If by "Endorses" you mean "Piles onto the eventual demise of"...

Then sure, what Dick Cheney did to John McCain was an endorsement. I mean, after all, endorse means "to approve, support, or sustain: to endorse a political candidate." yeah, that's what Dick Cheney did.

If we recall correctly, Congress' approval rating is below child molesters, right above Osama Bin Laden's, and that puts Dick Cheney's approval rating... right smack dab in the middle of "Please God, please oh please don't let him endorse me".

Maybe this was just Dick Cheney's backhanded way of endorsing Obama? Everyone else ever ever did anyway, so jump on board too, Dick.

McCain might as well say, "I need an endorsement from Dick Cheney like I need a shotgun shell to the face". Just sayin'.

Live Blogging- Obamadomination

So, we at Douche in DC decided to do a bit of blogging tonight, considering there is nothing on tv. Not even baseball. Baseball is ALWAYS on, whether you like it or not. Not to be completely partisan, but MAN, this is an unprecedented way of douching up a Hump Day. Some of us want to escape this election, how about that? We'll vote for the first person to leave us the hell alone!

Oh well, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade, so regardless of how we feel about candidates, they are both worthy of mockery. If you suck up all the tv time, you're just asking for it. So here we go, first ever liveblog, for as long as we can stand to sip on the Kool-Aid.


- First impressions count, Barack, and my first impression is that I don't feel too bad for the soccer mom pumping gas into her SUV. That car is HUGE. I picture her saying "But Barack, how do I get my kids to the Baby Gap? Save us!"

- You also can't open with "Everything we have done for as long as we remember has sucked some major ass..." and then follow up with one of your good ideas and say "Just like after 9/11!" That's right, that sunny side of our nation's history.


- "Barack Obama has Kansas roots".... no, Governor Sebelius, knowing you doesn't count.

- WOAH, just had a heart attack. He said "We'll go through the national budget, line-by-line" and I gasped thinking "TONIGHT?!" Woah, nope. Just a half an hour, right? Phew. Almost half way. We want more montages of children with flags & waving wheat.

- Tim Kaine, are you checking us out?

- PS, is this a "Bum you out" contest? Everyone is retired/ ripped off/ widowed/ HAS TO WORK AT WAL-MART!? We're so sad we almost want Tim Kaine to check us out.

- waait, this sit down and talk about school part is a re-run. boo. Totally used in an ad "Buster".

- Plus side... Joe Biden's plugs are lookin' good today.

- Biden has never forgotten where he came from... a swing state!!!!! Wink wink, nudge nudge, Jim Halpert and everyone else who votes in Scranton.

- That guy should get takes breaks. When he was a baby, he got tied to a ford. Also, is that Ford employees phone banking for freedom?

- "We've seen harder times before". My, Mr. President, that's what she said!

- Why does he want to rebuild the military? Isn't it on steroids already? Isn't that the one thing we have going?

- "Dear old lady in Iowa, sorry about your son being in the Army. Let's hug it out bitch".

- Still just a half hour, right? Just had to check.

- Barack has the voice thing going for him. Although, it's not hard to beat McCain. He sounds like the Gopher from Winnie the Pooh.

- Maybe one day I will get famous through destitution. Note to self, add to list of accomplishments. Be a "Woman in DC who can't even afford to fill her SUV and drive to the baby gap"

- cue music.

- Damn it. We definitely didn't think ahead on this one. Should have played a drinking game... FAIL.

Well that definitely wasn't as painful as we anticipated. Oh well, 6 more days kids, 6 more days.

Drag Race

So tonight Douche in DC made our way to the annual Dupont Drag Race. For those of you that are unaware, DC's drag queens dress to the nines and trollop down 17th street in the highest heels you've ever seen. The streets were crowded, they were cold, and the beers were few and far between. Though these things appear to lead to a bad time, good attitudes were had by (almost) all, and fun was had. Mayor Fenty even showed up with his entourage, also dressed to the nines in dark green "Fenty" hats.




However, we have a bit of a bone to pick with certain douches in DC... The bike-riding ones.

Now, we love bikes. Short bikes, tall bikes, tandem bikes, what's not to love? They're green, you won't have to sell an ovary for gas money, and you can avoid the soul-sucking wait for the red line when trains share tracks because everything imaginable has gone wrong. The problem isn't with bikes, it's when you decide to ride them.

You know what? We love bikes so much we attended a leg of the Tour de France last year. Know what we didn't love about it? The superfluous bikes. We get it, we ALL like bikes, but we don't need to bring them to the Tour de France, unless we're Lance Armstrong. At the Tour de France, in the middle of a bustling city, with tons of spectators from all over the world, douchy locals felt it necessary to bring their bikes to the city. Some even dressed AS bikers. We all know what that means... spandex. Gross. Do you bring your favorite electric guitar to a Rolling Stones show? Of course not, so don't bring your damned bike to the Tour de France. Anyway, we digress. Even at a bike-based event, don't bring your stupid bike.


Much like the Tour de France, the Dupont Drag Race was filled with people of questionable (or at the least curious) sexual preferences, and also the overbearing truth that YOU SHOULDN'T BRING A BIKE. Why? We stood in crowds of people, wondering if the European convention that encourages publicly consuming alcohol applied here, being squished so closely to strangers that we wondered if we accidentally had what Craig's list refers to as a "Casual Encounter", and what do we find in our way? A bike. Some clown brings a bike, stands it by him, and it cock-blocks everyone's good time. Fortunately, we get distracted by a few pushy drunk girls and once the bike & sass are overlooked, and we watch the many Sarah Palins/ Texas Polygamists scuttle down the street.

Finally, we re-group, sober up, and head for some available transportation, and as we gather by a large tree, what could be in our way? A bike. Laying on the ground, right where we want to walk, an effing bike. So we waited for a time to squeeze a shot through the dense crowd, and took a photo of the douchebaggery, giving it a piece of our minds in the mean time.




In summation, I think we can all agree, leave the bikes at home, and you will be one less Douche in DC.

Happy drag race to all...

If You Dress a Dog Like This...

Need we say it?

Halloween Early

Caught wearing this? Congratulations, you're a douche.

Media Whores

Although we at Douche in DC generally like to avoid over-politicizing things, this week it was just too much. With the rampant amount of insane people grabbing for media attention, we have to talk about how douchy it is to be pretend to get carved in the face girl.

There are several things wrong with this entire scenario. First of all, get your story straight. Seems easy enough. I mean how many bank heist movies have you seen? You always have to pick a story and stick with it. Also, if you're going to carve your effing face and pretend you were attacked, let's go ahead and take the mirror into account and NOT CARVE IT BACKWARDS. Face carving 101. Finally, and perhaps the most douchy of all the continuously emerging details... the girl TWITTERED as it happened. TWITTERED, PEOPLE.

Admittedly, we don't particularly know what a Twitter is, nor do we care to learn, but we do gather that it's a douchy way of telling people what you're doing at all times, whether they care to know or not. Sadly, the rush of attention paid to twitterers (twitterees?) was not enough for ol' Ashley Todd.

Onto other things consuming the media in DC this week. Think that your boss is a douchebag?
Think again!

Oooh Tim Mahoney, will you never learn? Having an affair and paying to keep it on the hush may be old news, but being a big dick about it won't earn you any favors from the soon-to-be-former-mistresses. Among other things, Mahoney was accused of...

"a) Calling Allen late in the evenings and demanding "phone sex;"

b) Demanding that Allen answer his calls or face termination;

c) Demanding that Allen attend fundraisers and "tease c-ck" to bring in more donations from the male members of the public;

d) Demanding that Allen engage in sexual conduct with another woman for his enjoyment."

Maybe our bosses likes things a certain way, but at the end of the day, none of us has had to act as a cock-tease for donations. As if political money wasn't dirty enough.

However, we're sure ol' Tim Mahoney has one thing in common with a certain special lady across the aisle...

We're willing to bet that Tom Mahoney and Michele Bachmann are both grateful that someone (aka Ashley Todd) came out and stole the media spotlight from them.

We're also willing to bet that there will be more October surprises filled to the brim with douchebaggery. So until next time...

Run- In with Team "The Todd"

Here at DiDC we love nothing more than hearing the awfully horrific tales of your own encounters with douchebaggery all around the Dc metro area. We had the following story submitted to us via dcdouchesightings@gmail.com ... (and we inserted the snark where necessary as usual).

My friends and I were out in Old Town for what we hoped was a quiet night of a few rounds with friends. Of course, some douches had to ruin all that. First, we went to Murphy's and there was a group of guys who were out for some sort of bachelor party. They all had shirts on that said "The Todd", with a clever Dumb & Dumber reference below it. Fine fine, you are grown men that dress alike, have vomit all over yourselves and will probably make out with each other if you get any closer while singing 'Piano Man'. However, of all the people they probably ran the evening's t-shirts by, what are the odds that NONE of them happened to be in school on your/you're/ you are day?!?! Well, pretty effing good. These clever guys (Team Todd), wore shirts that said "So Your Saying There's A Chance".


Oddly enough, this was not the most offensive shirt we saw in Old Town that night. Nor was it the dumbest move made. No, this was accomplished down the street, at the Rock It bar. Being first-timers to the Rock It, it wasn't exactly what we expected, but boy did it get worse. Within 5 minutes of arriving, another 'gent' arrives wearing possibly the dumbest wardrobe decision of the night.... A Tony Romo jersey.


Worst decision possible. At least when Jessica wore it, the Cowboys only lost, this guy got his face broken in. A friend of ours even commented on how dumb it was, and not five minutes later, blam, fight breaks out. It was ugly, too. For future reference, wearing a cowboys jersey in the District is about as dumb as wearing assless chaps to a Klan meeting. Don't do it, don't let your friends to it. Broken face, good times.

So We Took A Hiatus

Sue us. Not really, that would be douchy. Almost as douchy as taking a hiatus? Sure.

There has been much a-brewing in the capital city while we were gone. We'll give a brief wrap up of what's been happening (all happening without our snark no less, and for this we apologize).

During August, we went on vacation, you went on vacation, everyone went on vacation. Unfortunately for us, most clowns vacation in DC.


Douchiness of high tourist season personified in one photo of the worst the world has to offer? You're welcome.

Oh, also in August, the glory of recess was quickly punched in the gut by what DC does best: politicking. Conventions began, and with them, the blaze of glory that would lead us into the final stretch of this painstaking, neverending election... running mate announcements.

Remember it, in the glory days, the beginning of it all? Back before we heard of Joe Sixpack's hunting trip to AlaskaRussia and before Joe Biden said "When the stock market crashed, Franklin Roosevelt got on the television..." No, no, back then it was all upper-middle-class white folks dancing on Fox news.




















So now we're stuck with ol' Hair plugs and the girl from Saturday Night Live, both trying to run the country.

Blah blah blah a lot of other things happen but we were mainly drunk and trying not to get hit on out in Georgetown so we forgot about everything until the douche move of the decade occurred... Total global financial meltdown.


Even Warren Buffet





















And Boone Pickens...


















..... weren't able to save us.


Oh well, at least we all know that even though our money is worth nothing, there are still some stellar jobs out there.


So for now, we're here to bring snarky back. We do owe a big thank you to our friends at Famousdc, for giving us the kick in the ass we needed to get things going again. Because they reminded us that though we may be gallavanting around all of August recess/ post adjournment, we may finally get some sleep, but the douche does not.

It's Senator Douche To You...

For those of you who spent your weekend like most DCers, you are hopping on your yacht, skipping up the shore and donning your Sperry's up at the Cape. Oh wait, that's precisely what John Kerry did. As if he wasn't douchy enough being a grown man who is now most famous for losing the presidential election, looking like Lurch, and year-round sunless tanning, now he is partying with your college-aged sister and all of her Yacht-tastic friends.


It's a good thing Senator Kerry wore his purple checkered shirt, you're gonna want to look your best as you dock it up on the weekends and sip your Keystone Light. These young ladies also did their darndest to impress the Massachusetts Senator, take a gander at their penis straws! Their parents and Sorority presidents will be like, sooo proud.

'Til Douche Do Us Part

This was emailed to us anonymously (dcdouchesightings@gmail.com) and is an actual GChat Status of a Hill Staffer... Move quickly ladies, those Prince Charmings with urinal fetishes always get snatched up first.


Req for girls who wanna marry me:

1. Lets me have in-home urinal.

2. Wears JCrewish clothing.

3. Does not want a career.

Congrats, Cowboy....

Tourists on the Town

We all see tourists and can recognize them on the spot, whether it be because they are holding up a map, standing on the left, or wearing the obnoxious Capital tour stickers. However, sometimes they don't do themselves any favors. This douchy tourist was spotted near the US Botanical gardens, with apparently every imaginable item strapped to her belt. Also, on the other side was a water bottle.


Seriously? Fanny pack, camera, water bottle, hiking boots, cell phone in hand, map wiiiide open. I'd bet someone would have robbed her if they thought she had anything worthwhile in her fanny pack.

Speaking of female douchebaggery...

Lady Douche

We at Douche in DC truly appreciate the art of equal-opportunity offensiveness. Hence finally taking the time to discuss the douchy ladies that inhabit this town. They're out there, just like the menfolk are.

As you can see above, the female douche who was submitted anonymously not only wears Madras (come on, really, do you want to take fashion nods from her?) And even though you dress like a clown threw up on your pants in the middle of a sailing escapade, the true crime here is the frequency with which you act like a complete clone.

You know the types... they travel in herds, they wear the same clothes, they visit all the same Hill bars, and they cackle like a group of hens. Most of them are either in DC or first came to DC on Daddy's dime, and you generally do things like drink too much and puke on the metro. Quite the peach there, sweetheart.

But truly, you can dress alike, spill your vodka tonic on our shoes and assume our boyfriends want you, but the true crime that you are guilty of is inflating the ego of the other douches. You have the art of female one-upmanship down to an art, and your desire to have the newest/cutest/tightest what have you only encourages more from other female douches. I mean truly, how much seersucker/madras/ sherbet colored clothing can one person wear?

When not competing, you are flirting with the male douches, making them think that all women want some sort of 160 lb. frat boy who is spending the semester away from his Northeastern University (which probably doesn't even have a football team, if that is any indicator of the kind of lame we're dealing with here). You let them buy you "RBV's", take you to "pound town" and they always come back for more, which you graciously give. Long and short of it, trade the Madras for some khaki, leave the lacrosse team alone, and don't waste your booze by spilling it all over the place at Cantina Marina. If you don't, you could make a huge mistake, like going home with a guy who looks like this...

Just Funny.

Anonymously Outed

Have to love this anonymously submitted Douche-Sighting. This appears to be at a place which is filled with Douche this time of year, ye olde Pour House. And the submission included a helpful checklist:

-Martini seersucker shorts (CHECK)
-Pastel colored polo shirt (CHECK)
-Sunglasses around the neck (CHECK)
-Boat shoes (we can't remember)

Disposable Income Douche Purchase

From Uncrate, which appears to have the douchiest selection of things to purchase if you have nothing noble to spend your money on...

Hotwicks

Hotwicks ($9) definitely aren't your typical candles. With scents like beer, campfire, grass (as in lawn), new car, pancake, pigskin, stripper, popcorn, and the rather scrumptious sounding urinal cake, your place can smell exactly how you want it to. Just be careful with combinations. While beer + grass + pigskin = great gameday memories, beer + hippie + stripper + urinal cake + dryer sheet = that time when you and that weird guy at the airport used your layover in Chicago to get plastered at a strip club, passed out in the bathroom, missed your flight, drove 9 hours home, then tried to cover up the incriminating smell with dryer sheets you bought at the 7-Eleven two blocks from home. Good times.

From our Friends at Esquire

Esquire is one of the least Douchy magazines a man can read. Fashion, funny (but true) tips about women, and even some functional bits. Either way, we love it. It also brings up a very good point about the word "Douche" which is something we here at Douche in DC take rather seriously.

Douchebag. This toxic mess of a man is said to be everywhere, all the time. Now, we're pretty sure that there are no more douchebags today than at any other time in our history. It only seems that way, thanks to a few virulent strains of modern life -- reality TV, political punditry, shameless Internet stars -- that insist America is awash with unsavory characters who beg comparison to vaginal irrigators. But most of these putative douchebags aren't really douchebags at all. They're assholes. Or they're idiots. Or they're just knobs. We're like the boy who keeps crying "douchebag," in love with the wet sound of a near-dirty word.

What keeps it sanitary, paradoxically, is its literalness. Unlike asshole or bullshit, douchebag refers to a device, an apparatus of common utility, and hasn't entirely shed its tie to meaning, so it's acceptable in a way that asshole or bullshit will never be. At the same time, it still has the naughty visuals, so self-styled edgy TV shows -- e.g., 30 Rock, The Office, The Daily Show -- employ it indiscriminately. As proven by tool in the late nineties, an epithet loses most of its value once it's appropriated by prime time.

Surely douchebag has value as a slur and deserves better than to die, slowly and painfully, at the hands of That's So Raven. We need to stop using it in order to save it. Because one day in the future, you'll come across a man -- a troublemaker without brains, a narcissist without charm, a breeder of ill will and contempt, the kind of man fond today of sniggering about douchebags -- and you'll want to call him what he is and have it mean something. In the meantime, try "wet fart."

So true, Esquire, so true. We realize that we use the word Douchebag a lot, but if you're defining something, you have to use it. However, as we referenced in our last post, if you find yourself growing tired of saying douche, you could always give the guy a card...



In the meantime, avoid those jerks, or avoid being one, and read Esquire's 10 things you don't know about women. Here's a sampler:

Ten Things You Don't Know About Women: Mindy Kaling

Buzz up!

The Office actress and writer on preferring sex tapes to porn and nine other things you don't know about women.

1. Unless we have silver hair or are a poet laureate, don't ever call us ma'am. Try girl. Justin Timberlake has made a career out of its generous use.

2. I look like a fool in a dress if you're in a T-shirt and jeans, but we look like a stylish couple if you add a blazer. Unrequired fanciness is the cutest thing ever.

3. Instead of calling your ex a bitch, say: "[Name] is being difficult and could act more reasonable." Then vent by flattening some boxes for recycling. This shows restraint and a love for the environment.

4. Girls like it when you nickname them something smaller than a bread box. Chickadee. Pat of Butter. Baby Mouse. This makes us feel tiny and adorable. Space Heater and Minivan do not.

5. Quit Facebook. If I'm standing next to you, and you're checking to see if you have any vampire bites from girls you went to camp with, something's wrong.

6. For setting the mood: two candles, max. More than that and you're the set decorator for Grey's Anatomy and the whole thing seems deliberate and icky.

7. Violent statements like "If that guy keeps looking at you, I'm going to tear his head off" are appealing. (As long as you're a quiet bookworm named Josh.)

8. If you defend a girl as "really smart when you get to know her," she is dumb. What you mean is, she's "really smart for a smokin'-hot girl who is stupid."

9. Your buddy doesn't mind receiving his new book in the Borders bag. We do. Wrap everything. Except engagement rings.

10. Women love sex tapes. Not porn -- sex tapes, because scandal is titillating. If you want to trick us into watching porn, tell us the girl in it is famous and we just haven't heard of her yet.

Mindy Kaling is a writer, producer, and cast member of The Office on NBC.

Gotta Have It

Especially in this town... Taken from Uncrate, which appears to be a website for douches with disposable incomes. However, these serve a purpose and are definitely useful in DC. Check out the explanation Uncrate provides:

he Douche Card

These are too great. Keep a couple Douche Cards ($5/package of 25 cards) in your wallet, and the next time that dude cuts in front of you at Chipotle, hand him one and head for Burger King.

Oh how many times we could have used these...

Douche of the Week

Part two "Douche of the Week" isn't someone who is in DC, rather, it is a gent who was in DC recently, and was rather douchy while he was here. That man is Kanye West. Now, Kanye has douched out before, but this time, at Bonnaroo, he douched douchier than ever before. Now, not only does Mr. West dress like a douche the majority of the time, he also acts douchy in a variety of ways. Basing a career on dropping out of college, after your parents spent their lives slaving away to give you the opportunity was pretty douche-tastic, but then again, so is Kanye.

Not only is this the basis of his musical career, he bolsters it with the numerous award show outbreaks, and even supports his Izod habit with insane tours. Now don't get me wrong, talented musician? Of course. Skilled stage man? Perhaps. Unflinching narcissist? UNDOUBTEDLY! The man uses tracks of bands and then insults them

Q: Why do you have groups like Coldplay, Daft Punk and Steely Dan on “Graduation"?

A: Some of these aren’t the coolest groups. But they have songs that really connect. (The Times of London, October 2007)



He even has an entire tour featuring him and just him. Oh and Lupe Fiasco for one song. Oh and a spaceship. However, the "spaceship" just talks to Kanye and verbally fellates him for the entire two hours. "Only you can save us, Kayne" or "You're the best rapper in the world, Kanye"... you get the picture.

However, none of the douchiness of before really matches his most recent douche move, from this weekend's Bonnaroo festival in Tennessee.


Taken from the Associated Press, I think this describes it all...

Delayed Kanye West gig angers Bonnaroo crowd

By JAKE COYLE

MANCHESTER, Tenn. (AP) — Kanye West's late night performance at Bonnaroo was delayed nearly two hours, angering the festival crowd who responded by chanting "Kanye sucks" and pelting the empty stage with glow sticks.

West had been scheduled to take the main stage at the Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival at 2:45 a.m. Sunday morning. While the sleepy thousands in the audience waited, a message on the jumbotrons told them West's show would be delayed until 3:15 a.m., and when that didn't happen, that he would start at 3:30. West didn't hit the stage until 4:25 a.m.

The delay was caused by problems setting up West's elaborate stage set, which included an interplanetary landscape of a wavy black platform with a slanted floor in the middle and a video screen above. West performed a spectacular galactic-themed concert complete with interaction with his spaceship, a disembodied female voice named Jane (a kind of sexier HAL).

Ken Weinstein, a spokesman for the annual festival held on a 700-acre site south of Nashville, said the delay was simply a matter of unloading the Pearl Jam stage (the band went an hour past its scheduled end time, playing until about 1:15 a.m.) and loading the West stage.

The festival, which boasted more than 150 acts spread out over four days, was otherwise very punctual. The West delay was all the worse because of its already very late schedule, and many campers lost energy before the concert and returned to their sleeping bags. Midway through his performance, the morning light showed that the crowd had dwindled substantially.

West had originally been slated to perform at 8:15 p.m. Saturday night, but requested a late night performance. At least in the first hour of his performance, West didn't address the crowd regarding the delay.

Later Sunday, the Bonnaroo crowd was still upset. Pedal steel guitarist Robert Randolph led a "Kanye sucks" chant.

A spokesperson for West didn't immediately return a request for comment.

Didn't return a request for comment? Big surprise, biiiig surprise. I think that an actual Bonnaroo attendee describes it best:

" OH and he DID cut his show short too (after beginning late) so not only did he start at 415-430 he didn't even play his entire show, while never acknowledging the crowd ONCE. I did enjoy that all the bands on sunday were ripping kanye a new asshole ALL day. It was awesome.
I wish I could remember some of the funny things we said when we were making fun of him...
damn you weed for destroying my memory..."


Spoken like a true Bonnaroo attendee. And that, my friends, is why Kanye West is the douche of the week. Let's hope he shapes up before he hits up the District again.

When Douche Visits DC

Though us "poor bitter hill staffers" would hate to take time away from the mockery which is clearly deserved by the "Tier 1, Porsche driving" gents who are clearly echelons above us, I thought it was long overdue that I spend some time discussing the Douche we all encounter every day, from every place, in every nook of our fair city... the tourist. Now, to discuss the douchiness of DC tourists is by no means a one post type of entry. In fact, there is no one type of touristy DC douche. All shapes, sizes, different colored fanny packs, they march, ahem, wander through our streets asking us for directions and generally irritating us.



All shapes sizes, and unfortunately, smells, the DC tourist never seems to leave. Christmas, the 4th of July, and the most dreaded of all, Cherry Blossom Week. The DC tourist flocks to town and brings the kids with them. Now, I can't say that all tourists are from obscure Midwestern cities, but let's just say they act like it. They dress like Nascar fans, they smell like a pack of schoolchildren that have been locked in a school bus, and they squeal
like boyband fans for no apparent reason. There are, however, a few lessons that tourists can learn to be less douchy, and to make the DC
regular tolerate them a little bit more. Hell, we figure that lists aren't douchy, so here's another.
Ways to be a Tourist Without Being a Douche...

Act like a human (with a brain) on the Metro.
We feel as if the douchy DC tourist isn't aware of this, but tourists, we have jobs. You see, you come from the farm to the big city and ride the fancy motor car, but to some of us, this is a commute. (That's a sophisticated-like word for "going to work"). Now, some douchy tourists know what a commute is, but they still don't appear to know how to behave on the metro. We work, we are going to work, and we don't want to see you when we are going to work. We realize we don't have a choice in this matter, but we reserve the right to complain. We also do not want to hear you talk on your cell phone, yell at your children (and vice-versa), or anything else causing our throbbing hangover to feel any worse. If we can hear you through our ipod, you're too damned loud. I don't come into your car in the morning and yell at you, do I? Show us the same courtesy.

Dress like an adult.
Case and point. If you wear this, you might as well wear a shirt that says "Please, rob me, I'm from out of town, and where I live, every stranger seems safe". Also, when we're robbing you because of your dumb t shirt, we can also tell what you've done that day, because you tour the entire city and leave your Capitol tour stickers on. You're really asking for it.


Oh, and I'm not really sure where in the United States/ the world people wear safari hats, sandals, socks, and fanny packs, but let's go ahead and throw it out there... none of that will be coming down the runway at Bryant Park. Hell, I'm not sure how you found that combo in Wal-Mart (yes, we've heard of them up here, no, we don't live in them like you folks do). Speaking of Wal-Mart, we all know you got this there...




Just plain wrong. Even if you're stuck on a street-corner, reading a map, you're much less likely to have the crap beaten from you if you're dressed like an adult, not a douche on some sort of suburban safari. So please, take off the tour stickers, leave the fanny pack at the Nascar track, don't wear a t shirt that screams "Fresh off the Farm", don't let the camera dangle around the neck, and act like a human on the metro. If you do these, you will still likely do something to frustrate us. We wish we could call you douchebags to your face, but we were on the Metro, and that place is bad enough. Please, don't douche out our city.



There will be more "Don't be a douchy tourist" tricks to come, so stay tuned... If anyone has advice or stories about tourists at their douchiest, please submit them to DC Douche Sightings and we could feature it here. Or at least you can bitch about it, which is all we really want any way.

Copycat

I think these clowns took our idea. Douchy. Also, very cute execution.

On Interns...

Not to bring attention to a blog that is a whole mess of douche, but we found this and couldn't look away. Really? Interns? Skeezy.

From a Random Former DC Dude (Non Douche)

This was submitted to us anonymously, and for this, we thank you:

I had a few minutes and read the DC Douche blog... they have really captured it to a tee (do you know the authors?). I have a new appreciation for what women go through in Washington after reading it. Please know, though, that I have hated Georgetown for years before reading this blog, but my feelings are nicely expounded upon in it. There are many of us former and current DC area residents who hate the DCDs as much as women.

I think the blog would do well to incorporate the fact that women actually do fall for these guys---perpetuating the cycle endlessly.

Also, it might worth mention the victimhood of "normal men." Although we aren't preyed upon by them like the women are, we do have to deal with petty things like their refusal to move out of the way in public crossing situations, especially in bars. Also, confrontation can quickly ensue from any perceived snub (like smudging a boat shoe), and three or more DCDs typically swarm and call the normal man "pussy," "queer," or some other charming word from an 8th grader's vocabulary.

Wow, you really reminded me of how much I hate those guys! On behalf of my gender, I apologize.

From how to spot 'em to how to rate 'em.

This rating system appears to be a bit douchy in itself, as it counts in a rather backwards, confusing way. You would think it would go from lower to higher like the terror alert system, but no. It would make more sense that way, as if a collar, popped toward the sky, pointing upward to the douchiest of all offenses. Either way, this is a simplified douchebag rating system. Let's go ahead and DC-ify it. We'll rank the DC douche from level 5, "Blip on the Radar", all the way to 1, "Douche of the Highest order"....

5. Harmless today, gone tomorrow. Why, according to our poll, the least offensive of the DC douches is the Hill Staffer. Sure, he attempts to dress in high fashion like the professional men of much greater cities (no, Brooks Brothers doesn't make you a high-classed Manhattan man), and he may be too broke to buy a girl anything (ever). But at the end of the day, he isn't going to roofie your drink, move into your apartment after he got evicted, or embarrass you in front of all of your friends. There are plenty of habits the Hill Staffer Douche has (speaking in all legislative jargon, for one), but he is relatively harmless, and therefore the least of the DC douches. Also, he's likely to grow up, move back to the Midwest, find himself a wife, and you will never be able to tell he is a reformed douche. Good for him.

4. Harmless but annoying. This douche is annoying, to say the least. That is the jock douche. Not much attention has been paid to the jock douche, as he is a tricky character. Hill douche, Intern Douche, Georgetown Douche, and just about any other sort of douche can be a jock douche. These guys jog in public wearing very little clothing, oil themselves up by the pool for all to see, and make it a point to show off their bodies at any given opportunity. These douche jocks are also the ones that break clipboards and scream constant profanity during League softball games. There is a reason it's a beer league team, lay off the protein shakes and have a good time. Also, the jock douche may talk about sports at an alarming, irritating rate. This is the over-confident douche that reminds everyone of how he won the office's March Madness pool, all while challenging all around him to his own breed of sport: beer pong. Line up ladies, these guys are winners. Either way, they remain harmless because they are clearly far too into themselves and improving their pecs to truly be a threat.

3. Hell bent on being a douchebag. See, I knew that this chart was douchy. It misspelled "Influential". And what does "Minorly" even mean? Either way, the Georgetown douche is next. These guys know they drive cars that are nicer than the rest of ours, have trust funds to waste, and spend their summers driving from yacht to yacht on their customized golf carts. They dress the part, they drink at Smith Point, and the best part? They don't pay for a damned thing. Entitlement people, entitlement. Why earn their own money when they have dad's? And while we're buying a good time, why not go ahead and assume that since we don't need to pay, we don't need to behave, don't need to respect women, and certainly do need to dress like an over payed assclown. They run in a gaggle of fellow douches and this only intensifies the douchebaggery that they bring to the table.

2. Has a lot of potential to make societal change for the worse. This would be your classic Manther-douche. Only Urban Dictionary can do the Manther justice. DC is full of Manthers. They buy us drinks, they fill our elevators, hell, some of them are our bosses. They can be congressmen, senators, CEO's, or simply lobbyists looking to fulfill some sort of long lost Lewinsky fantasy. Either way, they're douchy, they're skeezy, and boy are they in DC in an extremely high proportion. They're also old balls. Sure they think they are in their prime, and that all the young girls in town want to talk to them and booze off of their dime, but they're wrong. At least their cougar-counterparts let the young men come to them. The Manther, however, is a hunter, seeing the young cub as huntee, and he hunts, and hunts, and hunts until the poor young DC lady finds herself envious of the Zebras on the Discovery Channel that she envisions herself being ripped from limb to limb (literally, not in some sexual Manther-prowess sort of way). As Urban Dictionary says "Some manthers are extremely good looking, stylish and somewhat gentlemanly. Others are old, drunk dirt balls with a lot of money and a feeling of self-entitlement." Unfortunately, the DC Douche Manther is generally the latter of the two.

1. Douchebag of the highest order. Let's go ahead and use this as the "All of the above" douche. He is the Hill-staffing, Georgetown-shopping, muscle-flexing, manther-in-the-making douche. He is the persistent guy at the bar who won't leave you alone, even after a guy you're with tells him "Seriously dude, she is NOT interested" (sad, but true). He thinks you want to talk about how he blasted his pecs at the gym, how he nailed some broad the other weekend, and how important he is a work. He revels in "intern season", thinks he is the Don of the Cap Lounge, and uses his blackberry to "Poke" you on facebook. Who pokes people on facebook? You're a grown man, honestly. Your golf-playing, trust-fund-having, collar-popping ways have you on a one way pay to being a Manther-in-the-making, and we couldn't be more scared at the fact that in a few short years your fraternity connections from years gone by will likely have you as our supervisors, our elected leaders, or worse yet, the only men left in our dating pool.

Douche Sighting

This Douche Sighting was emailed to us at DCdouchesightings@gmail.com . This guy was spotted jogging, smoking a cigarette.

Spotted: Intern Douche

A rant we picked up from Craig's List

Intern wearing Tiara drinking Appletinis at Tryst Friday evening - m4w - 24 (Adams Morgan)

I should have gotten up and told you this in person, but perhaps it would have come off wrong. That's why people post missed connections, right?

Thank you so much for enlivening the DREARY Tryst atmosphere by stumbling in-- were you already tipsy? Don't lie! -- with your girlfriends during the early evening hours at Tryst. I assume from the tiara that it was your birthday? Maybe your 21st? How exciting to turn 21 at the beginning of your important Hill internship! The tiara, by the way, shows the kind of self-awareness in a girl that really turns me on! Cheers, too, to your sophisticated choice of drinks. Appletinis!

Thanks for not minding all the boring people around you reading books or having quiet conversation by the candlelight. You go girl for mistaking Tryst for Tom-Tom! You and your girlfriends raised the decibel level of the conversations in the room by at least 50% with your shrieks and Long Island accents! Your attire was terrific, too. That little black dress that you and all your girlfriends were wearing-- what a unique choice; I've never anyone wear one to go out in Adams Morgan-- really complemented the orange fake tan you were wearing.

So yeah, if you read these-- if you know what Craigslist is!-- definitely send me a note. I'd really love to observe your behavior one-on-one as part of my avocational interest in social anthropology. Maybe we can even meet go to Tryst again!

Me- Irritated person reading serious novel at nearby couch

Seersucker Chit Chat

Spotted on The Capitolist, there appears to be a bit of chatter sharing the mutual DC hatred of Seersucker:


" yeah well i've got a jackass intern wearing seersucker"

"Seersucker is actually very comfortable and does keep you somewhat cooler compared to a regular suit."

"but at what cost... at what cost.."

"The Cost? Your soul and ability to woo northern women."


"who wants northern women anyway?"

"just wait until next Thursday, they'll be lazy douchebags in seersucker"

"Why is there an intern wearing seersucker socks in Cannon? I almost fell over laughing"




Even the President has had a seersucker-bashing past...

President Bush called a little last-minute press conference this morning at our news workspace across the street from the White House and just ripped into Ken Herman of Cox Newspapers over his choice of seersucker.

You'd think after the recent contretemps when Bush mocked LA Times reporter Peter Wallsten for wearing sunglasses in the Rose Garden that the president would be a little gun-shy about personal remarks at press conferences. Think again!

Herman came to work today not improbably attired in a seersucker suit of two shades of brown on a field of cream. He drew Bush's notice by kibbitzing about dancing during an exchange between the president and Helen Thomas.

PRESIDENT BUSH: If I ask for any comments from the peanut gallery, I'll call on you, Herman.

Q Mr. --

PRESIDENT BUSH: Yeah. By the way, seersucker is coming back. I hope everybody gets it. Never mind.

Herman: It's the summertime east Texas county commissioner look.

Later, when Bush was asked about the Lieberman Senate race:

PRESIDENT BUSH: I'm going to say out of Connecticut. (Laughter.)

Herman: It's your native state, Mr. President! You were born there!

PRESIDENT BUSH: Shhh!

Q How can you stay --

PRESIDENT BUSH: I may be the only person -- the only presidential candidate who never carried the state in which he was born. Do you think that's right, Herman? Of course, you would have researched that and dropped it out for everybody to see, particularly since I dissed that just ridiculous-looking outfit.

Herman: Your mother raised you better than that, Mr. President.

PRESIDENT BUSH: I did. So I'm not going to say it --

Q It was Al Gore --

PRESIDENT BUSH: -- and I don't want anybody to know that I think it's ridiculous-looking.

Herman, who has covered Bush since 1993, got called on later in the press conference and asked about Iraq, and whether Bush believes the ends will justify his strategy there, or whether the president doesn't care if he ever wins public support for it.

Herman: Thank you, sir. Go ahead.

PRESIDENT BUSH: I don't need to now that you've stood up, and everybody can clearly see (the suit) for themselves.

Indeed Bushy, indeed. Everyone can clearly see that for better (or mainly for worse), Seersucker season is upon us.

Douches on the Town

As this week has been particularly long and rainy, it is worth looking forward to the weekend. The rain may be pouring down outside, but the DoucheinDC team has had a particularly dry Wednesday, and we're ready for some Thirsty Thursday action. And what could ruin a perfectly enjoyable evening of imbibing more than an encounter with a DC Douche? So, as the weekend agonizingly drags itself closer to our tired brains and beer-hungry mouths, we offer these words of warning for a Douche free weekend.

1. Avoid the places where the Douches roam.
It sounds rather self explanatory, doesn't it? However, one might be surprised at just where the douchebag will lurk. A surefire way to locate these places is to hit up anywhere in Late Night Shots top list of bars. Be sure to steer clear of Smith Point, Clarendon Ballroom, McFadden's, and pretty much anywhere in Georgetown. However, if you're reading these posts, we're willing to go out on a limb and assume you are at least quasi-educated and not a douche. Therefore, you can figure out which spots to avoid. Be careful though, there are some trickier places where the douches roam, such as Nationals Park when the Yankees are in Town.

2. Ladies, travel with an entourage.
That's right, the buddy system. Your mother always taught you to never, ever go places alone, so why meander about the mean streets of DC without someone you trust? If at all possible, bring male company, nothing scares off douche like an actual man who would/ could cause damage to the pretty boys, should someone scuff up someone's boat shoes. If this isn't possible, be sure to bring a trusted girlfriend, complete with hidden hand gestures for emergency situations. Each group of girls should work out a series of nonverbal cues to represent phrases such as "I don't want to talk to this guy any more", "Get me out of here", "Dear God, he can't dance and he keeps grabbing my ass", and "Why can't he just take a hint and get his bow tie out of here?". Any of these can be employed at any time, and you can (hopefully) escape the wrath of the bar douche.

3. Avoid direct eye contact.
This is challenging, as we know douches often wear Raybans/Oakleys/Eurotrash sunglasses inside the bar, but this is important. If you look them in the eye, they will buy you a pretentious drink, suck you into a pretentious conversation, roofie your drink, and before you know it, you will be forced to meet the rest of the lacrosse team for a night of debauchery about town. If you cut them off at the pass, there is no chance that these lot can break down your douchebag defenses. If you don't start strong and stay that way, you will be giving out phone numbers, email addresses, and receiving evites to fraternity orgies for the rest of your life. Just say no.

Now, there are certainly more ways to avoid douchebags when enjoying yourself at the bar, but these are the three most important, tried-and-true ways to avoid this group at all costs. If these tactics seem all together foreign to you, then we have a much, much larger problem. You could be a bar douche. If you are unsure, continue reading and you can check your actions to our list...

10 Douchiest Things to do at the Bar

10. Name drop.
This is DC, you know how this goes. As soon as the douche says "My name is Trevor/Travis/Trent/Christopher Weldon the IV/ some other douchy name", he generally drops in who he works for. Don't do this unless prompted to. Maybe don't do it then.

9. Check your blackberry all night.
We get it. You have lots of work to do for congressman/senator blah blah, but let's be honest, you're not getting emails from him at last call on a Friday. Put it down, walk away.

8. Assume that drinks are currency for sex acts.
If you buy someone a drink, this is no legally binding contract, don't treat it as such. When you buy rounds and rounds of car bombs for your "bros", do you expect them to put out? Didn't think so (not that it's easy to decipher though, considering the heinous amount of pink you guys wear). Either way, buying drinks doesn't translate into a night of hot, passionate, lovemaking.

7. Dance with us when we clearly aren't interested.
Sure, we all like to dance with an attractive stranger. Now, this does not necessarily include you. Take a hint, read some body language, and know when to back the hell off. Also, dancing doesn't include ass-grabbing, nipple-tweaking, man-sandwiching, or anything else that is so horrendous. If a girl runs away to her group of friends in at least one visible manner, she doesn't want to dance with you.

6. "Missed Connection" us on Craig's List.
If you wanted to talk to us at the bar, you should have. If you wanted our number at the end of said conversation, you should have asked. As far as that goes, if you can't man up and ask for our number, chances are we don't want a wimp like you to have it. Missed connections are douchy for the most part, responding to them is even more douchy, and anything involving some sort of long lost love that only involves one person is certainly douchy.

5. Play Journey on the jukebox.
I like Journey. You like Journey. Hell, we all like Journey. However, we do NOT like Journey every hour, on the hour, all weekend long. We also like when Steve Perry sings "Don't Stop Believin'", not you and your buddies, as a form of victory rally, post kickball championship. Journey is too good to be douchy, but every time it gets overplayed at the bar, the terrorists win.

4. Be rude to the bartender.
Although you have a fancy education, and a swanky plastic ID badge, neither of these things allow you to be rude to the bar staff. Yes, the bartender pours, mixes, and delivers drinks. No, they aren't there to clean up after you, to loan you smokes, or to come to your every beck and call. Don't get on your high horse about being at the bar, because remember: they probably make more than you, and at the end of the day, you are most likely doing some sort of manual labor as an intern/staff assistant.

3. Ask us if we have facebook/gchat.
Maybe we do. We don't want you to know about it. End of story.

2. Talk Politics.
Sure, you spend your weekends in the trenches phoning for Obama, or researching the details of tax code legislation, but does anybody want to talk about it at the bar? If we wanted to talk shop, we would stay at the shop. Lord knows DC is one of a few cities where drinking at work is encouraged. We can bring booze to work, don't bring work to the booze. This also increases the likelihood that you will start a fight, which could very well be a bullet point all of it's own...

1. Be a sloppy asshole.
You drank too much, you danced too hard, you puked on our shoes. Way to go. You probably started with power hour as soon as you got done gelling your hair, and things went downhill after that. Everyone knows that you think JMU is better than George Mason, now that you screamed it aloud across the bar. You started a fist fight with the cab driver over a two dollar tip. You are all around sloppy, and nobody likes that, not even your buddy that has to explain to the cops why you're puking in the gutter. Lock it up, chief.

Well, there you have it. Take our three tips to avoid douchebaggery, or check your own actions against our top ten most douchy. If you are guilty of one, it may well be an isolated incident, but if you hit two or more, bad news...

Disposable Income Douche

Well folks, the Douche in DC crew got a case of the Mondays yesterday, and the post we set up didn't quite execute. Stay tuned, we'll double up one day shortly. But hey, enough of that.

We have been inspired by a submission of a douche caught driving into DC this morning, which brings us to a rather DC-specific douche phenomenon: the disposable income douche.

Found in very few places (New York is another great example), the DC Disposable Income douche can afford to spend his money in the douchiest ways imaginable. Buying rounds of shots for girls who are clearly uninterested, paying a cab driver horrendous amounts of cash to take their date home, or custom tailored, overpriced suits, the over-payed DC Douche throws money around, often times in the faces of the over-worked, underpaid Hill staffers. There are few things douchier than going to a bar selling $2 Drafts and $4 quesadillas and ordering top-shelf liquors. Though throwing their money around in front of females is clearly douchy, at least the money is well spent on the less-"fortunate", and is therefore removed from the cycle of poor, douchy decisions.

Perhaps the douchiest move of all is when these Douches, in their mid to late twenties, spend the money on frivolous boy things such as X boxes or elaborate porn. Wasting money on online poker, bizarre signed Super Bowl replicas, the newest and broadest selection of Ipods, or the trendiest golf clubs, there are so many things the disposable income douche can foolishly spend his money on. Whether you obtained your excessive amounts of money from Half-Life/Counterstrike tournaments or from a lucrative job on K street, there is certainly no fear of this disposable income going to a worthy cause (unless you consider purchasing baseball season tickets to be a noble act).

Previously, DoucheinDC has shown the typical garb of a DC Douche, and don't you worry, plenty of that disposable income goes into keeping up the look.


For example, these delightful, manly pink Crab pants cost a mere $115.00. Looking douchy doesn't come cheap! Throw in the $85.00 polo and the overpriced hair products and you can see why the Douche needs to be single at thirty, making boatloads of money, and has very little to show for it. In case the Crab pants don't earn enough respect for the DC Douche when worn in close interactions, there are things that the douche can purchase that allows everyone around them to know that they are, indeed, the balls.





If a two-seater, convertible Porsche isn't a douchy enough car, this DC Douche (spotted commuting to work in the District), thought that they either made enough money to waste it on something so ridiculous as personalized license plates, or truly felt that strangers should know they are some sort of sorcerer. Maybe he thinks that his vehicle will make women instantly fall victim to his own brand of witchcraft? Maybe he is convinced he has his own super powers? Either way, making such a bold assertion in the form of molded steel is one of the douchiest ways for a DC Douche to spend their money. Watch out, ladies, don't catch his spell. As our mothers always said, some people have "More Money than Sense". Too bad you can't use some of your disposable income to buy some common sense (or fashion sense for that matter). But let's face it, if you could use money to buy sense, a DC douche would likely choose not to.


Be sure to submit DC Douche Sightings to dcdouchesightings@gmail.com, and perhaps your DC Douche will become the inspiration for our next post!

Douche of the Week

Happy one week anniversary douchewatching enthusiasts. Douche in DC has completed it's first week on the web, and we couldn't be happier (well, if it weren't intern season, we could be). Good week though, we were even picked up by another non-douchy DC entity...
http://famousdc.com/2008/05/28/how-to-spot-a-dc-douche-bag/

Here is our first ever Douche of the Week. Spotted at My Brother's Place, this intern has the crocs/flaming pants/polo shirt combo down. He was even too young to get in, and the chick with him had to help him use his fake ID. Sad sad, and douchy to say the least.

Be sure to submit your own DC Douche sightings, and maybe the Douche you spot will become the next Douche of the Week.

Submit to dcdouchesighting@gmail.com

Intern Invasion

Ah, DC, summer is upon us. Sidewalks and swimming pools are filling with people, three day weekends abound, and sadly, the town is filled with Douches-in-training. Yes, the interns have arrived. This younger generation of asshats is now clogging the hill with more rainbows and polo shirts than you can shake a lacrosse stick at. Often times, these interns are found in and around the Hill, badges proudly showing, making the most of the internship that was no doubt purchased with their parents' campaign contributions. The trouble with interns, however, is that they migrate from all over the country and therefore lack the visible douchebag dress that is so common in the professional, older DC douche. Never fear ladies, the interns are a breed of their own, and they too can be spotted for their douchedom.

Stuffing envelopes, answering phones, and giving the illustrious Capitol tour, the intern is never free of the "important" duties that come with congressional internships. This is worth remembering, as the intern attitude is the douchiest of all. Bright red badge displayed at all times, this allows the rest of the city to see just how important this young douche is. Clearly, if we all had "jobs" that were this important, we too would want to wear them as a literal badge of honor. The badge isn't necessary though, because the air of cocky self-importance makes the douche stand out like a boner in sweatpants. After just recently turning 21, coming to DC from their university/frat house/ yacht club elsewhere, the intern douche crowds the Hill bars and hits on the unsuspecting female interns. (These too are a breed of their own, you would think that they would be wise to these tricks, seeing as gents like these crowd their sorority houses and get them drunk off of smirnoff ices the 10 months a year they aren't interning in DC). Instead, though, they buy them jagerbombs, talk about their internly duties, and make out in public. These female intern conquests are made worse by the unholy amount of retelling that goes on (think lots of "bro", "bra", and other such terminology).

Perhaps the most douchy of intern moves is the pretending to be a staffer, in order to improve their chances with the DC ladies. The intern that is wily enough would ditch the badge, remain coy about giving out their work email, and describe their job as "Performing many of the staff assistant duties". This is particularly frightening, as interns can be any age, and the older the intern may seem, the more likely he is to attempt this elaborate hoax. Someone recently reported a real-life douche spotting in which an intern pretended to be staff, and even went so far as to obtain a broken blackberry, pretend it was his own broken blackberry, and ask the girl for help fixing it. Talk about a douche move.

But alas, ladies and staffers, and DCers alike, this too shall pass, as intern season will end, the bars will clear out, and we will be stuck spotting the grown DC douche. Finally, a reason to look forward to winter.


Here they are, in their natural habitats...