9:28
You know, having dabbled in Ambien three weeks ago I can tell you that your offer of Pharmaceuticals piques my demons. And I can’t drive a car worth a shit, so I assure you that I would never complain when I was face-down in a sandbar with a boat on my head.
.
@ Mr. Biggs ^
You know, when I hear shit like that I gotta wonder…why even get married in the first place? ‘Cause now you have to lie every time you go out prowlin’. Now you have to clean up behind you every time you’re up to no good. And it’s not as easy as it was; now there’s cell phones, texts, emails, social networking sites, browser histories, hell, even the GPS on the car can betray you. Why bother with all that? Just stay single and you don’t have to worry about it. I never got that. If you’re not done sowing your wild oats, don’t put a ring on her finger. And if you’re afraid you’ll lose her if you don’t, but you’re too much of a coward to tell her that you’re not ready, then you’re a stupid fucking fat pussy (not the bride) and deserve to get busted, an STD, lose your house and kids and be a fucking asswipe forever.
.
And you are correct, Mr. Biggs–they do tend to suck people in to their miserable web of deceit somehow. Why is that? Misery loves company? Everyone goes down with the ship? As I was screaming my final insults at Mr. Oblongata and kicking aside his collection of six-pound watches and Harley T-shirts, it occurred to me how much our shitty marriage poisoned everyone around us. Like he wasn’t going to be happy until every dude he knew treated his wife as shitty as he treated me. Maybe it was because he felt guilty, and if everyone else was doing it, he’d feel better. Maybe because he would need to pre-arrange some single bros to hang with after I inevitably left. Who knows. Nothing burned my ass like seeing emailed wedding photos with me cropped out of them, being sent to fuck-all slutserfaces all over the planet. And if they ever met him after the 200 lbs he gained since the wedding, I assure you, they’d laugh harder DB1 in a Hostess Outlet store on clearance sale Wednesday.
Kudos to pool pear’s buffalo pear for always having his camera at reach of hand.
And kudos to pool pear for I long to know the depths where her leopard is disappearing.
Heidi and Spencer, aka the cultural equivalent of AIDS.
Spencer Pratt’s left fibula can pivot out of his calf and serve as a red wet kickstand, but only if his member is engorged.
Spencer Pratt has a Jewish shoe he keeps in his pants to absorb the high frequencies his left testicle, which is a bio-tweeter, constantly emits.
Spencer Pratt has a large black mole in the front of his rectum that carves a 1/4″ groove into his stool, and also prevents his asshole from ever fully sealing shut against the cold cruel world.
Spencer Pratt coined the phrase “Not in my RV you don’t”, and he also murdered a boy scout in 1973.
By the way, who the hell is Spencer Pratt?
Spencer Pratt is such a pussy when he gets a haircut, they charge him for a Brazilian.
Wow, Medusa, apparently I hit a nerve. But I completely hear ya. I’ve come to the conclusion long time ago that in order to be “successful with the ladies” a man must necessarily be a fraud. Because if you’re truly attracted to a woman, you’re too obsessed to want anyone else. And if you’re just out for a good time, you can’t admit it to a woman because they generally don’t take it too well.
So ya gotta lie with the “baby I’ll love you forever and ever.”
Problem is, you gotta believe it, she’s gotta believe it, anybody who doesn’t believe it needs to die. Enter the downward spiral.
But the good news about a breakup from something like that is you can start to find good people again, and reorient yourself around the real world. Yeah, you’ve got a battle scar, but anyone older than 30 who doesn’t is really too naive for my tastes.
@ Scrote Head
–
I wrote that on the way home from work.
I was giggling like a school girl.
–
ASvB
If Spencer Pratt falls in a forest
And nobody knows or cares
Would he still have an agent?
Feck Pool Pear, here’s some pool beaver http://1m1f.com/Caplin/