Don't be these guys. Seriously.

Please God, don't let history repeat itself. Learn from these 80's douchebags.

1980's Video Dating Montage

Rule #10

Hey Corey Hart. There's nothing "stunning" about "stunnas". Unless you're in a club with walls made out of radioactive tanning bed bulbs, you don't need to wear sunglasses indoors, let alone in a dimly lit lounge.

Rule #9

If you have to Google your own tattoo to find out what it means, then you shouldn't be permanently marking it onto your body. For the record, regardless what the chinese symbol or sanskrit is supposed to say, it actually reads douchebag…loud and clear.

Rule #8

Don't wear Ed Hardy aka the King of Doucheland. Cartoon tiger t-shirts are only cute if you're 3 years old. Equally nauseating is Affliction…unless you're afflicted with douche. You look like you were molested by a Bedazzler.

Rule #7

Don't do Jager Bombs. Nothing screams douchebag louder than a grown man drinking a shot of the worlds worst liquor gift wrapped in a glass of the worlds worst chaser.

Don't be this guy. Seriously.

Rule #6

Bathe. Although this rule should go without saying, trust me when I say...it can't. In addition, douching yourself with enough cologne to give me an ocular migraine is completely unnecessary.

Vocabulary Lesson #1:

Main Entry: doucheapocalypse
Pronunciation: \ˈdüsh\ə-ˈpä-kə-ˌlips\
Function: noun

1 a: a high-traffic area in which douchebags have gathered in a common place to strategically infiltrate an enclosed space with the intent to seek acceptance from each other; creating an environment where females have no clear path of escape. In a doucheapocoplypse climate, a female is literally asphyxiated by 'pathetic'. Chance of survival is tragically non-existent.

1 b: See “San Francisco Marina District”, “Jersey Shore”, “South Beach Miami”, “Upper Eastside, NY” or “Aspen, Colorado”.

Rule #5

Your father's house in the Hamptons...is not your house in the Hamptons. Being the son of a successful, distinguished man, doesn't make you successful or distinguished. It makes you a spoiled, obnoxious douche.

Feeding Frenzy: Barracuda vs. Super Douche

While out at a local bar, I encountered what I can only describe as a "Pick Up Artist" pseudo-protégé. I avoid eye contact, sip my pint and cease any body language that could be construed as “inviting”. It doesn’t work. Moments later, this sad, little grub of a man approached me with overly-inflated confidence and his ego tucked in his back pocket. Unfortunately for him, I was feeling particularly short of patience.

He was wearing a tight, paper thin vintage t-shirt (a boy's size 4T, I'm guessing) and his highlighted hair was carefully spiked with $30 gel. His statuesque 5'7", overly tan build stood proudly in $200 jeans and he sidled himself up next to my bar stool.

Initiate eyeroll reflex…game on.

"Hey, I need a female's opinion on something."

I nearly snorted beer through my nose…then immediately looked for hidden cameras and that lanky asshat in a fur fedora who calls himself 'Mystery.'

"Of course you do. What ever for?" (blatant sarcasm went undetected by Super Douche)

"Who lies more – girls or guys?"

Are you fucking serious…

My initial response…(blink) "Really?"

"Ya, seriously. Who do you think lies more?"

(Insert strategic pregnant pause.)

"I don't think the propensity to lie is gender specific."

His turn. (blink) Confusion sets it. "Uh…ok. Well that's a safe answer."

"Really? How so? I thought it was a perfectly legitimate answer to a completely vague question."

"So you don't have an opinion?"

"I just gave you one."

"That's not REALLY an opinion."

"Interesting. What would constitute a real opinion? In your opinion of course."

"Well, for instance I think guys are better liars than girls."

"That wasn't your question."

"Huh?"

"That's not what you asked. You asked who lied more, not who was more talented at it."

(blink) "You're mean."

"Riiight. Of course I am." (eyeroll commencing)

"Anyways, how you ladies doin’ tonight? Having fun?"

"Oh...I am now."

Rule #4

Learn to cook something. Its called a stove and a pot and it's not rocket science. Tater tots, hot pockets, pizza and Chinese food are not food groups...in spite of popular opinion amongst your douchebag friends.

Rule #3

Stop telling us you're going to the gym, or that you're planning on going to the gym, or you just came back from the gym…or that you effing love the gym. Evident by your toned body or lackthereof - we get it.

Rule #2

Social networking is not your life. Twittering every mundane daily activity is narcissistic and douchey. We couldn’t care less if you're taking a crap, walking your dog, working out, getting in the shower, or jacking off. Stop it.

Rule #1

Your hat doesn't have to match your shirt, doesn't have to match your pants, doesn't have to match your socks, doesn’t have to match your shoes. You get the picture. Keep it simple and change it up. Don't be a monochromatic douchebag.

And so it begins...

How did this survival guide come to be? Pure, unadulterated irritation.

Someone recently told me that I must be doing something to "attract" these Douchebags to obtain so much material. But the truth is, that is an inaccurate albeit a seemingly obvious assumption. I'm a single female, 32 years old, and a classic observationist. Articulating my thoughts into print has always been a passion of mine. Unfortunately for some, I make my nest and live in a world of thick, unfiltered, indiscriminating sarcasm. It's cozy here. We serve cookies.

Some people can handle it, some people don't get it - but those are not the people I write for. My average reader has above average intelligence with thick skin and a sizeable sense of humor - and those are the people I like to rock with. Everyone else can pretty much go f*ck themselves. But I digress.

I hope you see this blog for what it is and enjoy the hell out of it. If not, I suppose you can ignore and block - gotta love Facebook and its ability to passively hate, object and avoid people on the internet.

As I close this brief note, I'm reminded of one of my favorite quotations.

"If I have to explain it, is it still considered sarcasm?"

Rock out with your cock out! (aka Rule violation #42)
Jenn