If you’re in the Chicago area and you feel like you’ve had a shortage of douche in your life lately than the Ferrari Guy is here to help. For a mere $300 he’ll drive you around town in his kick ass Ferrari and wow you with all of his amazing douche-iness. I’m sure for a modest additional fee he’d be willing to remove his shirt and possibly bust out a sweet riff on his axe.
If the kick ass display of awesomeness above isn’t enough to convince you that the Ferrari Guy is just the douche you’re looking for than click the “Read More” link for a photo that should seal the deal.
On Friday, we had a girl making the same pose in every picture. Now, we’ve found her brother, who is stuck in an even more unfortunate I-can’t-look-directly-at-the-camera pose. This is definitely a sign of some sort of birth defect shared by the Douchebag Siblings.
Every picture, same puckered lips face…terrible. Also, worse is the fact that she wears a Tony Romo jersey. We’ve all enjoyed the pictures on HotChicksWithDouchebags, unfortunately, in this case, the douchebag is the hot chick. So, it’s like Hot Chick Douchebag With Douchebags.
Hey, Brian Austin Green you total douchebag, why don’t you share your umbrella with the only thing in this world keeping you relevant. Ok, ok, I feel better now. This has been haunting me for a week.
This is at a minimum at least three bad ideas all rolled into one. You’ve got a Star Wars, Legos and the phrase “Thug$ For Life”. I don’t even get it. Does Hans Solo get the “thug” title because he was an intergalactic smuggler?
Look at that smug son-of-a-bitch. This is the exact face I picture every time I’m playing Halo 3 and some prick that sounds like he’s about 13 starts spouting off f-bombs every third word.
Anyway this douche-rocket attack his Mom with a taco after she unplugged his Xbox. He had refused to come down for dinner so Mom took matters into her own hands by marching into his room and unplugging the machine. This little asshole cursed at her and then went downstairs ten minutes later and threw one of the tacos she had just made for dinner in her face.
If I was the cop that took that picture I would have “accidently” tripped and used my elbow against his face to break my “accidental” fall.
Nothing like starting 2009 off strong with an outstanding douche bag of the week. If this guy is such a die hard fan why would he commemorate the worst moment in the team’s history with a tattoo? He should have felt like he received 1,000 stomach punches once the 0 – 16 record became a reality. Why would he want to relive that pain every time he looks in the mirror?
Yeah, this is a good idea. Although, I will give them credit for at least having the sense to put the alcohol in the backseat. From the looks of these guys though, it’s hard to tell who (if anyone) in this group would have the brains to think up this brilliant idea.
Here’s the scenario: My friend is having a house-warming party, a keg is provided, but like a good friend and knowing my friends, it is also recommended to bring alcohol. This alcohol serves two purposes - first, to avoid a beer-run after the keg gets tapped, and secondly, excess beer for when you come over in the next couple of weeks to watch football/baseball playoffs. Customarily, I bring my case of Miller Lite.
The party is going well, flip cup, beer pong, general drunken debauchery, which means the keg is slowly reaching its end. I start to see Miller Lite in people’s hands. By the time I get to the fridge, my stash is gone and what’s left… Hamm’s! Fuck Hamm’s and fuck the horse it rode in on (read: the son of a bitch who brought Hamm’s). There are two types of people who bring Hamm’s to a party: A cheap bastard and someone who hates everyone else at the party. You can usually tell who this person is upon entry, as their case of beer is likely concealed by a paper bag or a desperate attempt to cause a distraction. Example: “I think I just saw your neighbor walking around naked in her front lawn! (Sneaks case of shit-beer into fridge) Or she could have just been wear a flesh-toned night shirt, it’s really dark outside.”
As I look around the party, squeezing my can of Hamm’s with disgust, I try to find the most likely Hamm’s purchaser. There are many reasons why Hamm’s sucks, here are just some:
It’s not purchased with great frequency. Therefore the can I am drinking was probably brewed before I was born.
The can screams cheap. Now that I’m stuck drinking this shit, I look more like a tool. I must immediately find a cup.
It’s not Miller Lite.
The after-taste is what I imagine a rusty nail would taste like.
Seriously, no matter how poor you are, you should be smart enough not to make poor decisions when it comes to beer. Pony up an extra couple bucks for anything else, trust me, because if I come to a party and you bring Hamm’s, you’ll never hear the end of it!
If you actually watched this David Blaine special last night I feel sorry for you. And if you’re one of these fucking idiots in the crowd at Central Park, I hope you were getting paid a shitload to be there. This whole hanging upside down, then jumping and then mysteriously disappearing into the night charade is a bunch of bullshit.
