Hot Chicks With Douche Bags

“Yea Though I Walk Through the Beaches of Douche”

Cast not thine holy douche spray uponst thy hottest of hotts. For the Tool is my Sherpa, I shall not spittle. Lo, into the abyss is Your stenchy facial fung and stupid hair. Let it not cast bodyspray uponst thine pear. For if it does, you will know Thine spirit hath foretold the unholy wrongness only whenst fondle is of purest suckle thigh by taintest of twatwaffle.

— Corinthian Leather, 25or6:4.

Douchebags are Apparently Back

I’m not okay with this.

Not.

Okay.

With this.

Unironic braggadocio with stupid hat and doucheface. Performed by shamelessly moronic hip hop suburban choadwanks.  Flashin’ Benjamins, luxury (rented) cars, and lots of paid-to-boobs as proof of alpha male package.

The stupid. It burns.

Yet The Huffington Post just called this the proverbial jam of the summer.

Not okay.

Reeks like foot fung. Like donkey dung. Like the absolute worst of the mid 2000s.

I’m not saying HCwDB is back. I’m focused on my Podcast these days.

But after we’d accomplished so much over the years, I am not okay with this. A pile of rank taintstain. A pustulous music ‘video.’ It is a step back into a fetid pile of sheep piddle.  It rankles the cockles of my benevolent soul.