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Confronting the Growing Douchebag Problem

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Douchebaggery is nothing new to the world. The origin of douchebags dates to somewhere around the Middle Ages. Why, just think of that one homo prince in “Braveheart”. Total douchebag. And that was, like, the fifth century or something. So douches have been around these parts for a while.

The modern douchebag archetype really took hold sometime in the late 60’s/early 70’s. It was during this time that the douchebag became an urban phenomenon, best personified by acclaimed director and total pussy Woody Allen, seen here:


Guhhhh, what a douche. Anyway, this more cosmopolitan douchebag – which manages to combine whiny insecurity with an almost sociopathic self-centeredness – was the standard bearer well through the Great Asshole Spike of the 1980’s. But this douchebag was relatively harmless, easily suppressed by Assholes and Badasses alike. Certainly nothing to worry about. I myself fit into this more traditional douchebag mold. I’ve come to grips with my own douchey tendencies, and I spend every day trying to control them the best I can. It isn’t easy, but it’s all I can do.

As we progressed into the 90’s, a new kind of douchebag emerged. This MegaDouche, if you will, was cockier than its forebearer. And dumber. Here’s a visual:


Yes, they can reproduce. Ugh. It was around this time that this Aggressive Douchebag population began to explode. And now, we’re faced with a crisis unlike any other in recent American history. These nuveau douches must be destroyed or, at the very least, barred from ever entering a recording studio. But there is hope. A movement against these douchebags has sprung up organically, as a common cause of all rational Americans. Hot Chicks With Douchebags is doing their part. And the immediate backlash against the Duke lacrosse team for rape allegations, despite flimsy evidence, is proof that people want douchebags to be made an example of. Here’s what you need to know to protect yourself:

Douchebag FAQ

Q: Hey, what’s a douchebag? 

A: Douchebags are men who are unknowingly inconsiderate, self-serving, obnoxious, and overall, ANNOYING. 



Q: That’s a boring definition. Spruce it up. 

A: Douchebags snd txt mssgs. Douchebags laugh at their own jokes. Douchebags will repeat a joke they made that you didn’t laugh at because they think you didn’t hear them. Douchebags tell you "this is the best part" 50 times when you watch a movie. Douchebags spend more time bitching about how much work they have to do as opposed to actually doing any work. Douchebags are, simply put, douchebags.

Q: Are you a douchebag? 

A: Again, no. I have made the transition to full-on Badass. 



Q: Can women be douchebags? 

A: No. Women who exhibit douchebaggy behavior are called Shitheads. 

Q: How big is that list? 

A: Holy friggin’ crap, it’s huge. That list starts with any woman who owns a cat and goes on and on after that. 



Q: What if I own a cat? 

A: Any single man who owns a cat is either the biggest douchebag in recorded history or a serial killer. 



Q: Name a famous Shithead. 

A: Drew Barrymore. Watch any interview with her and your eyes will glaze over, as if baked in a kiln.

Q: Can a woman be a Shithead and a Bitch? 

A: Yes, because of the menstrual cycle. 



Q: Are gay men who act like douchebags also called Shitheads? 

A: NO. Oddly enough, a gay man can be a douchebag, but not an asshole. 



Q: Give me the classic example of a traditional douchebag. 

A: That’s easy. Kevin Arnold from "The Wonder Years." Kevin bitches all the time to himself about how much he wants to tell Winnie Cooper that he loves her, then never has the balls to just say it. Jesus Christ, you fucking pussy, strap it on and be a fuckin’ man! 



Q: What about an Aggressive Douchebag?
A: Watch any old footage from Woodstock ’99 and you’ll get a sense of what makes the MegaDouche tick. Or watch MTV. There are so many douchebags on MTV, you can practically taste the vinegar coming out of the screen.

Q: Can douchebags reform? 

A: Much harder for a douchebag to reform than an asshole. Don’t know why. Once a pussy, always a pussy. 



Q: Are douchebags good for the world? 

A: Not really. Assholes, terrible as they can be, are almost always productive. Douchebags tend to dither about and generally act like total dipshits. And anything a douchebag accomplishes is generally not done as a byproduct of their douchebaggery. The world would be better off without them. 



Q: Hey, why is Ozzy a douchebag? Ozzy fuckin rules! 

A: But he almost killed his wife in a drugged-out stupor a few years ago, then didn’t remember anything afterward. Much as I love the guy, he’s a douchebag. 


Q: Are most Jewish people douchebags? 

A: No, you racist asshole. 



Q: Who’s the world’s biggest douchebag? 

A: That one’s a toughie. Because douchebags don’t vary to the degree that assholes do, it’s hard to pick one that stands out. For traditional douchebags, I’d probably have to go with Ross from "Friends." Just an amazing douchebag all around. How do you mess it up with a piece of ass like Jennifer Aniston? Or is it Eddie Furlong in "Terminator 2"? God, he was a little piece of shit. “No, Terminator! Don’t kill people!” Hey kid, fuck you. I paid $10 specifically to watch the Terminator terminate some motherfuckers. Let him do his thing. Or what about Eddie Furlong in real life? See how hard this is? 



For the newer MegaDouches, the easy answer is Kevin Federline. Arrogant. Brain dead. Absolutely no internal sense of self-criticism, despite the fact that the entire world reviles him. It’s hard not to think of Kevin as the quintessential Renaissance Douche.

Q: Who’s to blame for this douchebag epidemic? 

A: Bad parents. Period. Did you name your kid Braden, or Landon, or Jordan, or Tristan, or Carson, or Ashton, or any other disgustingly preppy name? Then YOU are responsible for starting your kid on the path to douchebaggery. Do you give them everything they want? Well, fucking don’t. God forbid they learn to develop a fucking work ethic. Do you let them wear anything they want? Eat anything they want? Do you do everything in your power to get your kids to like you because your Daddy was cold and aloof? Bad move. Your Daddy had the right idea. You had to bust your ass for his approval. That’s smart parenting. This whole “I Want To Be Close To My Kids” thing is total horseshit.

Q: Who’s the most surprising Douchebag? 

A: Probably Tiny Tim of "A Christmas Carol." Yes, the kid’s poor and crippled. But that doesn’t excuse that dipshit "God bless us, everyone" line I gotta hear every Christmas.

Q:
Jesus of Nazareth: Asshole, Badass or Douchebag? 

A: You turn water into wine, my friend, and you are a fucking Badass. 



The most important thing right now is for everyone to recognize the douchebag problem. You won’t be seeing this on the cover of Time or Newsweek (even though you ought to). Word must be spread at the grass roots level. As soon as everyone acknowledges the problem, we can go about figuring out the best way to solve it. This newer douchebag model is virtually impervious to ridicule, so we have to be creative. In the meantime, I’ll publish a comprehensive douchebag list later in the week to get the ball rolling.

Midnight Questions And The Evil That Men Do

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I do not get to sleep easily. In order to fall asleep, I have to do a few things. First off, I must have an orgasm in some way, shape or form. No problem. I can take care of that in two minutes flat. Second, I have to get whatever song lodged inside my head to go away. This is a fucking horrendous task, especially if I’ve been to Target that day and forced to listen to “Baby, Baby” by Amy Grant at least three times.

Third, I have to clear my head of all thought. You would think this would be easy. I am not a deep thinker. There are lots of people who spend time thinking about God, or death, or the state of world affairs. I am not one of those people. Mrs. Drew will sometimes ask me, “What are you thinking?” and it’ll occur to me that I was thinking of absolutely nothing at all. “I got nothing,” I’ll tell her, and it’s the God’s honest truth. And even if I were thinking about something, that something is likely to be animal crackers.

Yet, when I lay down to sleep, suddenly my brain turns on full throttle. “Hey Drew, what if Metallica got their shit together and made a decent album for a change?” “Hey Drew, do you like fried zucchini? We should make some!” “Hey Drew, when do we get to drink next?” Fucking brain. I have to get all that residual shit out of there before I go to sleep. The only way I know I’m getting to sleep is when I start thinking about random shit, like unicorns, or a blonde Liza Minelli. Shit like that.

And that’s the place I had reached the other night. I was all ready to drift off to sleep, when Mrs. Drew suddenly asks me this:

“Hey, where do you think the mailman goes to pee?”

Are you fucking kidding me, woman? I’m trying to sleep here! You just set the process back a good half-an-hour! Now I have to go jerk off again! Where does the mailman piss? I don’t know! At a fucking Starbucks, like everyone else! Guhhhhh. Women are masters of the Midnight Question. Mrs. Drew doesn’t do it often, but every woman will happily spring a difficult question on you just as you’re about to hit the hay. They could have asked this question any other time during the day. But noooooo, it’s gotta come out at 11:59PM EST. “What should we make for dinner tomorrow?” “Do you think the baby can dream?” “What are you itching?” Dammit, dammit, dammit, no thinking! It’s sleepytime! I demand silence!

This also brings up two other funny things about Mrs. Drew. First, she’ll happily continue a conversation that I assume had ended three days earlier. Apropos of nothing, she’ll say, “So, I think we’ll go with the Rosy Peach.” Huh? What? Is that code or something? “The paint. For the dining room.” Well shit, where did that come from? I need this shit prefaced! I need to be briefed on the details of what we discussed before! That shit goes right out of my brain to make room for all the Amy Grant lyrics. You know that!

Second, Mrs. Drew will project the evils of other men onto me. This is a universal thing that women do. If any man anywhere does something horrible and shitty, they’ll automatically assume that you’re capable of the same thing. Here’s an example. The other night we watched “Match Point”. Good movie, not enough nakedness. Anyway, the dude in this flick (SPOILER) takes a mistress, knocks her up, and then offs her with a sawed-off shotgun. Sweet. Later that night, in bed, Mrs. Drew says to me, “Don’t you go getting a mistress, then getting her pregnant, then killing her.” Well, why the fuck would I do that? I can barely remember to make a sandwich for lunch at work. What makes you think I’m a murderous psychopath prone to infidelity, woman? All of that shit takes effort. And ambition. No thanks.

All I’d like to do is get some rest. And some fried zucchini.

UPDATE: A incredibly nice emailer helps answer Mrs. Drew's question:

"Sorry if this is a bit late, but this is a response to your Midnight Question post. Feel free to pass this along to Mrs. Drew. Or not.

You see, I know where the mailman goes to pee, because my mother is a mailwoman. The simple answer is that she goes home. When she just started, she used to get assignments to deliver mail to bumblefuck, so she'd have to find bookstore or a coffeeshop (this was before a Starbucks was on every corner) on that side of town, preferably one she was delivering mail to. Later, when she got a regular mailroute that was closer to home, she would just go home for lunch (and to use the bathroom). I always wondered if the neighbors thought there was something illicit going on at my house when they saw a mail truck parked out front for about half an hour in the middle of the day.

Also, it's interesting what kind of skills you pick up as a mailperson. My mother is the best parallel parker I've ever known. I'm convinced that if the government fired her, she could get a job as a auto stuntwoman. I don't know how much call there is for short Asian car-driving stuntwomen, but she could probably do an admirable job."

Thank you a million times over, my friend. A good night's sleep awaits.

The Douchebag List

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Before I delve into this, it’s important to note that the Aggressive Douchebag of the modern era also goes by the name of poseur. If you see any guy sporting the following:

-Popped collar
-Frosted or spiked tips
-Jeep Wrangler
-Lacrosse stick
-Barbed wire tattoo
-Arrogant smirk and/or an absolutely enraging sense of self-satisfaction

Run away. Or else this guy will have you drinking Franzia and listening to the Beastie Boys in no time. Beware!

Again, this is a mere sampling. If you have any issues with this list, feel free to add to it in the comments. The following people are douchebags:

-The Gotti children. I’m not lying when I say the world would be better off if these children were dead. Like Paris Hilton, these people are sociopaths who haven’t killed anyone yet because they are too fucking weak and stupid to do so.
-Ken Griffey Jr.
-Terrell Owens
-Graduates of Harvard University. The over/under on a Harvard asswipe telling you he went to Harvard? Seven seconds.
-Linkin Park, Good Charlotte, and any other pussyass “rock” band that is not Queens of the Stone Age
-The French
-Poets. Half of all poems are about poetry. This annoys me to no end.
-Dick Vitale
-Scrappy Doo
-Any guy who pisses in the middle urinal of a three urinal bathroom
-Steve Forbes
-Anyone from Cincinnati
-Quentin Tarantino. Badass movies, though.
-TV host James Lipton
-Any grocery clerk who needs “the key” to scan an item. Hey fuckstick, why don’t you just keep the key on you at all times?
-Any MTV News "Reporter"
-Internet movie dumbfuck Harry Knowles
-Everyone responsible for the film "Magnolia"
-Ozzy Osbourne (sorry, Ozzy)
-Eddie Furlong in "Terminator 2”
-Everyone on the Academy Awards telecast
-Marilyn Manson
-Roger Ebert
-Writers for Pitchfork.com
-The staff of Rolling Stone magazine. Green Day saved rock? My ass.
-Billy Crystal
-Darren Star (thanks for creating "Sex and the City," you fucking douchebag. Hate that show)
-Fans of the Boston Red Sox
-Anyone associated with Duke University
-Terry Bradshaw
-Your younger brother
-Jerry Seinfeld. Girliest man ever on television.
-Any guy that doesn’t finish his beer
-Anomalous Yankee douchebag Paul O’Neill
-Jim Koch, brewer of Sam Adams. I work in advertising. This man’s voice is on a tape loop in Satan’s waiting room.
-Paul McCartney (post-Beatles era)
-Anyone who went to prep school (Hey. That’s me!)
-Anyone with a last name for a first name (like Carter or Blake or some other preppy dipshit name like that)
-Carson Daly (See what I mean?)
-Anyone who "summers in Nantucket"
-Anyone who skis and walks around saying how much they love “fresh powder”
-Frasier Crane and Niles Crane
-Billy Joel
-Fans of Billy Joel
-Your friend who got a new girlfriend and doesn’t do jack shit with you anymore (I did this)
-George Bush (the older one)
-Waylon Smithers from "The Simpsons"
-Hamlet. What a puss.
-Kevin Arnold from "The Wonder Years"
-Most independent filmmakers
-Ross from "Friends"
-Larry King (by the way, have you ever noticed that Larry King only likes shitty movies? “Cutthroat Island is a slam-bang thriller! Cracking good entertainment!” An endorsement from Larry King will take $20-$30 million off your opening gross, guaranteed.)
-George Costanza
-CNN newsman Aaron Brown (“What I’m saying is important!”)
-Rodney King
-Trekkies
-Emeril Legasse
-My buddy Scott, who actually thought it was funny one time to punch me in the nuts. This whole punching-other-men-in-the-nuts-because-it’s-fun phenomenon is wrong and fucking annoying.
-Bob Costas
-Jay Leno
-Any contestant on "Deal or No Deal"
-Richard Simmons
-The guy who decided to show chicks peeing in Penthouse
-Fredo Corleone
-Woody Allen
-The Ken doll
-Arsenio Hall
-TV critics who keep insisting that Bonnie Hunt is funny
-Rivers Cuomo of Weezer (good band, though)
-Obi-Wan Kenobi (“So what I told you was true! From a certain point of view.” Try saying that shit to Han Solo.)
-Luke Skywalker
-Kurt Cobain (who killed rock and roll, which is a topic for later discussion)
-Most environmental activists
-R.E.M. lead singer Michael Stipe
-The Tooth Fairy (cheap dipshit)
-Hugh Grant
-K-Fed
-Most Olympians
-Pip from “Great Expectations”
-Styx
-80’s metal band Stryper
-Jon Bon Jovi
-Ahmad Rashad and Sean Salisbury. Both former Vikings. Guhhhhhh.
-Your high school or college valedictorian. Valedictorian speeches are always brutal. You know the type. “It seems just like yesterday when we walked through these doors, the world filled with possibilities, but also a little scary too!” Kid, all anyone wants at a graduation is to get to the roll call. Hurry the fuck up.
-Anybody who wears a letter jacket for a non-sport sport (like Band, or Debate, or Cheerleading, or Lacrosse.)
-Every dipshit on MTVs "The Real World"
-Your high school swim team
-Cameron Crowe. Cameron Crowe movies are bullshit. “Jerry Maguire” was a chick flick that purported to be about sports. “Almost Famous” was a chick flick that purported to be about rocking with your cock out. I hate this man and his painful earnestness.
-People who like Cameron Crowe movies
-The Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly Lion
-Kobe Bryant
-George F. Will
-Robin
-Pauly Shore (Sorry, Tiff)
-The video store clerk who keeps urging you to rent "Evil Dead 2"
-Andy Rooney
-Anyone who wears black jeans and white sneakers
-The Snuggle Fabric Softener Bear and the Honey Nut Cheerios Bee
-John Rocker
-Packer fans
-Chris Berman
-Peter King
-Pundits (All of them. Liberal or conservative. Die. I would like you to die.)
-Joe Theismann
-Billy Crystal. Again.
-Vince Carter
-Frankie Muniz
-Ashton Kutcher
-Tom Cruise. Of course. Tom Cruise loves the douche!

My Child Will Have Bad Taste In Music

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Kurt Cobain killed rock and roll. He was a master songwriter and his band kicked a lot of fucking ass, but he still killed rock and roll. You see, Kurt Cobain made it okay for rock stars to be insecure, and to get in touch with their inner feelings. Which is a good thing, as long as the people doing that sort of thing are as talented as Kurt Cobain. And they aren’t. They so fucking aren’t, I want to mainline formaldehyde right into my system. Take a look at these dipshits:


This is the “rock” band Good Charlotte. These guys are fucking terrible. Simply looking at them makes you a lamer person. Tilted cap? Check. Spiked hair? Check. Lip ring? Check. Completely inane finger tattoos? Check. An alto for a lead singer? Check. Take a good look, parents of the world, because your kids will one day end up listening to the shitheaded output of this band, or some other Douche Rock band like it. That whole Israel/Lebanon scrape is mere appetizer to this battle.

If you want to teach your children about how to properly rock, you must ingrain in them the DFF Principle, which states that rock ‘n’ roll can only be considered truly rocking if it’s about the following three things:

-Drinking
-Fighting
-Fornicating


That’s the list. I make absolutely no exceptions to this, unless the song happens to be about ancient dragons, three-headed Satanic dogs, or some other crazy ass fantasy shit. Cocaine and other drugs can also be substituted for drinking, so long as you’re glorifying their use. But if you’re singing about your girlfriend who dumped you, you’re just James Taylor with a wallet chain. If you’re singing about world peace, you’re fucking Bono and you’ve stopped trying to make interesting music. You are not rocking.

The very term “rock and roll” was originally just another name for screwing. It’s inherently not rocking to get away from that. If you want to be a real ass rock star, you better be getting fucked up, fucking someone, or fucking someone up. I read about the band AFI the other day. Two of the members of that group are vegans. The lead singer of the Killers is Mormon. This is bullshit. I won’t stand for it. I’m a married man living with two females, and I demand rock stars that I can live vicariously through. Badass motherfuckers like Josh Homme, and James Hetfield (80’s James Hetfield, not the shell of a man you see today), and Slash. Would Slash write a song about how much he missed his dead mother? Hell no.

That’s what rock stars are supposed to be: selfish pricks with no regard for anything except their own vices. You know who does that now? Hip hop stars. All the cool shit about rock moved over to hip hop ten years ago, and rock has done nothing about it. Jay-Z is a badass motherfucker. I bet he could kill the dipshit from New Found Glory with his bare hands, or have an underling do it for him. That’s why hip hop rules the charts now. Oh, girls may say they love a sensitive guy, but what they really want to do is hang out at Big Boi’s house, get sloshed on Kool-Aid and vodka, smoke high-potency weed, dance on the stripper pole in the bedroom, get dogged by a crew member, and then get shown the door at 4AM. You won’t be seeing Coldplay treating women so poorly, and that’s why Coldplay sucks. We need rock stars that are willing to degrade themselves and everyone else around them.

That’s what I want my child to aspire to. Not this whiny ass “Wah! I was abused!” crap. If you had a rotten childhood and want to turn to music for salvation, you need to put up a completely false front of arrogance and compensate for your sadness by banging oceans of groupies and snorting untold amounts of cocaine. That’s being sweet. Anything less is being James Blunt. Screw you, you limey bastard. I want Lemmy from Motorhead to drive his Harley right over your underused penis.

And none of this indie rock shit, either. Oh, the Shins changed your life? Well then, your life needs more grain alcohol. I do not abide by Death Cab for Cutie, or Modest Mouse, or any other weakly-named record store clerk wet dream band. Those bands have shitty names. Real rock bands are named Thunderballs, or Love Pump, or Pussy Patrol. Death Cab for Cutie? That’s fucking refrigerator poetry.

The real problem is that there’s nothing on the horizon to suggest a turnaround. We’ve created a culture of mass douchebaggery, and this crap music is the end result of it. And to think, I’m going to be called lame by my daughter for liking AC/DC. Are you fucking kidding me? This world is bullshit.

So kiss my ass, Kurt Cobain. I hope Courtney Love manages to find you again in the afterlife.

FKS’ Greatest Hits (Updated)

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This is FKS. My name’s Drew. I have a child that eats, cries, sleeps, and shits, in no particular order. I don't update FKS anymore. I post twice a week or so over at NFL site Kissing Suzy Kolber. If you don't like football, I suggest you go anyway for your daily dick joke fix.

Below are some of my favorite bits from FKS. It’s hard work creating a site that appeals to angry drunks and closeted perverts, but I’d like to think that I was more than up to the task. If you're new here, I recommend you check out the older posts. There are no throwaway dipshit posts here at FKS. Except for maybe one. Or two. Whatever. Check them all out if you're interested in wasting your precious time:

Five things that will scare the shit out of your kids

My brush with Playboy Channel infamy

The legendary (in my mind only) Father’s Day post

Why I fucking hate cats

My historic five days alone with the Girl (Days 1-4 are on the side when you click)

I teach you how to kill bugs like a certified Badass

The Drexl Spivey tribute. Sit down, boy, and grab yo’self an egg roll.

All the stuff that makes me a kickass husband

My experience with biofeedback therapy

Hooray, alcohol!

Catch up on how to properly brag like an asshole parent

One formidable night with the Girl as a newborn

The Chosen One emerges

And, of course, the post that started it all.

An impessive output, to say the least. Whoopi Goldberg would give both her testicles for material this good. I had a blast writing these. Hope you like them. Some of these posts may get erased in the future for reposting over at the Phat Phree. I'm sure you'll live.

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and/or comment here. That was the best part of this whole thing.
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