RANTnocerous

These are daunting times for douchebag enthusiasts everywhere. Gone are the days where douchebags can proudly sport their Gotti inspired haircuts, tight shirts, and spray on tans. In today’s anti-douchebag society it’s becoming exceptionally rare to come across a true douchebag. Spotting a genuine douchebag is like spotting Sasquatch, a sight to be relished before the shrieks of “Douche!,” “Douchebag!” and the more recent “Douchebagery!” frightening said douchebag back into hiding.

I remember a time when we as a culture tolerated these douchebags; we will call these times any period before 2007. Then Phillip Defranco a popular YouTube celebrity goes by the alias “sexphil” came onto the scene and transcribed a “Douchebag of the day” segment to his video blogs to remind these douchebags we are not going to take it anymore. Featuring douchebags daily made it even more difficult for douchebags to roam freely in their habitat. The term douchebag spread like herpes; soon afterwards everyone was calling out douchebags like villagers pursuing Frankenstein.

Even though douchebags learned to adapt to society by wearing looser clothing and buying less hair product, they are still out there. There is not one definitive answer to why they took it upon themselves to blend into society; maybe they are planning a defensive. So if you have a douchebag friend please act accordingly; they cannot be trusted.

Check out sxephil on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/sxephil

Love Jedi,

Wonton

Douche Baggins: The Horrible Hobbit

At this moment there is something uncomfortably strange taking place in Arda, a world within the continent known as “Middle Earth,” something that has most Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men and Women befuddled, questioning evolution and even existence itself. These confused citizens of Middle-Earth don’t know whether to laugh or cry, to prance or puke, as one Hobbit has emerged from the misty marshes of the Shire (land of the Hobbits). That Hobbit’s name is Douche Baggins.

One evening this half-witted Halfling jumped on his Mustang and ventured out to meet the many mistresses he had on the side, each of these damsels were under the impression that Mr. Douche Baggins was a Hobbit of pristine principles, they all thought that they were his “one and only.” He spoke with a tacky tongue and would use lines like, “for some women I couldn’t imagine making it to the Hobbit life expectancy of one-hundred, but for you my beloved, I could easily live until I’m one-hundred-and-thirty,” “I knew you were going to be here darling, that is why I got all dressed up. Do you really think I would wear these green velvet britches, this red waistcoat and brown jacket for just anyone?” and of course the classic, “your Hobbit-Hole or mine?”

While riding his Mustang through the woods (which wore horseshoes with “spinning” capabilities) Douche Baggins was forced to come to a stop as several young pedestrian Elves were making their way across a path. At the exact moment that the Elves made it to the other side, Douche Baggins peeled off, making a horrible screeching sound, leaving dust in the air and eyes of the poor young Elves, The smell of horseshoe filled the Forest, and a trail of hoofmarks at least ten-metres long was left behind.

Douche Baggins carried on with his evening, without a care in Middle-Earth. After meeting and greeting his mistresses, Douche Baggins decided to hook up with his friends: Ho Baggins (the female equivalent to Douche Baggins), Tea Baggins (the frat boy cousin of Douche Baggins, who thinks it’s amusing to drop his nuts in your face when you’re sleeping) Dirt Baggins, Sleaze Baggins and Scum Baggins (the terrible triplets) and Money Baggins (the one who pays for the bottle service).

Later on that night Douche Baggins and his friends decided to frequent the new hotspot in town, “Pimpin’ Pippin’s Party Palace,” where of course Money Baggins paid for bottle service (Samwisers Whiskey). They crowded around their twined off booth pretending to dance, (not putting too much movement into their motions as that would make them feel far too feminine) heads bobbing back and forth while the rest of their body remained as stiff as Gandalf on Viagra. Douche Baggins in particular spent his night with a spiteful stare on his face as he Dissed the Dwarves, Eyed the Elves and Hated on the Humans.

Ho Baggins occasionally busted out her trusted feather and sheet to draw portraits of the “crew,” and in each and every portrait that was drawn, Douche Baggins stood there with his lips pursed, his chest sticking out, pipe-weed in his left hand, making a gesture with his right hand, that gesture is what we unfortunately know as, “The Shocker.”

At the end of the night, Douche Baggins stumbled his way through “Pimpin Pippin’s Party Palace,” in the process he crashed into many people in the crowd, carrying very little consideration as he made his exit. Douche Baggin’s then ran out into the Forest, shirt off, tribal tattoo exposed, screaming “Shire in the House!!!” and “Who’s your Hobbit!?!”

Of course for Douche Baggin’s, the night was a success, and he of course had plans of doing it all over again the next day.

Yes, Douche Baggin’s was loathed by loads: Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men and Women alike (even Gollum found him to be in his words, "the polar opposite of precious.”) and for good reason. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, the sad fact-of-the-matter was that they couldn't do anything, for even in “Middle-Earth” ignorance for some was still Douche-baggy bliss.

The End.

Talk to you sooner than soon,

-Samosa