I hate douche bags. I mean, I utterly loathe them. They are the bane of any good man's existence. They are arrogant, oppressive, ill-styled, abusive, repugnant, and...amazingly...usually swimming in a sea of desirable women. It is their arrogance and confidence and supposed style that is the key to their success, for there are many women who are drawn to these qualities to the point that they are blinded by the obvious detrimental qualities of said douche bags. They are so varied and diverse in their pockets of douche bag culture that there is seemingly no end to their proliferation and adaptation.
It is as obvious as Richard Simmons sexual preferences, I harbor resentment.
That is why I am thrilled with my new position. I am being paid to rip these fuckers a new, bloody asshole in front of a captive, national audience. Yes, beware, over-gelled Guidos, stinky indie-rocker fucks, primped prima-donnas, overzealous frat boys, and muscle bound ass faces, I am your worst enemy. I am the demon perched on your bed post, waiting until dark has blanketed the earth to slash your doucehy throat with my #2. My pen shall stab your soul. My quill shall kill your thrill.
My first project is to rearrange the digestive tract of an indie-rocker who's whole shpeal is too close to home. He is a creature that can be found in abundance mere miles from my domicile, begging for a spot in a photo blog that will ordain him too cool for school, neater than Peter, more hip than Chip. He has the clothes, a band, women at his feet, and an IQ in the single digits. Aye, he is almost cool...on the surface...he is almost, but then really not at all. Factually...he is a monumentally overwrought douche bag. I deal with this type of douche bag far too often and am therefore teeming with ecstasy and an eagerness to tackle his skinny frame and ego with zeal. I am going to enjoy slicing and dicing this dude into bite-sized chunks of greasy, ear-plugged, criss-cut coiffed, over-tattooed nuggets that I shall dip in sweet 'n sour sauce and devour with gusto.
Additionally, it is soooooooo wonderful to be employed steadily once again. I pray to the Gods of pen, ink, and verbage that they keep my qwerty from getting dusty and dirty. I am in a spot where I am hungry for vengeance against a planet of fucks that have too often turned my stomach and aggravated my core.
Beware, douche bags, I am your nightmare. My wrath shall be laid down upon you like 10,000 claws.
