Reader Mail: We Are Pitiful and Pathetic for Insulting Them
From last week’s Winged Shirts thread:
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Why do you guys honestly insult men and women you know nothing about? You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school which is actually usually the opposite of what occurs. Typically, the men that are this dedicated to aesthetics were scrawny or overweight during their adolescence and this is their way of overcompensating for the imbalance of the social life in public school.
You people are pitiful and pathetic for insulting them. You’re also most likely envious and let’s not forget that even if half of what they are wearing is “gayer than Elton Jon”, they’re still looked up upon in comparison to you.
— Just an Ordinary Man
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Since you’ve provided no spelling errors for me to mock, JaOM, I will only note that anyone who defines narcissistic body display as “aesthetics,” or comes up with lame pseudo-Freudian excuses for pumped up pool-clowns involving theoretical childhood trauma, is a puffed up weenie ween.
Neener neener.
How about the guys who write in to a website to whine about us wasting our time making fun of a bunch of morons? I think that guy is a real Douchebag. You’ve just won a 2011 Douchie for Stupidity.
Who is Elton Jon? The Swedish Environment Minister? The employee of the Month at Crazy Sven’s used Audis? Share it with us!
“Typically, men that are this dedicated to aesthetics lack souls and have no intellectual life to speak of, and this is their way of avoiding the terrifying prospect of even a nanosecond’s reflection on their own vapid, lonely, pointless existences.”
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There, I fixed it for you.
The words were spelled correctly, but this email was still pretty much incoherent. However, I must credit the author for not using “hater” or “hatter.”
Agree with Charles Nelson… you can’t spell John?
Also, Billy Baldwin lip-purse equals douche. It is written.
JaOM, why are you all wee-wee’d up?
Since we’re talking about assumptions, Ordinary Man, “most likely envious” fits the bill. Here’s a better one: People on this site are most likely tired of the bullshit of preening human “aesthetics.”
“Why do you guys honestly insult men and women you know nothing about?”
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Because dishonestly insulting men and women we know nothing about would just be wrong.
uhhh… I’ll continue my insult donations to the pitiful and pathetic society. I am neither scrawny or overweight, just a class act bag-hunter.
Sounds like “Ordinary Man” could be a valuable asset to tracking the origin’s of the “New Douche Order”, to do so self appointed “Ordinary Man” could simply send us his Facebook friends list.
I can think of a lot of things for you get worked up over; injustice sits at every crossroads. But really, of all the people that legitimately need defending in the world, are guys like Pink Speedo Ass among them?
Just an Ordinary Scrote that does Pschycology on the side.
A picture is worth a thousand words OG.
I’m not envious of a scote “look up upon” by other scrotes
Yeah I said something in the same comment thread about why hatters gotta hatte on a little innocent fun we have with web pics, when they know nothing about us. They must be virginal 40 year olds living in their momma’s basement. Except their mommas are rich and they can afford the weekly tan sessions.
So Just an Ordinary Man, you’ve never called a stranger an asshole without first sitting down and getting to know them better? You have never looked at an attractive woman and thought “Dayum, I wonder whether she’s a screamer or a moaner?” It is only people that you are intimately acquainted with that you make disparaging remarks about? Shit, your family and “friends” must love you. Maybe you stumbled in here by accident and didn’t realize that this is a comedy site. It’s not like it isn’t obvious. But, being the magnanimous dickhead that I am, I’ll give you a very brief reprieve. For you see, I think you “doth protest too much”. I always have been and will forever continue to be a hard-core geek to even being to be a douchebag. You, on the other hand, seem to have spelled out more by saying “Typically, the men that are this dedicated to aesthetics were scrawny or overweight during their adolescence and this is their way of overcompensating for the imbalance of the social life in public school.” A douchebag says “What?” Before you start hurling stones, don’t forget to check that your glass house is still standing.
The spelling (besides Jon) may have been okay, but the sentence structure needs work. Mr. White had an excellent correction above.
We’re not just negative assholes. Example:
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I’d kill an albino snow leopard with a Swingline staple in front of a clearing disapproving audience of male nurses just for the privilege of eating a used Albanian army boot full of her shit.
“guys who beat on you in high school”
If I had a nickle for every time someone said this in a email to the DB1….
I have never been accused of doing anything honestly. Honestly, Son. Come at me bra!
Regarding the photo:
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The “douche point” is this generation’s “jazz hands”.
I’m gonna go ahead and say that I believe it’s 50/50.
most stage 2’s have probably always been that kinda mid-level douche guy and most level 3’s and 4;s probably were in fact, not popular back in the day.
If you were slaying vagina, and lots of it from 15/16-30, you’d be bored with it. If you didnt really get into full swing of things til 21 or so, you’d prolly have a decent “career” til your late 20’s with some added douchetributes.
and then it really comes down to how much do you wanna dedicate your life to pussy? I’ve had periods of being so much more consumed with other shit i’ve forgotten to ask anyone for a date or strike up a convo for a month or two and then had other periods where i’ve slept with 6 women within 6 weeks (two recycled from earlier that year i must admit) because it just got easier and easier (women smell other women on you, and unless your wife or serious gf, they love it)….and then i’ve had things just sorta steady and balanced between work, play, and women.
that’s all while single. now i have a gf, i’d say a serious one, and as example, up until Sunday we had sex everyday twice a day for the previous 9 days in a row after a likely 5 day spree with a day or two off between…thats a lot of fucking for a non-porn star, fully employed man i’d say cuz i did look around on sunday and say “man, i wanna read, watch a movie, lift some weights, SOMETHING other than rubbing my already numb cock raw inside you.”
oh and p.s. i’m prolly as stage one with occasional stage 2 leanings for life. Stage 4’s for halloweeen…
And when i say bored with it re: vagina slayer from 15 on, i mean as in the constant acquisition of new women and the whole “GTL” lines, drinks, schemes, routine and you’d either settle down or slow down
Really?! These men are looked up to? Guys who pay absurd attention to their looks – with mediocre results at best – or wear ridiculous status symbol clothing are role models? YES, kids, forget intelligence, global awareness, developing your character, a sense of empathy, strong values, respecting the opposite sex … it’s all about getting your tan on, gelling your hair to the consistency of a sea urchin, draping yourself in gaudy, overpriced clothing, and macking on the “hotties”!
REALLY?! These men “were scrawny or overweight during their adolescence and this is their way of overcompensating for the imbalance of the social life in public school.” REALLY?! I was a girl, and I remember getting the shit kicked out of me on a daily basis at school because I was the awkward, insecure brainiac with acne, bad Harry Potter glasses and braces until I graduated university. Aesthetically I’ve transformed myself, developed a solid sense of style, and think I look pretty damn good. I would feel that way, even if others didn’t say as much, and they do.
But it would take the movement of mountains to change me on the inside. If anything, my experiences made me stronger. They taught me to appreciate kindness and to pay it back. To be honest and upfront and have no problem calling asswipes like those featured on this site on their bullshit. To respect others and demand respect in return, ESPECIALLY from men. To not place an emphasis on aesthetics and material things.
Who are these guys seeking revenge on? The average person that they’re showing off in front of probably wasn’t the same guy who pantsed them in the locker room during sophomore year. There is NO need to be overcompensating; if anything, it just shows people that you’re just as insecure as you ever were, ESPECIALLY if you decide to start threatening to “kick the homo asses of any hatters ” when a douchey photo of you ends up on this site. GET OVER IT.
um duh….cuz its funny.
Abner scrambled to collect his school papers and books before the sea of laughing students threatened to carry them away forever. He pushed his glasses up his nose not just to keep them from falling off but also to hide the tears that spilled uncontrollably from his eyes, tears of anger, humiliation, and shame. For the second time that day Jake had smashed into him in the hallway, sending him crashing to the floor, his schoolwork flying in every direction. For the second time in a row his ears had been crushed under the wave of explosive laughter that poured in upon him from every direction, laughter that just wasn’t loud enough to drown out Jake’s surfer-tinged sneer of “F*ck Assner, watch where the f*ck yer walkin, dumbass! Dude, you are such a f*ckin pussy assed, f*ckin dickwad, dork faced D&D geek motherf*cker.”
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Abner reached for his physics book just as Jake’s flipflop crashed down hard on it. He felt his knuckles give way under the weight and squelled so loudly that the laughter around him stopped just as if someone had jerked the headphones from their ipod. He tried to pull his hand free but simply wasn’t strong enough to move the athletic, blonde figure that had him pinned to the floor.
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Jake leaned down and slapped Abner hard across the face sending his glasses flying, a second squeal bursting from the A-student’s quivering, tear soaked lips. He slapped him several more times until the boy was reduced to screaming uncontrollably. The crowd beyond Jake began to shift and move slowly, the clear discomfort of seeing the thin, homely boy being beat so badly by the much larger kid finally breaking through to some.
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Ingoring the few calls to leave the boy alone, Jake leaned in close to Abner and whispered in his ear, “Dude, you f*ckin make me sick. You and yer f*ckin books, and yer f*ckin glasses, and yer f*ckin dorky ass f*ckin clothes, and yer squeaky f*ckin voice. Listen up Abnerd, every day, every motherf*ckin day I am gonna make yer f*ckin life abso-f*ckin-lutely miserable. An’ dude, every day when I’m kickin yer f*ckin ass yer gonna beg me to stop. But bra, it ain’t never gonna happen.”
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Jake ground his foot back and forth on the boy’s hand as he stood back up. Flipping his long blonde hair out of his face, he smiled and looked at the uncomfortable faces that surrounded him. “Dude, watch where yor f*ckin goin’, jees’s.” The tension broke quickly, relief passing across the faces of Abners classmates, each of which lowered their eyes as they passed him, each quickly becoming lost in his or her own world.
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As the hall emptied, Abner gathered the last of his things, picked up his now broken glasses and put them back on his red face. His hands shook uncontrollably and he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing against the lockers.
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“No more,” he hissed to himself, tears and snot mingling at the tip of his nose. “No more.” He balled his small fists and slammed them into the lockers at his back, his teeth clenched with a rage he’d never felt before. “NO MOOOOORE!” he shouted, the words ringing down the corridor, bouncing off the closed classroom doors. “NOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOORE!”
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“Dude! Earth to Abs! Earth to Abs!” Scott waved the bottle of Bud Lite Lime in front of Abs’ face, causing him to start. He blinked his eyes several times to regain focus, turning to face Scott, the club lights bouncing off the mirrors and off of the other man’s orange skin making it difficult for him to get his bearings.
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“F*ck bra! Where did you go, dude? I been shouting at you for like, I dunno, for ever.”
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Abs took the beer and threw back a quick swallow. He pulled his aviators from where they were perched on the back of his neck, put them on his face, and pushed them up his nose. He looked at himself in the mirror behind the bar. He hadn’t been to the gym in about a week. He could feel his arms getting softer, his gut building fat back up again. He looked at the tattoos that crawled out from each sleeve and down each tan arm, tattoos that peeked up above the collar of his brand new Ed Hardy shirt. His gelled hair was just as thick as it had been in high school, not than anyone had noticed back then.
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He turned to Scott and raised his beer. “Lifes good, right?” he asked.
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“F*ck yeah!” Scott shouted, tipping back his bottle. “Booze! Bros! Blow! Bitches! Life is f*cking awesome! Whooooo!”
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Abs raised his glass halfway to his mouth, a smile trying but failing to form.
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“Dude,” Scott said, leaning in, “Dude, can you cover my drinks tonight? Lost my f*ckin job at the grease shop. Can you f*ckin believe it? I’m good tho, bra, you know it, right?”
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“Yeah,” Abs replied, downing the rest of the beer quickly and gesturing to the bartender, “Life is good.”
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Because that’s what every picked on geek in America aspires to after a youth spent in misery.
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Please.
It’s been awhile Mr. Scrotato Head but man when you bring it you really bring it. Kudos sir!!!!!!
Nerd sex, D&D style:
Bravo, Scrotato, bravo. I hope I stop laughing soon.
JaOM,
Not sure what planet you grew up on, but mock makes this one go around. Also, if you’ve ever spent time with the class of person who’s pictures are featured on this site, or have been in ear shot of a herd of them at a club or pool side, you would know that all THEY do is judge people based on their appearance. So fucc off.
DW
I agree that we are pitiful and pathetic for mocking them. And they are pitiful and pathetic for letting us mock them.
If they were real men, they’d find us and kick our ass. Or come up to the Wedge on the next big south swell, swim out in the lineup, and yell “Hey Wedgie, you pathetic & pitiful loser”. And I will swim over and drown your sorry ass.
The Wedge is at the end of Channel Blvd. in Newport Beach, CA. Now you know where to find me when the surf is pumping.
No more excuses, assholes. Bring it.
Why do you guys honestly insult men and women you know nothing about? You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school which is actually usually the opposite of what occurs.
I anxiously await our searingly sharp “Ordinary Man” to reveal that he has been studying this extensively in a Sociology department at a top tier institution. Actually, no, I’m not, for true to his name, it would take a paradoxically mastery of such pedestrian thinking to lament our supposed ignorance based on faulty assumptions in one breath. Then, without pause, jump into a magnificent extrapolation and generalize from the particular, which in this case is informed by nothing more than his own personal slant on his experiences. Methinks, he was too busy trying prep for those homoerotic hazing varsity rituals and skipped inductive logic. Why, with such a lack of self-awareness that leads to his not even considering the end of his cheap sangria-induced syllogism, it’s as if he is trying to defend himself and his scrotey courtiers by displaying so uncouthly the very folly we find so humourous.
Of course, with limited circumspection and meta-cognition, we can only expect the scrotological sycophants to clutch their puka shelled necklaces and grab onto any pop psychology they managed to read in a byline whilst trying to find the cheapest tanning prices online. Oh look at that:
You’re also most likely envious and let’s not forget that even if half of what they are wearing is “gayer than Elton Jon”, they’re still looked up upon in comparison to you.
Yes, of course, mocking people is, by consequence, equivalent to our secretly admiring them. I mean, without a doubt, Bill Hicks and George Carlin all secretly wanted to be Evangelical Christians or Republicans. After all, Tedd Haggard, Jerry Falwell, and Pat Robertson are all revered in comparison to those two philistines. Surely, the yardstick used to lionize a known hypocrite and two demonstrable bigots must certainly be the universal one, and it is hardly informed by cognitive, emotional, and personal biases. I do enjoy making relative probabilistic claims of reality based on knee jerk, emotional reactions, don’t you?
someone failed an audition at American Idol and now desperately wants to be just an ordinary man? who knew?
If DB1’s response to JaOM is any clue, about half of us probably enjoyed nooner-nooners.
“You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school”
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No. I’m basing my attacks on the assumption that a guy who dresses up like a fifteen year old girl, struts and hams in front of the camera like a drunken ape, and treats women like pieces of shat-out beef jerky, must be an asshole.
“You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school”
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No. I’m basing my attacks on the assumption that these guys really think they’re cooler then they’ve left the shop with a stupid tribal armband and without their money. Because their money is in my pocket and they are still not cooler.
“You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school”
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No. I’m basing my attacks on the assumption that if I were to have a conversation with any of these men, it would sound like “GROOOOOOOOOSPORTS ME LIKE BEER GRRRRRRRUNNNT YEAH BRA FUCKIN PARTY!” Because I am related to one and that’s pretty much how it goes every Christmas.
“You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school”
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No. I’m basing my attacks on the assumption that these men who beat on me (a woman, natch) in high school grew up to beat their wives and therefore deserve to be mocked for the frightened, shallow little scaredy-boys that they still are.
“You’re all just basing your attacks on the assumption that these men are the same guys who beat on you in high school”
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No. I’m basing my attacks on the assumption that none of them have turned out to be as funny, successful, clever, interesting and delightful as the nerd boys I went to high school with. One grew up to be a Matthew McConaughey clone and works for the USPS. His pesky little brother became a sexy, strapping fireman. Another one wedded a cellist for the Chicago Symphony and works for the FBI in Langley. Another one does free surgeries at Loyola for little kids with cancer whose families can’t pay and have no insurance. All I’ve seen/heard of the star jocks/douchebags from school is tales of DUIs, unemployment and failed marriages. They were too busy working on their lats to work on character and overcoming adversity, like the nerds they tortured. And I have hot sexy sex with a guy who was the little fat boy with the gap in his front teeth. Now he’s a long, lean hot sausage with perfect teeth, devilish eyes and is loved by all who meet him. He had to work on that thing called ‘personality’ in his teenage years. The rest came as a reward for being a good human being, I think.
First off, Mr. Scrotato Head, wow.
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I’ve been thinking a lot about this site lately–you know in the 15 minutes I have before bed and getting back to a 60 hour week.
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The thing that baffles me is that there are so many fucking pictures of these people in the public domain. Christopher Lasch was right: fundamentally narcissism is a fear of getting old an dying. Photographic immortality captured while pretending to be a statue of a greek god.
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Don’t judge a book by it’s cover? I dunno–maybe that’s true, but it’s scary how consistently one can judge a douchebag by his picture.
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The need for these people to see themselves and to be seen is so great that they share countless pictures of themselves with people you don’t even fucking know.
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It’s disgusting.
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Pictures are for the mantle. Unless I know you, I couldn’t care less.
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Except to mock your ridiculous ass. Thanks for all the pictures!!!
Correction ordinary asshole, I know everything I need to know from those awful photos of puffed up roided dingbats. A picture is them is at least worth 1,000 mocks.
Medusa,
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Damn girl! Way to bring it.
When you read Medusa’s flames, even though you know you’re not the target, you can still feel your testicles being driven up into your body by the tip of her thigh high red leather boot with the steel encased toe and the heel with the little smear of what looks like darker, sticky red on it but you don’t want to know what it is ‘cuz it could be sticky brown too and all you’re really hoping for is that her boobs will keep bouncing long after she’s done kicking you to death.
@DoucheyWallnuts – Excellent point sir.
Kids-
I think the keyword “aesthetics” should tell you that this is piece of /fit/ retardery…