douchebag: (n) an individual with an over inflated sense of self worth, often combined with a low level of intelligence, typically behaves in a ridiculous manner with no sense of how moronic he appears
Well, as they say... if you don't have anything nice to say about someone, don't say anything at all... (just remember it and blog about it later!) Well, in that spirit... here is one of what is sure to be many instance of what I like to call "General Acts of Douche-baggery." I believe the title is fairly self explanatory, but can be described as any action on the part of an individual that, upon being witnessed by yours truly, caused me to either:
(a) experience an overwhelming desire to punch the perpetrator square in the nose
(b) lose a significant amount of faith in humanity in general
(c) laugh hysterically while at the same time wondering "wtf?!!"
(d) all of the above
Well, where to start...
1) D-bag #1 is an incredibly important man. So important in fact that he must be instantly reachable via cell phone 24 hours a day. No time can be wasted reaching into a pocket to retrieve a cell phone, of course, so a bluetooth headset must be worn at all times... even in a dark, crowded theater where dozens of other non-d-baggy people are simply trying to enjoy a movie. So while trying to follow the sinister exploits of the Joker in the latest Batman flick, I find myself constantly distracted by a bright blue light blinking every 2 seconds. Not to exaggerate, but I'm convinced this constant, repetitive blinking emotes the same feelings as chinese water torture. This jerk should just be thankful that the movie wasn't Lord of the Rings or some other lengthy epic, or I'm sure someone would've gotten so fed up that the blinking light (and the costly piece of electronic equipment attached to it) would've ended up
smashed to smithereens on the dried-soda and popcorn crumb covered theater floor.
2) D-bag #2 is the type of person who you kinda hate instantly... but also feel kinda sorry for at the same time. While waiting to get picked up at the airport a while back, I see this middle-aged gentleman pull up to the curb in his bright red convertible. As he pulls up in front of me, he suddenly realizes "Egad! My techno music is not blaring nearly loud enough to be heard by approaching aircraft!" So with a deft flick of his leather-driving-gloved finger he proceeds to blast Um-chuh Um-chuch Um-chuch (beeeeeooooooo) Um-chuch Um-chuh... at eardrum obliterating levels. Apparently satisfied that he has made his obnixious presence known, he then proceeds to peel out of the area... of the airport pick-up area... an area that is inherently busy and filled with both cars and pedestrians!! Luckily nobody gets hurt. Still, I desperately wanted to hold up a mirror to this guy and say "Seriously, dude? Seriously?"
Well, that's about all the energy I care to spend talking about d-bags in one night. More to come later, I'm sure.
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