Category: Douchebag of the Weak
March 25th, 2008
I obviously don't post here much anymore, so I was quite surprised while weeding through my hundreds of attempted spam comments to see a few genuine comments. And what wonderful comments they are... Let's read on!
My post about 59 Fifty stickers has been very popular.
Reader Dru writes: your a jackass.
Well, go fuck yourself Dru. YOU'RE a jackass. And your name is spelled Drew.
Reader Dave writes: lol. i leave the sticker on just because it pisses people like you off. Why should you care whats on a complete strangers head?
"lol"? What the fuck Dave, are you a 15 year old girl? And why should I care? Because i'm [un]necessarily angry, fuckface, that's why. Because I have to get on the subway and see these baseball hats that are being misused. Did you know that the idea behind the hat is to keep the sun out of your eyes? You probably didn't, you fucking worthless fuck. Ok, actually, you don't deserve that - Dru is way more worthless than you are.
Reader New Era writes: Your a fucking idiot. The reason the tags are left on, is so the hat can be proven authentic. With there being many cheap knock offs out there, your sticker is your way of proving authenticity. The new era hats can be QUITE expensive, so you would want people to know. Its like asking people why they want Louis Vuitton written all over there belts!
Again with the "your". General comment: DON'T READ MY FUCKING SITE IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN "YOU ARE" and "YOUR". Thanks. And, "New Era", guess what, Louis Vuitton shit with the logo all over it is fucking stupid looking too. But that's not what my post was about. It's a fucking BASEBALL hat. Trying to show the world that you're money by leaving a sticker on your hat is just fucking stupid. I can think of many, many better ways to spend my cash than to try to get someone (anyone) impressed with me because my fucking hat is 59 Fifty instead of just hat.
Aj writes: Oh wow. 59 fifty's are to be styling !
Cool, thanks for stopping by Aj. The hats are fine. Some of them are nice. But the stickers...stupid.
Finally, on my post about the lack of lunch options by where i work, I got this lovely comment from Rich: You need to move. I have about 20 restaurants within 2 blocks of my office and the only reason I have trouble with lunch is that they are all SO GOOD, I have a hard time making up my mind. Italian, French, Hawaiian, Chinese, Greek, Lebonese, Persian, Japanese, Mexican, seafood, deli, Vietnamese, Korean, what don't we have? Sometimes I decide to go farther, because there are about 20 more restaurants available within 4 blocks. Oh, I by the way, I don't drive, I don't take the train or bus, I WALK to work because I live a half a block from my office. It sucks to be you. Also, I never start a sentence with "I have to..." because I don't HAVE to do shit. I have choices. Oh, God, I love my life.
Hi Rich, you are a fucking douchebag. Please to be commencing with fucking yourself. Thanks. Seriously, who gloats like that? Congratulations Rich, you're my Douchebag of the Weak
October 2nd, 2007
It's story time!!! Let's begin:
You are one of the people who bought an iPhone when they were first released. You love your new gadget and show it off to all of your friends, gloating in their stupid, non-iPhone-owning faces about how much cooler your phone is than their phone. You parade around New York using your iPhone at every opportunity in hopes of getting noticed.
Then, your world changes, it darkens. Two months after its release, Apple drops the iPhone prices $200 dollars for the 8 gig model, and removes the 4 gig model from shelves. "That's fucked," you scream! How dare they lower the prices so soon. Now every Tom, Dick, and Harriet can get an iPhone and they'll pay less than I did.
But Apple feels sorry for you, and so they offer to make amends. If you purchased your iPhone within 14 days of the price change, you get credited the difference, if not, you get a $100 Apple store credit. You are still dismayed. Even though Apple has given you money for no reason, that is not enough for you.
So you decide to sue Apple for $1 million dollars, which is a totally reasonable number considering how they have harmed you...
And let's pause there, shall we? Let's just take a quick re-read of the above and try to figure out where things went south... Dongmei Li, of Queens, New York, filed a $1 million dollar lawsuit against Apple because they lowered the price on something she had bought at a higher price? Dongmei Li, congratulations - you are a fucking douchebag, and my featured Douchebag of the Weak. You're not just a douchebag, though, you're also a jackass and several other fairly close synonyms. What the fuck is wrong with you? You paid the price that Apple set for their product and had no complaints when it was released. If they lower their prices, that fucking sucks for you. You paid to be one of the first to have an iPhone; and now you'll get to pay out the ass for a lawyer on a losing lawsuit. And Apple even already gave you $100 dollars of its money for no reason whatsoever. But that's not enough for you? I hope Apple crushes you, you fucking parasite.
July 2nd, 2007
Every Thursday night I drink at the same bar. The bar plays the same songs, serves me the same cheap beer and shots, and generally raises my mood no matter how I am feeling.
But as is often the case with places that you consider your own personal haven, these wonderful times don't always last. And so my Thursday night dive bar is slowly and surely becoming more and more crowded every week with douchebags: frat boys, i-bankers, hipsters, et. al.
So this past Thursday I'm sitting at the bar waiting for some friends (who, as it turned out, never showed up. Fuckers), but I'm sitting at the bar, drinking my beer, and these frat boys surround my general location because there was space on either side of me on the bar.
I'm mildly claustrophobic, but more than that I just don't really like people that much. In particular, I don't like fucking idiots who continually slam in to me. And this frat pack was doing just that. And, more importantly, they were deliberately doing it to try to get me to move so that they could have more space.
Interestingly, I respect that. I have no problem with making someone uncomfortable to try to get more space for yourself. I mean, yes, I was there first by a lot, so it's poorly played, but still, read my Subway Etiquette Lessons and you'll see similar things to that.
Now, and here's the thing, not only were these guys twatwaffles extraordinaire, but they also came in to a bar in New York City wearing St. Louis Cardinals jersies. Thankfully, there was no particular animosity against the Cards that night because the Mets/Cards game had been rained out. There was, however, lots and lots of general animosity because I love the mother fuckin Amazin's and last fall is not far enough away to be forgotten.
So, they tried to move me, and I did not budge. And unfortunately for them, and as it turns out, for me, I was not going to move under any circumstance. So, they eventually stopped trying to pummel me and got to the drinking.
And now, finally, we get to this week's Douchebag of the Weak. There are 4 of these jackasses, and they order shots of Jim Beam. One of them, this week's distinguished recipient, pussies out on the Beam and asks for Cuervo instead. He's wearing his grey Cardinals jersey and generally sucking at life directly behind me, while one of his friends is to my left hitting on this chick and his other two friends are to my right, one behind me, and one next to me. So, they pass this fucker his Cuervo and what does he promptly do while his friends are readying their Beams? He spills most of it on my back.
And, that, in and of itself, is not so bad. What was bad was that he then made no attempt or effort to apologize. Not even a pretense of being sorry about it. His friend to my left also took my Beam shot that I had been waiting on, and his friend to my right, seeing an extra shot of the ones he bought offers me my own Beam shot as an apology. And that's fucked.
And I said to him, "I don't need another shot, I'm already wearing one. Thanks though."
And he says back to me, "You don't have to be a dick about it, man." As if it was possible for me to be a dick about getting a shot of tequila spilled on MY FUCKING BACK.
Oh, but the dude to my left did then buy my next $2 beer on him and apologized for his friends. Also, he wasn't wearing a St. Louis jersey. So he was ok.
June 15th, 2007
I'm trying to save transit stories for the weekly Subway Etiquette Lessons, but since this all transpired on a bus, it gets its own special posting.
This week, I am giving an award, Douchebag of the Weak, to a man who rode the M96 with me yesterday for unbelievable accomplishments in progressing the art of Douchebaggery. This man was so out of line in his actions, that I did what I find to be unbearable when other do it, and actually called him out on it, in front of everyone on the bus.
Here's the play-by-play.
I got on the bus at Madison Avenue and 96th street. It was one of those hybrid buses that frequent the M96 line. So, I tiptoe my way back to right next to the divider by the back door where I find a decent spot, not TOO crowded, but certainly not empty. As the bus gets to 5th avenue, a slew of people get on. A young blond woman, probably around 20, comes to a stop 2 standing people in front of me, and the bus is starting to really fill up. A few people later and the bus is relatively full, and that's when Senor Douchebag starts his light-footed dance towards the back of the bus. And by "light-footed dance" I mean "bull rush." The guy starts saying excuse me to a man who is to the left of the girl. Together (the guy and blond girl) were more-or-less blocking the entire aisle. But, that shouldn't have mattered, because there was nowhere to stand behind them. Nonetheless, Douchey McGhee says excuse me to this guy several times. The young blond woman, unfortunately for her, has her back to all of this and is facing the window, fairly oblivious to what's going on behind her.
Finally, the Douche decides that he has said "excuse me" just about enough, and pushes his way past this guy. And in the process slams his shoulder in to the blond woman, sending her flying almost in to the window, and certainly on top of the person seated next to where she was standing. Douchey then parks himself right in the middle of 4 people who were standing fairly close together, forcing all of them to lean out over people who are seated. On my side of the aisle were two younger guys who were completely appalled about what had just happened. As was I.
And the guy just parks himself there and stands there. And, though I was loathe to do so, no one was going to say anything to this douchebag, and so I was forced to. I took off my headphones, tapped this fucker on the shoulder, and said "Excuse me, are you going to apologize to the girl you just knocked over?"
The guy looked shocked that I was talking to him, and said, "Excuse me? What was that?"
I repeated, "Are you going to apologize to the blond girl over there who you just knocked over?"
And he gets indignant. Now, in similar situations, one might also get indignant, because it is never nice to be told how you're supposed to act by an impartial observer. But, in this case, the guy was so clearly in the wrong, that the indignant act did nothing to curb my verbal assault. He says back to me "Oh, I didn't see her. I'm disabled and that guy wasn't moving out of the way."
Another young woman, who had been chatting with her friend who was standing above and slightly behind her while she was in the seat across the aisle from me, pipes up and says "Oh, would you like my seat?"
Douchey replies "No, no, that's ok."
And I say, "So, you're not going to apologize for knocking her over?"
And he says, "Well, I didn't see her and I was just trying to get by. I don't know what you want from me." Then he mutters "I'm sorry"...TO ME. And that's fucked.
And now, I am stuck with the eternal debate. On the one hand, I want this fuckface to apologize to this girl he knocked over. On the other hand, I do not want to talk to or look at him anymore, because he's a fucking asshole. I decide that though I don't think he has sufficiently made amends, I would rather not deal with him anymore, and I put my headphones back in.
He gets off at the next stop off the back of the bus at Central Park West, and makes a big show of trying to look disabled while getting off the bus. In reality, it just looked like he was trying to fake an injury to cover for his being a douchebag, because he looked like he was walking more-or-less normally. The young blond woman got off the front of the bus, and at no point made any attempt to thank me for intervening. Which is kinda dick, but whatever, I don't fault you for not wanting to deal with it.
Now, maybe it doesn't seem that bad, what happened. And if that's the case, I haven't accurately captured just how hard this douche slammed his shoulder in to the girl. To give you some idea, the 2 guys in front of me, and the 2 girls chatting, one seated, one standing, across the aisle from me all said "That guy was an ass. You were totally right to say something."
And if you can get 4 new yorkers to agree, then that's fucked.