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"Douche" jumps the shark

August 27, 2009 Leave a comment


If this isn’t the death knell of the term “douche” in today’s slang/alternaTeen “Let’s all show how edgy we are by using the sameLemingEdgy term” parlance, I don’t know what is:

“America’s 25 Douchiest Colleges”

First, let’s be 100% clear on the definition of “douche.”

“Douchey,” “d-bag,” “douché,” or any variations thereof can be defined as (according to the Online Slang Dictionary):
noun

  1. a derogatory term, used most often to describe males; JERK, ASS-HOLE.
  2. a person who intentionally acts like a jerk to appear cool or to show off.
  3. an excessively self-obsessed person, usually male.

Before I go on, I want to point out that GQ *did* get three of their top-five correct; Duke, Harvard, and Princeton. Students at and the general ethos of these universities are the embodiment of the term, self-important twits who focus way too much on the things that don’t matter (certain “lifestyle” brands, hegemony, affectedly trendy pop-culture ennui, and insider arcana that only serves to help the supremely insecure overcompensate).

But, also according to GQ, all the following institutions are “douchey” in their own unique way.

  • Vassar
  • Morehouse
  • NYU
  • Phoenix University
  • Charter College, Wasilla
  • Bob Jones

And this is the problem.

Help me understand how ANY of these institutions are douchey …

  • Vassar – bunch of lesbians, right? Not douchey. Well, douchey, yes, but in a grizzled catfish-sandwich sorta way.
  • Morehouse – Blacks. Never douchey. Ever. Unless, well, they’re Bill Cosby and his ilk (post ’85, cause the Cosby Kids are the anti-thesis of Douche). And the Cos is Temple stock. Okay, Howard can trend douchey too, at times. Well, and other buppies. Okay, strike Morehouse, it is pretty efFin’ douchey.
  • NYU – Spike Lee. Allen Ginsberg. Morgan Spurlock. Need I go on?
  • Phoenix University – an online university!?!?!?? Come on. If someone makes head fry cook at Chili’s out of this piece it’ll be a reason to embrace unchecked frottage.
  • Charter College, Wasilla – a geographical impossibility for anyone here to ever, ever get a leg up in life, much less yield privilege, authority, and/or power in any MadDoucheDriven grab for power … saving That Whose Name Should Not Be Spoken, but one alum does not a trend make.
  • Bob Jones – Jesus Freakz and bible-thumping pew-jumping Christians are NEVER douchey, just a bit misled.

Okay GQ, I get what you’re doing. Headline grabbers are easy pickins and God knows the slack-jawed masses won’t take 10 seconds (the quick jab of the print punchline) to think beyond the pale.

But did we really need to further the douche system?

Hasn’t it all gone far enough?

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Categories: Daily Mind Drippings

Passive Aggressive Landlord Poetry

August 18, 2009 1 comment

One of my friends (Gillian) is in a unique living situation, she’s sharing a Mt. Pleasant house with a 20something from Mexico (on rotation at Georgetown) and this batty older couple who consider themselves “artistic.” And by “artistic,” I mean disgustingly filthy and disorganized–which leads to rats, a turgid kitchen and living space, mis-communication about rent and chores, stress, and low-key madness in general.

Oh yeah, the landlord’s wife is somewhat demented. Like, when Adriana (Mexican chick) tries to pay her, the woman has a had time putting together who Adriana “is” exactly and why this strange girl is trying to give her money.

It’s caused some issues.

How does the landlord/budding poetMan address these issues?

With this, a rambling PoMo freeform poem even TS Eliot would envy:

“untitled”
my friend Gillian’s batty landlord
————————————————————-

its been so long since we have had adults
i forget the possibilities.
But, Adriana really must talk to Sea to earn her key.
We do get rats here
from time to time.
…………………………………………………………..I wont worry you with the details, eh?
Once, with his tabalist son..
we had a famous Indian sitarist with one,
through a long night’s consert rehersal.
Raga Raga…..
Pocita helps there,
that is her job.
Sea is a veritable trapping terrior; that’s hers.
I think she uses peanut butter in the traps and theN spitzinit.
Thats the key, you know.
Now after 40 years
immunities gathered pretty well
we have things about how we want them/can afford them, you know
It works for us.
Try to make it work for you.
KILBOURNE IS A plastic medium to mediate upon and shape.
An impulse needs be pushed down but three times to test its mettle.
If it keeps coming back, I’d say act on it.
TALK TO US AS THEE GOES,
If you have a WINNING project
PASSING AESTHETIC MUSTER
DOIN SOME GOOD
YOUR INVESTMENT WILL COME OFF YOUR SECURITY DEPOSIT ACCOUNT, i’M SURE.
In the most radical instance
regular constructive behavior could earn you a seond right of refusal to buy this joint
at family rates, you know.
Why hell if you bought shares in here
all of us could buy a nice little gettaway on the Shenandoah
with three acres for garden and goats.
You see we have an evacuation from the city scenario,
we just cant afford the health care costs.
You are lovely.

Peace.

Categories: Daily Mind Drippings

Tubing in Harpers Ferry, Connie Dee’s Diner

August 17, 2009 Leave a comment

Saturday we hit Harpers Ferry for a bit of tubing. The float itself was beautiful, we opted to do the “whitewater” option from Butts Tubes, costing $32 for a vinyl tube rental for a day (11am to 6pm) on the river. The term “whitewater” is a bit of a misnomer, the rapids are classified as levels 1 & 2 on this particular float (Potomac converging with the Shenandoah), but it was extremely tame; I would think the “flatwater” float is boring as hell.

Butt’s Tubes itself was a real logistical mess, perhaps due to the outdated technology (pen and paper) and the brain-trust running the operation. I suggest going with a big group (upwards of 10 or so), getting there early (before 11am), and consider going on a weekday; we waited over an hour because they accidentally crossed my name off the list. If my friend Gillian didn’t stay on top of them for their mistake, we could have spent the entire afternoon waiting to get on the bus that takes you down to the water.

We didn’t bring coolers as we weren’t sure exactly what “whitewater” tubing meant and I was worried that we would lose the coolers in rougher water. But if you go, I recommend packing some food, drinks, and beverages of your choice; you can go a long time between food-accessible areas. The float can be as fast as 90 minutes–if you paddle along at a good pace–or take upwards of some hours, if you pull off to sunbath, eat, drink, or make merry on any of the numerous rocks in the rivah or the sandy areas along the banks.

As to the scene itself, it was loaded with 20somethings whoopin’ it up, a heavy college contingent. Even so, there was no public nudity or ridiculously offensive behaviour, it was just a beautiful day on the water with people in high spirits.

Next time, I hope to join about a dozen folks or so and do a massive, drinking floatilla; OR a true whitewater rafting (class 3, 4, 5) rapids adventure (guide and training course required).

Hands down, the highlight of the trip was our visit to Connie Dee’s Diner following the float. Connie Dee’s is the most authentic eatery I’ve visited in some years. So authentic, in fact, that I can’t find a SINGLE net reference to link to; unfortunately, I can’t remember the exact location, but it’s about a quarter of a mile off route 340 and it’s visible on the drive in.

I’m bummed I didn’t get more pics/footage of the exterior, but you know the kind of place; a bit hardscrabble, just off-the-beaten-path, burnt coffee and fried food caress you when you walk in the door. The thing that really struck me about the place–outside of the amazing blue plate specials and authentic soda fountain–was how QUIET it was. No one in there was yapping on a cell phone, clicking away on a laptop, or playing a PS2. There wasn’t a “background” TV or radio filling the dead space, rather, it was just everyday folks having everyday conversations.

It’s a bit hard to tell from the video, but the jukebox had handwritten song titles; we popped for Danny Boy as sung by Conway Twitty and a Connie Francis song (two plays for a quarter); these played in our booth alone (so as not to bother the other patrons).

I got the 2-piece fried chicken (“The best in four states!”), potato salad, cole slaw, cherry pie and a cuppa joe for about $10.

God Bless America.

Categories: Daily Mind Drippings