Everyone who’s taken a humanities class knows That Douche. He’s the budding Rousseau in the front row who raises his hand in lecture to spout delightfully insipid pseudo-intellectual drivel. He’s so vociferous with his impromptu philosophizing that we all recognize him in class, but what does That Douche do with the REST of his life??
That Douche at a Sorority Invitational
Douche: Excuse me, but the way you’re shaking your posterior to Lil’ Jon is reminiscent of the disjointed, yet beautifully freeflowing style of James Joyce’s prose.
Girl: What!?!
Douche: I mean only to suggest that, like Locke’s Treatise on the Rights of Man, your ass could stand unmarred by centuries of criticism.
Girl: You’re a loser.
Douche: I have cocaine…
[they leave together]
On the Set of a Porno Film
Director: So what do you say?
Douche: Well, this reinforces many traditional gender roles, and it must also be noted that Mr. Hungwell’s portrayal of the cable repairman was sub-convincing at best. It’s reminiscent of Hegel’s theory of the super man to suggest, even symbolically, as you did, that it is the protagonist’s right and obligation to blow his load on the faces of all other actors.
Director: [Handing Douche a role of paper towels] Listen asshole, I didn’t hire you for your sociology degree. Go de-jizz Leshonda.
At the Doctor
Douche: Doc, I have a dull pain in my knee that lingers subtly, yet undeniably, after any physical activity, not unlike the way Martin Van Buren’s economic policy lingered in its ramifications long after the 1840s.
Doctor: I’ll prescribe you some Vicodin.
Douche: But will this solve the problem? I mean, there are systemic issues here that won’t be solved; drastic overhaul is necessary in a broader sense.
Doctor: Dude, I’m not a real doctor, and the script says you should be sucking my dick by now.
At Macy’s
Douche: Excuse me, sir, I’m looking for something in a stupid hat.
During a Bank Robbery
Robber: This is a robbery! Everyone put your fucking hands up or I’ll blow your fucking heads off! Now! NOW!
TD: Excuse me, my hand is already up. In fact it’s been up for quite some time.
Robber: Wait, what?
TD: [cough] Ehem [That Douche shakes his upraised hand]
Robber: Yes?
TD: It’s clear from the black and red coloring of your mask that you represent the fall of the Latino as America’s minority of choice, heralding in a new psycho-imperialist adoption of the continental Asian as the idealized working minority in the eyes of bourgeoisie neo-fascist America. Furthermore–
[Robber shoots That Douche 7 times in the face. He still manages to show up to every linguistics class for the next week.]
