Dave's Mental Meanderings
2004-08-30 21:54:25 (UTC)

You Look Like a Douchebag (People I Hate)

You look like a douche-bag. But don't worry, I'm here to

So it’s that time of year again. The middle of August
always brings with it a certain sense of impending doom…
whether you’re a 10-year-old kid who would prefer a root
canal to starting the 5th grade after 3 glorious months of
summer; a middle-age, middle-class wage slave who has
squandered his 2 weeks of annual paid vacation of dull,
pointless family excursions and has to wait until the next
calendar year for the next break from a mind-numbing, soul-
crushing job; a resident of Florida who not only has to
cope with the fact that neither you nor anyone else in
your state knows how to vote, but that the next couple
months will likely bring a hurricane that will make your
house look like a demolished Lego model after a fat kid’s
temper tantrum; or a beer-drinking, pot-smoking college
student like me... this time of year is never a happy one.

Among the many traditions I’ll be resuming for the last
time as I start my senior year here at Virginia Tech is
sitting at a picnic table outside my favorite campus
haunt – a coffee shop called Deet’s place whose only
downfall is its lack of a smoking section, which during
the winter months often forces me to make the painful
decision between having a warm place to do my homework and
freezing my ass off outside so I can fulfill my chain-
smoking habit – and doing homework for hours on end. I
find it to be much more conducive to work than my
apartment since I’m nowhere near a computer or phone (I
feel like the Alamo of the cell phone age, I’m the last
hold-out… I don’t currently own one and I don’t plan on
buying one any time soon), which makes it relatively free
of distractions. However, I am forced to endure the most
prominent drawback of this otherwise serene setting: the
hordes of assholes walking by on the sidewalk and checking
out their reflections in the tinted glass panes that make
up the outside wall of the building. And I don’t mean
this happens every once in a while. It happens all the
fucking time. The sidewalk in front of this place is a
major pedestrian route for assholes of all varieties going
to and from classes, dorms, the student parking lot, and
the gym. And it seems like every other one of them was
pulled directly from the pages of an Abercrombie & Fitch
catalog and hired to stare at his or her own reflection
for the entire 100-foot length of the building. So
instead of silently putting up with this shit for my last
year at school here, I’ve decided to take action. I’m
taking it upon myself to help those self-absorbed
cocksuckers to look slightly less like douche-bags. So
for those of you to whom the preceding description
applies… and you know who you are… please read this
carefully and follow all of my instructions, and you’ll be
well on your way to looking like less of a douche-bag.

First, the guys. Listen up fellas – the comb is not going
to hurt you. If you absolutely insist on applying hair
gel by the quart every morning, at least use a fucking
comb so you don’t always look like you just got out of a
swimming pool, wrestled with an angry badger, and stuck a
fork in an electrical outlet. Still want messed-up
looking hair? There’s an easier way to do it – get out of
bed and leave your hair like it is. What are you really
accomplishing by waking up with messed-up hair, using
shampoo and conditioner in the shower, slathering hair gel
onto your head, and carefully adjusting it back to that
messed-up look?

Next, let’s discuss the issue of polo shirts. Don’t you
think you look gay enough in a pink polo shirt when the
collar is worn correctly? Why must you go the extra mile
and turn the collar up, or “pop the collar” as I hear it’s
called? Just what exactly are you accomplishing? If you
want a shirt with a collar that comes up to your ears,
perhaps you might consider A FUCKING TURTLENECK!!! That’s
what turtlenecks are made for – fags like you who insist
on a ridiculous looking collar just for the sake of

Alright fellas, I saved the best for last – the one type
of clothing that makes me want to start killing orphans
and kittens whenever I see someone wearing it. And
ladies, this ludicrous fashion suppository is by no means
limited to the guys, so pay attention. Pre-faded jeans.
Holy fucking shit, what a marvelously idiotic trend. Did
you know that for the $70 you pay for a pair of pre-faded
Abercrombie jeans, you could buy half a dozen pairs of
similarly faded and more durable pairs of used Levi’s or
Wranglers at a Goodwill store and have enough left over
for a couple blowjobs from the hooker you’d have to hire
since you no longer look cool enough to pick up girls due
to the lack of a designer label on your pants. Seriously
guys, not only is it mind-numbingly pretentious to pay
extra money for pants that look worn out, it really pisses
off those of us who own legitimately faded 3-year-old
pairs of jeans. Every time I put on a pair of nicely
broken-in Levi’s that are faded from years of use, I run
the risk of being mistaken for one of you worthless pieces
of shit who isn’t patient enough to wear a pair of pants
long enough to give them that hip, stylish “working class”
look. You want faded jeans, you cocksucker? Do what I
do – wait a while.