Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Seriously OMG Moving is TEH AWESOMENESS

So as Burt has informed all our many readers, your Weekend Douche editors are all in the process of moving. This past Saturday night, after the big move, old Bob Wiley decided to stay in the apartment and vegetate while Nora, Burt and Harvey's Mom, the consummate weekend douches, went to a party in the East Village (I'm sure you guys have realized by now, I'm the quiet Beatle). It's about midnight at this point. Bored, crabby, and without cable television to console me, I decided to have a few beers and hang my curtains. I was standing on my bed and still having trouble, as we have high ceilings in the new place, but finally got the fuckers up. I decided to do a victory move, jumping in the air with an enthusiastic fist pump and landing Indian style on my bed, much like a 4 year old who just found out there would be 2 episodes of Duck Tales on instead of the usual 1. I think you know what happened, Mary Lou Retton over here broke the god damn bed frame. Obviously I had done an amazing job putting it together.

I decided to attempt to fix the situation. I was wearing my very favorite pajama pants and was sort of sliding around on the floor, from one side of the bed to the other, trying to ascertain what the problem was. All of a sudden I hear a loud rip. Apparently there was a nail sticking slightly up out of the floor, and said nail split my pants right down the middle. (I find the concept of splitting your pants to be the funniest thing that could ever happen.) At this point I decided I couldn't endure any further humiliation, put my mattress on the floor, and went to bed, battered but not broken. Three days later and that mattress is still on the floor, I suspect it will be for quite some time.

**Please note, that is not actually a picture of me. I was wearing underpants, I'll have you know.**

Spotlight On....Vladamir!!!

The next focus of our Spotlight series will be an intimate look at Vladamir, or rather, and intimate look at his strange obsession with his jacket.

Awhile ago, Vladamir stayed at my apartment one night and left his jacket. So, for three weeks, he called myself and my roommates, which included Harvey’s Mom at the time, about the goddamn jacket. You would think this shit was covered in Swarovski Crystals the way he was acting. Instead, it was a $35 Adidas zip up running jacket he bought at the Foot Locker. He would later claimed he purchased this thing in Hungary, but ain’t nothing Hungarian except his lack of personal space.

So obviously, being the people we are, my roommates and I decided that since he was being such a ridiculous prick about the whole thing, his ass was never getting that jacket back. We were bold at first, wearing the jacket to events, half hoping to tempt faith, him seeing us in the jacket and our responding with something along the lines of “Well you talked so much about that fucking jacket, I had to see what all the fuss was about. It sure is comfortable!” In fact, I hid it in my house in New Jersey for safekeeping to make sure things didn’t get physical. I can just imagine him reading this blog, finding this shit out, and taking my 93 year old Italian grandmother hostage over this.

Recently, we have been toying with the idea of taking the jacket to foreign countries and photographing it with various landmarks, like the Eiffel Tower, Empire State Building, etc. Again, just toying. Nothing is set in stone. YET.

Editor's Note: My computer just froze while trying to download a pic. and my fork broke while eating my breakfast. Vladamir has put some weird Eastern European gypsy hex on me!! It is like the movie "Thinnner". I should ask him to cure me into a functional alcoholic....

Friday, June 26, 2009

R.I.P Michael Jackson

On our behalf of all of us at Weeekend Douche, we would like to say that out hearts go out to the family and friends of Micahel Jackson. I know we don't usually follow actual news that doesn't involve someone falling in their own vomit, but this is one of those times when something should be said. He was not only a huge talent and one of the greatest singers/performers ever, but he was also an icon. He will be missed.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Since It Would Be Unfair To Leave You With Nothing....

Feast your eyes on this!!! Today I have been googling "Golden Retriever Puppies" and ooohing and ahhhing over the results. I didn't think it fair to be selfish, since we are having an off week and can't post. Thus, here is your consolation prize. Please enjoy on behalf of us! Tell me the one in the middle doesn't look exactly like Comet from "Full House".

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Programming Note a.k.a We're Moving On Up!!

Let's be honest, the best investment I ever made in my life was "The Secret", because I have been sitting here willing our move back to Manhattan and it has finally happened!!! Just wanted to give everyone a quick heads up that the site will not be updated too much this week, since we are packing our shit and heading North my friends!!! Brother Jimmy's and Jake's Dilemma here we come!

Monday, June 22, 2009

Fun With Ernie Part 2

And now, the stunning conclusion of Lil' Jimmy from Tenafly's epic story of one wild night with Ernie:

Cut to ten minutes later. Vans and Ivan are saying, “Come on Ernie, you know you want to go in the pool!” “I do?” Ernie asks? We all go outside toward the pool and Ernie starts to take off his shirt when Ivan and Vans explode in a barrage of dead-leg and dead-arm punches to Ernie. “Get him in the pool!” Vans yells. They struggle with him and he escapes, past the pool to behind the tool shed while Ivan and Vans split up to surround him. I hear a scuffle and Ernie screams “Stop!” and then nothing. Vans and Ivan emerge looking smug. I pick up Ernie’s shirt and walked behind the shed to find Ernie lying in the dirt, rolling back and forth slightly, saying “bastards, bastards.” “Hey man, you gotta put your shirt on, it’s fucking freezing out here!” I’m trying to get his hands to open and accept his shirt. He says, “Fuck you bastards!” and throws a big clump of dirt in my face. “I was trying to help you, you fuck!” I yell as I claw at my eyes. So I kick him. And I leave him there, with his shirt sitting on top of him.

Ivan and Vans are sitting by the pool smoking cigarettes, laughing and unconcerned. I return and sit with them, eyes still burning and half-blind. We sit there for a few minutes and suddenly we see a dark form emerge from behind the shed. Ernie managed to get his shirt back on. He walks toward us soberly and quietly and then starts running and hurls himself into the dark water of the pool. “Shit,” Ivan said, “get the fuck out of there, you crazy bastard! He’s gonna freeze!” He reached for Ernie but Ernie just swam into the center of the pool treading water and not speaking. Vans was still sitting in one of the lawn chairs and was chuckling himself into a frenzy.

“I gotta take care of everything,” Ivan said, pulling off his t-shirt and flexing his massive arms and pecks. He jumps in the water and pulls Ivan out like a mother otter pulling out her weakest pup. Ivan pulls away and hops back in the pool. This goes on for several minutes, at one point I remember Ernie half in and half out of the pool, lying face down on the concrete with his legs still dangling in the water, and Vans walks over and drops a huge mess of dust and leaves on Ernie’s head. We eventually got Ernie out of the pool and he collapsed permanently on the Oriental rug in the kitchen. There he slept till morning. Are we the biggest douchebag friends ever or what?

We love submissions, so please send them to weekenddouche@gmail.com!!!

Friday, June 19, 2009

Word on the street: there's a toilet broken in Bangladesh.
Harvey's Mom just threw a plastic cup at Nora. Venting.


At Snackys. Excellent service as always. Nora and I are splitting White Deer sake.

The Ultimate Weekend Douche is Back

(Photo courtesy of Dlisted)

In case you haven't been following the story as closely as I have, my alter ego, Katie Price aka Jordan, has separated with her husband, trashy Eurohunk (redundant?) Peter Andre. As sad as it is, of course, to see the dissolution of a marriage, especially since they have kids, a part of me is rejoicing because now that Katie is on the prowl, she's back to her old Jordan ways. Meaning, on a typical evening out she'll get shitfaced, feel somebody up in a bathroom, and threaten to cut a bitch. So here's to you, Katie! Douche it up for all the single ladies out there.

It seems that she's already found a new over-tanned, over-muscled Eurohunk. I really like her outfit in this photo, especially since she can't seem to walk unassisted. But who could stand up in those shoes? I feel her pain. As I myself once said outside of San Loco, "I hate these fucking shoes!"

As much as I dislike linking to Perez, this article sums up Katie's recent activity quite nicely: http://perezhilton.com/2009-06-18-jordan-on-the-loose

The Winner of This Week's Caption Contest IS.....Two Tickets to Paradise!

This week's winner of the caption contest was Two Tickets to Paradise!!! Frankly Tickets, your mother must be very proud! There are many great achievements in life, such as graduating from college, passing the Bar exam, etc. but don't they sort of pale in comparison with the true joy that comes from knowing that once again, Number797979 did not win!!! Tickets, send me your address. I am sending you two cases of Mountain Dew for this one...

Finally, there will be no funny picture. My computer is funky. You have an imagination, just think of a can of Mountain Dew busting out of the Rockies or something.

Liveblogging, Douche Style!

So I don't know if you guys are keen to it yet, but there is this little thing called liveblogging. It involves someone literally sitting on their laptop/i-phone typing everything they see, minute by minute. The posts are usually filled with completely unimportant information and extreme attention to superflous detail. The whole thing sounds obnoxious!! So, obviously, we are going to start doiing it tonight at a bar in Williamsburg. I can only imagine the observations our drunk asses will come up with. An example of what is to come:

12:28 Just finished vomiting in the bathroom. Wonderful dial handsoap. Classy.
12:31 Fifth rum and diet. LGMBB just told someone she works for the FBI. Things are getting heated.
12:33 Nora fell off a stool. No one can find Harvey's Mom!!!!

Tales from Bonnaroo, Part I

I just arrived home from Bonnaroo and there was douchiness abound. I have to say I was one of the leading contributors by doing things such as shotgunning a beer at 7 am. The first of many Bonnaroo stories I have to share is a cautionary tale.

I was at the NIN show, which started around 1. There are bleechers surrounding this particular stage and I was standing to the side of them by the railing. I noticed a girl stumbling down the side f the bleachers, holding her mouth. At this point I have to say I was the only one that noticed her. She got to the first row of the bleachers and for some reason turned around and faced the people sitting in them, still holding her mouth. And with that, she blew chunks on the entire first row of the NIN show. It was very much like that scene in Stand by Me. I didn't stick around to see the aftermath but I suspect it involved a young woman beaten to death with a glow stick. You seriously do not want to play with NIN fans.

Thursday, June 18, 2009


This classic submission comes to us from our dedicated reader, RojoCalienteLover:

I encountered a classic instance of weekend douchery while visiting my girlfriend in Philly a few weeks ago. My girl and I were heading to the Dockstreet Brewery (bangin pizza, busted in the face hipster waitresses with shitty tattoos) when we passed a bar with a group of people standing outside. As we got closer, we saw that a woman was getting up in the face of one of the dudes, waving her arms and screaming at the top of her lungs. It was then that we heard the magical words "AH DO NOT SELL MAH PUSSAY FOR MONEH!!!!" come out of the woman's mouth. She continued to prove that she indeed does not sell her pussy for money, listing her numerous professional qualifications (apparently she has an associates degree in psychology and is currently employed as a councelor, thank you very much). Unfortunately the bar's owner came out at that point and told them to take their fuckery elsewhere, so we were unable to determine how this misunderstanding came to be in the first place, and just why this man was under the impression that she might sell her pussy for money. Still, this conversation has to be in the running for some sort of douche-nozzle award.

Thanks Rojo! Excellent citizen journalism. And readers, if you need to find some pussy for sale, you know where to find me!

P.S. If anyone knows how to make an LOLCat using the above title, that would be awesome.

Open Letter to the Managers of San Loco on Second Avenue

Dear Esteemed Managers of the Second Avenue San Loco Location:

As a dedicated patron for many years, I feel compelled to write you to let you know that my experience at your establishment last weekend was subpar at best. I arrived at 3am on a Friday night, which is generally indicative of the best time to dine at your restaurant. I find that the late night chefs really know how to work that liquid cheese and grade C ground beef. (Did they train with Ducasse? Perhaps they studied at the Cordon Bleu?)

In short, I ordered my usual, the chicken chipotle Burrito Loco, and I could not believe how altered it was from the sensory experience I remember. There was barely any pico de gallo or guacamole, but the real problem lay with the sauce. The burrito loco SHOULD NOT be topped with sour cream. Its true beauty lies in the unique, nuanced layering of flavors in its rightful, buttery cream sauce. While savoring the dish at the Williamsburg San Loco, sometimes I wonder if I taste hints of Madagascar vanilla or star anise.

Perhaps you can take a cue from Starbucks. When they finally realized that their drip coffee tasted like shit and they needed to do something about it, they closed every location for 30 minutes while they had a staff meeting and taught baristas how to make a perfect cup, because it's so difficult to put a filter in a coffee machine. Maybe you should have a meeting with your Williamsburg location, pinnacle of cafeteria slop that it is, and find out how it is really done.

As a side note, I recommend that you refrain from letting clients who behave like sex offenders sit directly next to the cash register while they wait for their catfish nachos. This will only lead to the sexual harassment of your upstanding clientele, and as I am one of only three persons who has returned to dine at San Loco after their first visit, I wouldn't piss me off. I find myself disappointed in you, not angry with you.


Harvey's Mom
Weekend Douche Editor

Fun With Ernie Part 1

Behold, the first part of a two part submission from one of our favorite contributors, Lil'Jimmy from Tenafly, New Jersey:

In high school and vacations during college, we always would party at my friend Ivan’s house. His dad’s a big-time doctor and they just have one of those awesome houses, not a mansion but four floors of bedrooms, huge TV’s and good times all around. And he’s got a huge beautiful backyard and pool.

Now it’s fall of our freshman year, probably October or November. By then the pool had closed although it had not yet been covered, so the water was a gross greenish color with lots of dirty leaves in it and shit.

My friend Ernie gets trashed while we’re all hanging out. He drinks 9 shots of 151. Ernie is 6,2, and even though he’s a big guy, he can be a serious pushover. Ivan and our other friend Vans are like predators, they’re always on the hunt for shit like this. They are football players and really love to just beat the shit out of each other. One time outside Ivan’s, Ivan put a Bic lighter on the inside of Vans ear and lit it! Vans went beserk and grabbed a rusty hedge clipper! Luckily he was so drunk the hedges immediately caught his attention and he just did some amateur work on Ivan’s hedges instead of murdering him.

Ernie drunkenly makes his way to the bathroom outside the kitchen and closes the door. The first thing Vans does is grab Ernie’s cell phone from the kitchen counter. He presses the dial button. “Hello?” he says? “Okay, hold on a sec.” He kicks open the bathroom door and says, “Hey Ernie, what are you doing?” He then holds the phone out for whoever is on the other line to hear Ernie’s response. Ernie drunkenly replies, at first amused “I’m takin a shit!” We all laugh at this, standing around the bathroom where our drunk friend is pooping. “But Ernie, don’t you realize you’re talking to Katy Blum, the girl you were in love with in high school?” We all stop for a moment and stare at Vans in horror before exploding in hysterical laughter. Ernie’s eyes go wide but then look resigned as he sighs out, “Aww phooey!”

Please send all submissions to weekenddouche@gmail.com

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Dickchicken-The New Banksy?

It started with one spotting over in Williamsburg. Harvey's Mom and I were taking a morning after drinking constitutional and we saw the word "Dickchicken" spray painted across a wall. Of course, we thought this was hilarious, took a picture of it, blah blah blah. However, it would seem that there were more tags out there to be found by us and others. Next came the combination of the image of a penis with chicken appendages and the name "Dickchicken". Next, just the image, which arguably relays more of the message of questioning authority and thinking for oneself. Furthermore, this phenomenon had spread from just Williamsburg to the Lower East Side in Manhattan and the East Village.

The point I am trying to make with the paragraph above is that Dickchicken is slowly becoming the less talented and only slightly less marketable Banksy. There already are numerous flikr pages and websites devoted to this vulgar splendor, something that I thought no one knew about. With a little refinement and branching out, I am fairly sure fame could come easily. I mean, we all like graffitti artists right? Just bringing your attention the next ridiculous big thing. You're welcome.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

When Wings Take Dreams!!!

As all 6 of our readers may be familiar with, there has been some real peer pressure for Harvey's Mom to ride the mechanical bull at Mason Dixon. I am here to tell you that with liquid courage and your friends by your side, all ridiculous ambitions can be realized!!

Harvey's Mom rode that bull in a tube dress valiantly, using those leg muscles to stay on that bucking bronco for a pretty decent amnount of time. The whole thing was very Luke Perry in "8 Seconds", or so I remember it when I watched it one 5 in the morning drunk on Cinemax. Your humble narrator also rode that bull! However, after harassing prior riders for technique, it took me about 15 minutes to get on the damn thing. But, it took me 1 second to fall off.

There are pics from the event, and as soon as we are capable of learning photoshop to have an lol cat in the place of our face, we will bring them to you! For now, please enjoy the 8 Seconds trailer I have provided. It was fairly similiar.

Editor's Note: This morning I was having computer trouble and had to call the IT people. They went on my desktop and saw my pics that we post on the site. All at once I heard silence on the other side of the line, then uproarious laughter, then was asked " Why do you have so many pictures of Damn Yankees on your desktop?" Don't ever say I wasn't dedicated.

Monday, June 15, 2009

This Week's Weekend Douche Brought To You By....Monster Squad!!!

This week's sponsor is the 1980s movie "Monster Squad." Normally I would babble on and on about why it was picked, but I think the art of this film speaks for itself. Not to mention, that when I was 4 I wanted to BE in the Monster Squad, mostly for that 13 year old sexy rebel kid who is everything. Recently I watched this movie and have to be honest, that kid is still a piece!

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest - Week of 6/15/09

Please leave your captions in the comments. The winner will be announced 6/19/09.

Got any pic suggestions for the caption contest? Send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

Salvia trips, for your amusement: Gawker

Pete Doherty, the picture of class and sophistication: Dlisted

Blind Item! Which Real Housewife is also a Weekend Douche? (Maybe a better blind item would've been, which isn't?): CDAN

Ashlee Simpson, we didn't know you were one of us! Welcome to the club: Page Six

It seems like science is dead set on ruining your douchey behaviors: Jezebel

Any douche news catch your eye? Send the juice to weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Caption Contest Winner!

And the winner is...

"Excuse me, Miss, could you tell me where all the junior high girls hang out?"

Styxisthebomb, we loved your comment only slightly less than we loved your moniker. Well done! And, as always, thanks to everyone who submitted captions.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

When One Door Closes, A Dallas BBQ Opens

Once upon a time, there was a Dallas BBQ located on University Place by NYU that your editors frequented. In the front of this particular establishment was a gigantic sign that stated that this BBQ was not affiliated with the others. Haters. You could get a Texas size strawberry pina colada here for $4 along with a side of wings and corn bread, with also catching one of your friend’s cheating on their girlfriend. Then, like real pieces of shit, they closed this magic fountain of a restaurant. All hope was lost….

Until we found that a new Dallas BBQ has been opened on 8th Street in the East Village! Though already drunk, Harvey’s Mom, Nora and I just had to stop in, have a drink, and get a taste of the new watering hole. Well, let me tell you, it is exactly the same! We were greeted by one of our favorite servers at another of our haunts, who told us that BBQ now shares the same management. Be still our hearts! We savored the new and improved Texas size drinks, some macaroni and cheese, and some pulled pork while also almost getting into an altercation with several elderly butch lesbians. But that couldn’t get us down!

If you are in the area and feel like a cool down, or frankly, are in Phoenix and need a weekend away, your Editors are going to have to give two thumbs up, even though the food is shit and you will likely be seriously ill afterward! Tell them we sent you, they will have no idea who you mean until you mention the three creeps taking pictures of unknowing families inside, forcing them to call the authorities….

The Moment No One Was Waiting For

This is a friendly reminder that tomorrow we will be announcing this week's caption contest winner. Please keep submitting, it can only please us more when we once again get to deny Number797979 the crown of this week's winning commenter. P.S. If you win, maybe, just maybe, we will give you a cassette single of " High Enough" by Damn Yankees that one of our Editors still has at their parent's house. Tempting isn't it?

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Spotlight On....MATE!!!!

There is a point in all writers’ careers where they have to make a decision to either write the truth and face the repercussions (the possibility of a defamation or slander lawsuit) or cower in the face of possible brilliance. Much like “Degrassi: The Next Generation”, we will go there!!
This is a new installment series where we will focus on one particular douche of the moment, and really concentrate on exploring how much of a douche this person can be. Plus every story involves alcohol, but of course. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, so we will refer to our first spotlight douche strictly as “Mate”, since he would strictly refer to his friends as this, though he was from New Jersey. I love Australian affectations, don’t you?

This first story goes back in the day, New York 2004 ( imagine a little Foxy Brown playing in the background for mood setting). Mate and his friend The Captain had a falling out over some money lent to Mate. After the money was exchanged to prevent Mate from getting into bigger trouble with a Columbia drug cartel or to buy school books, whichever, Mate just stopped speaking to the Captain. The Captain was pretty pissed, as he had been told several times by this charming rogue that he was Mate’s best mate! A true bromance.

To add insult to injury, Mate broke into The Captain’s apartment with a metro-card ( dorm living, the high life), drank all his Svedka vodka, filled it with water and spit in it, putting it back into the freezer thinking none would be the wiser. Oh Mate, you goddamn fool, alcohol doesn’t freeze! Upon The Captain’s discovery of this alteration to his $10 vodka, he determined there was only one person in the pre-med program that could come close enough to suffering from autism to make this mistake: MATE!!
He needed to find out for sure if the transgression was committed by Mate, before he opened a can of whoop ass like you never did see. He would get to Vladimir, Mate’s bestest mate, and get him to talk. This of course involved 2 minutes of threatened spanking, and Vladimir sung like a canary, ratting out his friend and once again proving you cannot trust anyone from Hungary, along with the fact they will stand too close to you at all times. Mate and The Captain never spoke again, except for when The Captain later tried to hump Mate’s ex-girlfriend on a garbage can, but that is another story for another day.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Corporate Retreat

I wanted to fill you guys in on a few of the details that Burt left out of the Team Building Exercise 1999 essay. Firstly can I mention that our rental car was a PT Cruiser? Nothing but the best for your editors. As Nora and Harvey's Mom boozed it up in the back seat, I drove and Burt was my navigator. It turned out to be the foggiest day in New York in the last 62 years, making the driving a bit scary at times (by the way I have no evidence to substantiate that claim, but work with me, I'm trying to set the mood). When we finally arrived at the douche motel, we were ready to party, meaning have some Chinese food and watch tv.

In all honesty, the weekend turned out to be less about planning and strategies for the site, and more just straight up market research. We wanted to make sure we were fully in touch with our audience, so we tried to be the best weekend douches we could be ... and succeeded!

I'd like to point out the highlight of the weekend for me: the drunken Trivial Pursuit game. I decided we should have team names. Without missing a BEAT, Harvey's Mom suggested "The Baconators" for herself and Burt. Genius! I immediately felt intimidated, knowing I'd never be able to come up with anything to rival that level of wit, but soon suggested that Nora and I could be "Bebe's Kids," and so the epic battle began. We never actually finished the game, as there was barbecue to eat and a horrendous comedy special on television to watch, where we learned that our commenter "Dane Cook is the Worst Person in the World" is spot on with his/her moniker.

I also would like to point out the biggest regret of the weekend. While Burt was on the top bunk, yours truly was on the bottom bunk, and I MISSED the elegant dismount.

We rolled back into the city on Sunday afternoon, looking rough but feeling fine. We dropped off our rental car in Manhattan and headed back to Brooklyn with a sense of accomplishment and a renewed mission, to make this the best, most hilarious website on the internet. We will make it happen!!! Thanks for sticking with us so far, all 3 of you, we really appreciate it and will continue to try our best to bring the funny.

Team Building Exercises 1999

Two weekends ago, your editors went to South Hampton for a Weekend Douche Corporate Retreat. An aside point being that we are still negotiating the tax deductability of certain expenditures. The drive to the stay was somewhat clouded by the non-negotiability of the trifling bitch at Budget Rental who would not allow me to drive. Obviously the fates stepping in to help us avert certain disaster. Bob, instead, was our fearless navigator. Our other two editors sat in the backseat and swigged vodka. You expect this.

Once at our chateau le Douche, we engaged in numerous trust building exercises, immersed ourselves with new media power point presentations, and mostly engaged in around the clock binge drinking. ( I would like to point out that I slept on a top bunk, so you could imagine my surprise that I walked away without a broken ankle) There was even some drunk trivial pursuit played.

The point I am trying to make with this little recap is that we went out there for YOU, so that we could bring you top-notch quality content each and everyday, How very selfless of us to travel all the way to the Hamptons, a luxury beach town, in order to remove ourselves from the numerous distractions of our shainty apartments in Brooklyn, in order to better brainstorm for YOU. Pure loyalty. Though our desire to give you what you need is subtle, it will haunt your dreams.

F.Y.I Above the post are action pics. from our trip. That's me, doing a trust fall! And then there is all of us, performing a trust balance. Safety First! For an exclusive list of all team building exercises performed, please visit http://www.wilderdom.com/games/TrustActivities.html

Monday, June 8, 2009

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest - Week of 6/8/09

Please leave your caption suggestion in the comments. The winner will be announced 6/12/09.

Ask Me About My Chicken Parm Hero

The following drunken text was submitted by an anonymous reader located in Northern Jersey.

As a response to a friend's text asking about her night so far, our reader wrote:

" Did I tell you about the chicken parm hero I had from that place over there?"

So very random and hilarious. Thanks much!!! Please send any drunken texts received or sent to weekenddouche@gmail.com

This Week's Weekend Douche Brought To You By ... Chance Operations!!!

Normally the Weekend Douche weekly sponsor is chosen after a roundtable of our editors, but tonight I was struck by artistic inspiration also known as heart burn, which has rendered me incapable of sleep, so I figured I would do some light writing. In honor of our editor Harvey's Mom, who wil soon be embarking on a trip to Paris, as our first European correspondant, Chance Operations will be our sponsor. Chance Operations is very "Sprockets" from SNL, involving a word stated and then people flailing about. The whole thing seems very German.

Of particular note is that Harvey's Mom once performed a Chance Operations routine to Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out", the video of which I have still be unable to get a hold of. When it becomes available, best believe that shit will be our sponsor. FOREVER!

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

More Than A Douche To Me

This submission to Drunk Logic comes from Lynn in San Diego. We love some California Love!

Upon sitting in the backseat while drunk and hearing "More Than A Woman" by the Bee Gees come on, Lynn shouted to the frnt seat driver:
" You know, I don't really like the B.Js, but I really love this song!"

Lynn and friends, you guys are hilarous! ( said in Paul Rudd voice from "The 40 Year Old Virgin".

Please send any hilarious drunken musings to weekenddouche@gmail.com

Editor's Note: A reader asked if I meant to originally make every word of the above post clickable, or if that was a mistake. I would like to say that Yes, I did intend it, since every word relating to the Bee Gees is of the above most importance. Smart Ass.

This Week's Weekend Douche Brought To You By ... Friendly's!!!

This week's Weekend Douche is Brought to you by Friendly's!!! If you don't like Friendly's, you also likely dislike America and baby Jesus. As you all know, this past weekend was the Weekend Douche Corporate Retreat in South Hampton. Particular details of the trip are to come, involving specifics about our team building exercises 2009 and trust games. I will take the time out to tell you that our final meal occured at Friendly's on location whose service was not actually that terrible, displacing the myth that all Friendly's waitresses will quit in the middle of waiting on you. ( this happened to me once, I was stuck there for 4 hours) I will also mention that no one partook in the dysentary breakfast bar, which was a major relief, since there was several incidents of people almost vomiting from hangovers.