Weekend Douche

This Week's Weekend Douche Is Brought To You By...The Bold and The Beautiful!!!

2009-07-22T07:41:00.000-07:00

Let's be totally honest with ourselves, soap operas are totally up our alley! I had never watched one, aside from the always plot sophisticated random telenovella, until Bob Wiley suggested "The Bold and the Beautiful". Frankly, it changed my life. B&B, the masterpiece, revolves around two rival fashion houses. To be expected, every character had married each other 50 times. But, due to subject matter, as a special treat, there are fashion shows that are a cross between a 1991 John Paul Gaultier show and your current Joyce Leslie summer line. This show is everything.

Who's The Douche Now?

2009-07-15T14:20:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I woke up at 8:30 in the morning extremely hungover and immediately started throwing up. After nursing my sickness and watching 2 previously taped episodes of "The Bold and the Beautiful", I left to begin my quest to buy sports bras for the gym. I know you are thinking, how does this bitch have the nerve to exercise with all the degenerate behaviour she partakes in? Umm, I don't exercise, but I just joined the gym and before I could start not going, I needed the proper equipment.

Anyway, I headed down Broadway to the Filene's Basement. Upon entering, I noticed there were no sports bras to be found. My head pounding and vomit on my shirt, I waltzed up to a saleswoman and asked for her help. She said they didn't carry any, but the Danskin store on Broadway did. It was at this point I looked her in the face and said " And where is Broadway from here?" to which she responded "Ohhh, you are a tourist! You are on Broadway!" This is my 8th year here and I am obviously becoming more and more of a douche as the years go by.

P.S The Danskin store charged me about $50 for those sports bras. My life is shit.

Can You Run In Those Shoes?

2009-07-10T07:42:00.000-07:00

This story comes from a dear friend of mine located in New York, New York. She would like to be known Spaghetti Cat. Okay, I want her to be known as Spaghetti Cat. The story comes from her college years. Awat we go! Warning: some might find this content objectionable. Remember, we don't condone it..

Senior year in college, I went to a pre-game at my friends' apartment. I noticed there were several very young women present and the whole thing felt very Roman Polanski. I was told that my male friends had met them outside one of the freshmen dorms and invited them to a party. I liked the girls and suggested that they leave before things turned ugly. No one headed the warning.

While being sexually harassed by one of my drunken friends, I zoomed in on a freshman girl who was an exact 300 pound doppelganger for Hatchet Face from the movie “Cry Baby” speaking to my particularly classy friend. I rushed over, but was stopped by my walking STD friend who suggested we take a shot. Since I bordered on alcoholism, I figured why not. Next, I had a touching conversation with my friend, where he referred to me strictly as "Sweet Tits" This, of course, was a clever means of distracting the only feminist in the apartment so my other friend could bring Hatchet Face into the bathroom and have sex with her.

As the two exited the bathroom, Hatchet Face skipped towards me, filling her shot glass with Southern Comfort, turning to me to say "I was so worried that when I left for college I would never meet anyone. But it is only my first week here and I have already met you guys, who remind me exactly of my friends from home!” I swigged my drink, trying to ignore the awkward delusion that I just encountered.

Thirty minutes later, the boys were ready to close up shop and head to the bars where the magic happened. Fake i.d. from 6th Avenue City baby! As the doors were being locked, my friend approached, looked me straight in the face and asked “ Do you think you could run in those shoes?” I looked down at my 3 inch heels and answered “Umm, from the Heat yes, but I would care to avoid it. Why?” My friend pointed in the direction of Hatchet Face and responded “ Because we are going to have to run from that bitch right there!”, grabbing me, and literally dragged me down the street, full sprint. I was told not to look back, like a modern day Sodom and Gomora.

S.C, who loves you baby?!Your friends are true gentlemen and scholars! I imagine writing that story down will save you some money on the inevitable therapy that followed. Thanks for the submission! Please send all submissions to weekenddouche@gmail.com

Grub Street Covers BBQ Opening!

2009-07-09T09:29:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago New York Mag covered the re-opening of the BBQ by NYU. The article goes on to point out the non-affiliation of this particular establishment with the other Dalls BBQs and seems to imply that no one knows the underlying reason cough cough drug trafficking and lower margarita prices cough. No, we are just kidding! Anyhow, there is a link below for the actual story. BBQ looks GLORIOUS in the post. Not to mention, that pic. looks very similiar to the one we used in one of our posts. New York mag, we will be monitoring you. Don't think you can just steal our incredibly classy and sophisticated posts on our watch!

http://nymag.com/daily/food/2009/03/bbq_not_dallas_bbq_will_reopen.html

The Circus Is In Town

2009-07-07T09:02:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of CNN.com

So apparently they are going to open up that can of crazy and bring Michael Jackson's dead body to the Staples Center in L.A. Is it just us over here, or does it seem somewhat strange that they are televising the whole thing and there will be livestreams from so many networks? I guess when Princess Diana went, there wasn't as much access to this type of thing but this just seems a little much. May he rest in peace

Kids Say The Darndest Things

2009-07-07T06:35:00.000-07:00

I was hung over on the train the other morning ( naturally, since it was a day that ends in “y”) listening to some Peter Cetera on my Ipod when this 15 year old girl stood up. She walked to the center of the train car and said the following:

“ Good morning ladies and gentlemen. My name is Tanya. I am 15 years old and a student. I am not homeless and I do not steal. I do have a job but what I do not have is a piece of gum. Please ladies and gentlemen, if you could find it in your heart to give me a piece of gum, I would be forever greatful! Even if you give me nothing, God bless you!”

This could have been one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life and NO ONE laughed! Was the microphone on? I bet if she smashed a watermelon with a sledgehammer they would laugh, clearly they lack taste. And you know I looked for a piece of gum for Tanya….

Editor’s Note: How come what is going on in the picture above has never happened to me? Where the hell are the ladies in the skimpy outfits handing out Snackwells when I ride the damn train?

Stay Wilder Than The Wind Brooklyn

2009-07-02T11:49:00.000-07:00

http://www.brooklynbowl.com/

And here we were worried that when we left, the douche quotient would lessen. Hipsters bowling, all that needs to be said.

C'Mon Ride The Train

2009-07-02T09:51:00.000-07:00

I know we said there would be no more posts because of the move blah blah blah, but one of my friends at work ( yes I have friends other than the Editors here and I also have a job miraculously, regardless of how often I view Casual Encounters on craigslist) and he told me this hilarious story and I couldn't deal with it!

My friend, Anthony is a Chelsea queen type gay guy. You know, extremely well dressed, doesn't eat, lives in the Upper West Side. Anyway, he was telling me how in the late 90s, he decided he wanted to be in a "scene". He had always been higly conservative, and just wanted to really involve himself in something. Sooo, the obvious lifestyle choice was to become very interested in 90s dance music. He already had a hard on for C&C Music Factory and it was the advent of KTU, so it was easy access. You are thinking, Burt, this is so goddamn typical, give me something. Shhh my young padione, it is coming...

So he buys tickets to this huge dance concert that was held at Webster Hall. Picture it, it is 1997. The concert has big names such as La Bouche and the Quad City Djs. Naturally, you also want to know if Crush who sang "Jellyhead" was there. The answer is YES!!! Anthony is at the concert, minding his own business, swaying to "C'Mon Ride The Train" when all of a sudden, some drunken 16 year old girl starts flailing about next to him. Well, my friend being the prick he is, he refused to move an inch. This bitch would not steal his thunder! He stood his ground and was consequently smashed in the face by the girl's fist, almost knocking him unconscious.

It was at this point that my friend looked the girl in the face teary eyed and said " You motherless twat, who raised you!" and stormed out of the venue. The next day he had a black eye. Much like a domestic violence sufferer, he lied and said he got the damage from falling. But we know better. He has yet to ever go to another concert and may or may not be a functioning alcoholic at this point. Oh yeah, and he is still gay.

Editor's Note: I am fairly sure this is live footage from the concert he attended. That is him, 1:24 in!!!!

Stick With Us, We Are Getting There!

2009-07-02T06:09:00.000-07:00

You all know what a bitch moving is, so please stand by while we attempt to sort out the bullshit that is the process. For example, I am fairly certain i will never have a bed and will forever sleep on a mattress on the floor. I am also fairly sure there will be boxes in the kitchen for a good 6 months. Hopefully we will get our security deposits back from our old places, one can never know!! Anyhow, next week we will bring you hard hitting drunk citizen journalism at it's best.

Seriously OMG Moving is TEH AWESOMENESS

2009-06-30T07:23:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2009-06-30T07:10:00.000-07:00

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....

R.I.P Michael Jackson

2009-06-26T11:16:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-06-24T11:12:00.000-07:00

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".

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

2009-06-23T06:08:00.000-07:00

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!

Fun With Ernie Part 2

2009-06-22T06:34:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2009-06-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

Word on the street: there's a toilet broken in Bangladesh.

2009-06-19T21:44:00.000-07:00

Harvey's Mom just threw a plastic cup at Nora. Venting.

Liveblogging

2009-06-19T21:36:00.000-07:00

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

The Ultimate Weekend Douche is Back

2009-06-19T18:30:00.000-07:00

(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!

2009-06-19T12:28:00.000-07:00

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!

2009-06-19T07:58:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-19T07:18:00.000-07:00

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.

Drunk Logic: AH DO NOT SELL MAH PUSSAY FOR MONEH!

2009-06-18T09:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-18T09:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Respectfully,

Harvey's Mom
Weekend Douche Editor

Fun With Ernie Part 1

2009-06-18T07:28:00.000-07:00

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

Dickchicken-The New Banksy?

2009-06-17T07:01:00.000-07:00

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.

When Wings Take Dreams!!!

2009-06-16T06:58:00.001-07:00

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.

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

2009-06-15T09:50:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-15T07:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-06-12T05:53:00.000-07:00

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!

2009-06-12T05:49:00.000-07:00

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.

When One Door Closes, A Dallas BBQ Opens

2009-06-11T11:05:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

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?

Spotlight On....MATE!!!!

2009-06-10T11:44:00.000-07:00

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.

Corporate Retreat

2009-06-09T16:51:00.000-07:00

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

2009-06-09T10:17:00.001-07:00

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

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

2009-06-08T13:00:00.000-07:00

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

Ask Me About My Chicken Parm Hero

2009-06-08T00:43:00.001-07:00

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!!!

2009-06-08T00:36:00.000-07:00

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!

More Than A Douche To Me

2009-06-03T21:18:00.000-07:00

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!!!

2009-06-03T21:08:00.000-07:00

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.

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-05-29T11:51:00.000-07:00

We are still trying to decide on a Weekend Douche logo, but I'm thinking maybe a picture of Tom Sizemore might do it - Hollywood Rag

Janice Dickinson on Finland's Next Top Model - Socialite Life

I haven't seen the Real Housewives of New Jersey yet, but if this is the type of housewife they've got, I may have to check it out - Dlisted

Make sure you take the occasional day off from hitting the bottle - Sify News

Now where will you Upper West Siders get your hangover cure? - Gawker

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

Caption Contest Winner!

2009-05-29T11:44:00.001-07:00

And the winner is...

"Rosie didn't take it lying down when the Donald called her a vadge hound."

Congratulations Duckie, you have won this week's caption contest, along with the respect of the editors. Thanks to everyone who submitted captions!

The Moment No One Was Waiting For

2009-05-27T19:26:00.000-07:00

This is a friendly reminder that we will be announcing the winner of this week's caption contest on friday. I will be honest, when I read Duckie's comment I almost wet myself. Almost, simply because the catheter bag is fit pretty tight these days. Step up to the plate and give us something, we will love it! I leave you with the recipe for Pina Coladas. I refer you to the second ingredient which is NOT regular milk. Apparently only Pinas from Belize have real milk in them. Well, there and in the T.G.I.F on Route 17 in Woodridge, NJ. The jet setter I am, I was confused. Suck it lactose intolerance. Here I come Dallas BBQ!!!!

Live From the MoMa, it's My Friends Lack Class!

2009-05-27T19:17:00.001-07:00

So last night your humble narrator attended the MoMA Party in the Garden, an event of all events. I know what you are thinking: how the hell did this hot mess get in and who the hell do I need to blow to get in next year? Well, you can just forget me inviting you next year to both the party and the after-party, which will be held at The Patriot in downtown Manhattan. Or, that is where I am having my party in the garden if you know what I am saying saying.

Anyhow, Uncle Jesse Katsopolis, our resident Greek Adonis, was at it again. This time he double fisted pomegranate martinis (Uncle Jesse doesn’t drink the cheap shit. EVER. It is only Andre champagne for this epitome of sophistication and elegance.) all night awaiting the performance of Estelle. After going outside to get my annoying, constantly late friend, I made my way to the front of the stage where Uncle Jesse was. It was at this point I heard “HEY GRRRL!!!” yelled at me and watched as Uncle Jesse hoisted himself on to a piece of stage apparatus and begun to hang off a pole. Meanwhile, his pomegranate martini sprayed the crowd. Disgusted by his movements being minimized by this glass, Uncle Jesse threw the glass on the ground, shattering it into pieces, likely injuring several people.

As he collapsed from the self-made sex podium, he attempted to dance up on a girl in the crowd who looked like she was about to cut his ass. It was at this point that Uncle Jesse was made to leave. Seven people strong, we carried the Greek’s drunken ass outside, where he refused to go home, lit a cigarette and attempted to go back into the MoMA. Oh, Uncle Jesse. You can be a drunk-ass bitch, but NO ONE smokes in the MoMA. It was at this point that security was called to restrain the Greek in his corner until a cab was stopped and he was loaded in and sent back to Jersey.

Don't all really amazingly trashy nights involve someone being sent back to Jersey?

Beer, Beer, Beer

2009-05-27T17:49:00.000-07:00

I was dicking around on youtube and saw this video, it's basically a compilation of Weekend Douches at their finest. Plus, the soundtrack is killer. Enjoy!

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

2009-05-26T08:29:00.000-07:00

Schneider from the hit 1970s sitcom "One Day at a Time" is a weekend douche if there ever was one. He was the superintendent of an apartment building in Indianapolis but basically spent all his time downing six-packs and dropping in on a sexually-liberated divorcee and her 2 foxy teenage daughters. He was a sweetheart but also a shameless flirt and master of the art of the double entendre. (You could cut the sexual tension between him and Ms. Romano with a knife, AM I RIGHT?!?!)

"One Day at a Time" also features one of the all-time best TV theme songs. I know all your asses are dragging after a three-day weekend of hard living, so consider this my gift to you, to help get you moving:

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest - Week of 5/26/09

2009-05-26T05:41:00.000-07:00

Please leave your caption suggestions in the comments. The winner will be announced 5/29/09.

Got any pic suggestions? Send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Programming Note

2009-05-22T11:00:00.000-07:00

Weekend Douches rejoice, Memorial Day is upon us! Your editors will be off douching it up over this 3-day weekend, and we suggest you do the same. Don't worry, we'll be on and poppin' again on Tuesday, and will be sure to fill you in on any hilarious/embarrassing stories that happen along the way.

So go out and enjoy yourselves this weekend, and come Tuesday, send us your douchiest stories. Oh, and don't forget to bring a camera, we want pictures too! Send it all over to weekenddouche@gmail.com and we'll be your best friend.

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-05-22T04:30:00.000-07:00

Tara Reid, enough said - Dlisted

I suspect this woman is a Weekend Douche - NY Daily News

Cigarettes, coffee, and alcohol ... a balanced diet? - Gawker

A documentary is being made about Amy Winehouse. I'm terrified - People

Bahrain lawmakers are trying to limit Weekend Douchedom - FOX News

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

Caption Contest Winner!

2009-05-22T04:00:00.000-07:00

And the winner is...

"After my paraplegic boyfriend has a few drinks, he makes me call him DJ Jazzy Jeff."

Congratulations to The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You, and thanks to everyone who submitted captions. In honor of just how much I love that moniker, please take the time to enjoy this video. You're welcome guys!

The Moment No One Was Waiting For

2009-05-21T06:36:00.000-07:00

This is a friendly reminder that tomorrow we will be announcing the winner of our weekly caption contest. Upon a quick scan of the competition, I think it would only be fair of me to mention that you should all gun for Fanny Pack. Weekend at Bernie's isn't bringing the heat this week, so you could be an overnight celebrity with the upset!! Polls close tomorrow morning, show us what you got.

Eurodouche

2009-05-20T05:42:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday marked the 54th annual Eurovision song competition, this year's pageant taking place in Moscow. Each nation puts forward a contestant or group to sing and dance their way to patriotic glory, and the entries are generally, to put it mildly, ridiculous.

It's a European tradition to celebrate Eurovision by hosting parties and drinking heavily, and we received the following submission from Dr. Dolly in Glasgow, Scotland, UK:

"My eurovision party was excellent. I drank too many ouzo shots and passed out at midnight after throwing up in a bucket. I was also wearing the flags of europe on my head and accross my breasts. The next morning i found my greek office mate in his underwear in my kitchen. Apparently after my midnight exit he and my flatmate did the nasty....bet ur sorry u missed it."

Thanks Dr. Dolly! You are our first international submission. It is a big, drunk world out there. International douches, send us your stories! America needs to know how you roll!

For those of you who just need to know more about Eurovision, check out my alter ego, Katie Price's, entry into the British Eurovision semifinals in 2005. To answer your questions, yes, she is wearing a Barbie pink PVC catsuit and yes, she is pregnant.

The Porcelain God Speaks To You

2009-05-19T07:02:00.000-07:00

This pic. is a submission from a reader who saw this piece of class in a bathroom in the East Village in NYC. The thing I like most about this little bathroom statement is the sense of fairness. It is saying "Hey act like a douche, pay for it douche!" Thanks for the submission!

Please send all submissions to weekenddouche@gmail.com. Eye on the prize, one year anniversary party at Chevy's in Times Square!!!!

Morning Douche

2009-05-19T06:47:00.000-07:00

I think our readers are well aware of my ill-advised love for San Loco, and the fact that every time we go at 3am LGMBB has to talk me out of getting a round of sangria for everyone in the house. Turns out they are now offering breakfast and brunch. Man, I could really go for the chorizo quesadilla right about now...

Anyway, I snapped this very high quality photo of their breakfast menu, also known as your morning invitation to bulimia. I'm pretty sure that the dish "Hot Mess" is named after me. I feel like I heard the cashier say it once or twice when I was holding onto the counter for dear life waiting for my burrito loco.

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

2009-05-18T09:24:00.001-07:00

Connery: I'll take the rapists for $200.
Trebek: That's "therapists" Mr. Connery.

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest. Week of 5/18/09

2009-05-18T09:17:00.001-07:00

Please leave your caption suggestions in the comments. The winner will be announced 5/22/09.

And yes, that is indeed a Jazzy outside of the classiest bar on 2nd Avenue. You might want this pic. for your wedding montage, so don't worry about the copyright, just feel free!

It's Chocolate, It's Peppermint ... It's Delicious!

2009-05-15T11:32:00.000-07:00

The following text conversation was submitted to us by Jen B. of Clinton Hill, Brooklyn:

"I just drank fiive margaritas, wana come over and watch a movie?"
"Sounds great, ill bring junior mints"

Hope you guys enjoyed the movie, and thanks for the submission!

Sent or received any hilarious drunken texts? Please send them our way! We hope you know by now, it's weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Those Who Cannot Do Teach

2009-05-15T11:07:00.000-07:00

It is with great sadness that I inform all seven of our faithful readers that I will no longer be able to go to Dallas BBQ. I have been sick for a couple of weeks and yesterday I went to the allergist, at which point he said something so perverse, I almost slapped him in the face: I am lactose intolerant. As I have suffered for my art for years, courageously drinking strawberry pina coladas with extra shots for material to share with you, I can no longer handle the pain. Last night I went to Dallas BBQ to say my goodbye and had three texas size pina coladas with extra shots, which was then followed by the splitting of a double bottle of wine with Nora Diniro, which was then followed by a dance party, but THAT ISN'T THE POINT. What your humble narrator is trying to say is, Dallas BBQ you will be missed!!!!! I am and will remain inconsolable. Cue the "Rainbow Connection" from the Muppets.

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-05-15T10:33:00.000-07:00

Sure George, it was the guy next to you - Gatecrasher

If you're a Weekend Douche and also an asshole, this might be a good place to go to college - Gawker

Janice Dickinson drunkenly attacks a cameraman - Dlisted

A competition that seems to be specifically designed for Weekend Douches - Jezebel

I want to go to there - Dlisted

It's just Lindsay being Lindsay - Perez Hilton

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

Caption Contest Winner!

2009-05-15T05:52:00.000-07:00

And the winner is ...

"Where'd they learn to do that?"

"I don't know. Kids are doing it in their basements back home. Wanna try it?"

I Carried a Watermelon, you are a genius. Congratulations to you, and thanks to everyone who submitted captions.

For anyone who doesn't understand the reference, head on over to You Tube and enjoy this clip:

Dirty Dancing - Staff Party

The Moment No One Was Waiting For

2009-05-14T09:45:00.000-07:00

This is a friendly reminder that tomorrow the winner of this week's Caption Contest will be revealed. We had a ton of submissions this week but there is still time for you to add something! I know you have it in you! In fact anything involving a misspelling from a cat would be sufficient.

If You Like Pina Coladas, and Getting Caught in the Snow

2009-05-14T05:15:00.000-07:00

This is a Christmas Story, late-90s style. My mom's husband got shitfaced off her famous Christmas Pina Coladas (for whatever reason, she only makes this frozen delight on December 25th and no other day of the year). He went to take some garbage out, which was kind of a far walk, and left without his shoes on. He walked the entire way through the snow just in his socks. I howled with glee. The funniest part was that he still didn't realize it when he got back, even though his socks were soaked with snow and dirt, and could not understand what I was laughing about. This may seem minor, but to this stepchild, it was a Christmas miracle.

What Would John Wayne Do?

2009-05-13T08:47:00.000-07:00

This installment of drunk logic was sent to us by Jesse from Brooklyn, New York (Park Slope in this bitch!) :

About two years ago, I was out drinking one night with one of my more alcohol interested friends waiting for one of my co-workers to meet up with us. While waiting, my friend had consumed a huge amount of alcohol. After my co-worker texted he was around the corner, I decided to let my friend know that this person did not drink, to which my friend responded "John Wayne said not to trust people who don't drink. I may not be John Wayne since I am Asian, but I am with him."

Thanks Jesse for the submission! It was fantastic.

Heard anyone say anything completely ridiculous while drunk, or have you been the one to supply the witticism? Please send any submissions of Drunk Logic to weekenddouche@gmail.com.

What I Learned in Jail Last Night

2009-05-13T06:28:00.000-07:00

This is an oldie but a goodie. It's the story of former Gawker editor Sheila McClear getting arrested and spending the night in jail for drinking a beer out of a paper bag on the subway. Let this be a cautionary tale for all you Weekend Douches out there:

What I Learned in Jail Last Night - Gawker

Drunk Logic - I Married a Tank

2009-05-12T06:00:00.000-07:00

This submission comes to us from Michelle W. from I'm In Parentheses.

Upon my drunken husband's realization I would be furious with him when I found out he yakked on my best friend's brand new white carpet-- "Michelle's gonna have me committed. Thank God I didn't do this at her sister's. She would have called the police".

Thanks Michelle for your submission, and everyone check out her blog!

Here's To The Nights We Felt Alive: A Vignette

2009-05-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

On the walk home from the J-train this weekend, Harvey’s Mom and I, while drunk, were discussing the legitimacy of Suri Cruise. I, for one, think Suri is Tom Cruise’s baby, whereas H&M believes she is the child of Chris Klein. After about 5 blocks of deep thoughts, we pulled over so I could finish my cigarette and we could say our goodbyes. At this moment, a gentlemen who would be known only as “Timmy” crossed our path asking me for a cigarette. H&M asked him his opinion on the Suri Cruise situation, to which he replied “ I don’t care about that shit.” She then stated that it was a sociological question, to which he responded “well when you put it that way, when I was in L.A. I knew a guy who….” (We can’t tell you what he said, we could get sued for defamation! I will say it involved a bottle of KY, some duct tape, a Peabo Bryon CD, and a Dixon Ticonderoga pencil. JOKE.)

He then told us he was leaving to go home and had been recording all day and night with his band, which were pretty popular. He then mumbled the name. About 5 minutes later, after he gave us his business card, I responded that I would have to friend him on facebook to get all the info on “Fuck Irish Companion,” his band. At this point, he almost fell over laughing for a good ten minutes. Apparently the name of the band was not “Fuck Irish Companion,” but I have since been promised that their name will be changed to this considerably better and smarter moniker. The point of this story being that sometimes in life we hear what we want to hear. I apparently liked the idea of a racist band which excluded friendships with Northern Europeans. Maybe even excluding all road trips with gingers. I can’t be sure. I will finish by saying that you should keep your eye out for their headlining Coachella next year. That name is going to make them stars. Big, bright, shining stars!

P.S. - Would you trust this sick son of a bitch in the picture above in your car, alone with you, driving late night through some weird place in Canada? That’s what I thought.

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest - Week of 5/11/09

2009-05-11T05:42:00.000-07:00

Please leave your caption suggestions in the comments. The winner will be announced 5/15/09.

Got any pic suggestions? Send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Straight Costs $25

2009-05-08T11:31:00.000-07:00

This text dialogue comes from Jan from the Upper West Side a.k.a. Connecticut.

Text 1: "I can see the lights of your car. You are outside my neighbor's house fucko ... I can't go down the steps, you have to come get me"

30 seconds later....

Text 2: "Get your ass over here and ring my doorbell. What do I look like, some type of whore who runs to a car?"

Sent or received any hilarious drunken texts? Well then, we would love them. Please send all submissions to weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Project Douche

2009-05-08T11:25:00.000-07:00

I went to a birthday party for a friend that was held at the same place that Project Runway was having their post Bryant Park celebration. The Santino season. Prior to the party, I had been at one of those trashy Mexican places that doesn't card. If there is ever a fire at my apartment, I can be found there or the Dallas BBQ. To make a long story short, I was trashed already. I also had conjunctivitus, so I had to wear sunglasses at night. Ridiculous.

At the party, I keep getting drunker, until at one point, after having a sip of a jack and coke I realized that Diana, the small, unassuming asian girl from that season was trying to have a sexy party with me. This coming after I had sexually harassed Santino and told Daniel Franco that I had seen him the weekend earlier in the Lower East Side and that he BETTER stop following me. Once outside, I immediately start vomming into a trash can. My moment of greatness.

After about 15 minutes of pure elegance, I got a cab and went home. The obvious solution to being drunk is to eat and take a shower. I refer you to the burrito situation of St. Patty’s Day. This is my fucking m.o. My roomate made me an english muffin, which I brought into the bathroom with me (much like Dickens, I use symbolism) and I got in the shower.

I felt extremely heavy and became pretty convinced I was having a heart-attack and/or stroke. I swear I have 5 of each a day and yet I live! I started to panic and got out of the shower. Then I looked down. I actually went into the shower with my socks and a sweatshirt. My stupid ass felt heavy because I was toting 10 pounds of fabric up in that bitch. I then took these things off and went to sleep I woke up the next day with puke in my hair and the english muffin was still on its plate next to the toilet. It would grow accustomed to such luxury, and would stay there for a week.

Caption Contest Winner!

2009-05-08T06:13:00.000-07:00

And the winner is...

"A baseball player, a transsexual ballerina bunny, and a power bottom walk into a bar. No, there's no punchline, why do you ask?"

Never Gonna Give You Up, you are the winner of a $15 iTunes card! E-mail us and give us your mailing address, and we'll send it out to you ASAP. Purchase REO Speedwagon's greatest hits and listen in secret shame while thinking fondly of your Weekend Douche editors. Thanks to everyone who submitted captions!

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-05-08T05:56:00.000-07:00

The Hoff almost died of alcohol poisoning! I think Michael K sums it up best: "Normally, my advice would be, 'use, don't abuse,' but the Hoff needs to step away from the liquor cabinet completely. They aren't friends anymore. Have a Crystal Light instead." - Dlisted

The New York Times has a blog called "Proof: Alcohol and American Life." In "Proof," contributors "consider the charms, powers and dangers of drink, and the role it plays in their lives." That's kind of what we do too, but with considerably less class, and more derision. - New York Times

Amy Winehouse has been hospitalized. Amy, please see Michael K's advice to the Hoff, above. - Perez Hilton

Cool stuff made with beer cans! - City Rag

We may need to consider re-naming this site "Weekend Kiefer Sutherland." - E! Online

Can you test your blood alcohol level with your iPhone? - TMCnet

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

Gonna Spread My Wings, Sweet 26...Part II

2009-05-07T12:32:00.000-07:00

The stunning conclusion to Lil'Jimmy's 26th birthday party with the boys from T-fly...

On the walk to the strip club, we were all brimming with anticipation and jumping all over each other like little retard children off to the dairy farm. Milk! they yell. Funny how hanging out with your old middle school friends can devolve you right back into adolescence. We were cracking jokes without punchlines and laughing way too loud at them.

We got to the strip club and because I’m a Jew I informed the lady at the door that we were celebrating and could she help with the cover charge? I would be comped but my three friends would have to pay twenty each to get in. Inside it was couches and velour seating with hip-hop and techno music blasting and lights that flash red, blue and white sometimes. Girls on platforms dancing around poles, girls bouncing around in skimpy lingerie and talking to wide-eyed guys everywhere.

It was crowded, almost no space at any of the couches and the extremely large Doorman- Host had to help move a little guy with those arm-crutches to another area just so we could get good seats. Sorry dude. He would have killed the buzz anyway. Or made it more fun. I went to take a piss.

When I got back I saw that we were all beginning to sink into the pool of delusion so common in the strip clubs. Kyle was the first to go under, but at least he tried with a waitress rather than a stripper. I eased into my seat. The waitress Kyle was chatting with had huge tits in a black bustier. He was talking passionately about electronic music, and she seemed to be responding in a friendly way. She was far more beautiful than any of the strippers there – did he really think he could pull it off? He gave her his number and looked satisfied. “Dude now I feel like I can’t get any dances with her watching!” he exclaimed when she walked off to get our drinks. But he did get dances, many dances, and would glance around nervously after each one. Kyle looked over at me and told me again that he loves big asses in his face. I agreed with him. And I was stopping any creature with decent-sized natural breasts for a dance. I hate fake breasts, they are just awkward plastic orbs attached under a girl’s skin. Gross. Then this tall stripper Danielle with ridiculously huge fake breasts sat next to me. I told her we were there for my birthday and she was telling me about how she’s such a pothead and next week for her birthday she’s just going to get stoned. And I told her how I’m a stoner too. Which is a lie I quit two months ago. I told her I’m a writer of fiction and non-fiction, which is a lie this is the first thing I’ve written in over a year. “I love non-fiction!” she said excitedly, “I love Hemingway,” she continued and I could not stop laughing. But Danielle asked if I’d buy her a redbull and hell, why not? So she was still sitting with me when I saw Leo go down.

Leo disappeared with a petite skinny stripper with long blonde hair and tiny breasts. Did he purchase a hand-job in the back? Oh wait, there he was the bar, buying her drinks. He would eventually get just five minutes of dances from her and walked out broke at the end of the night. “Two hundred bucks dude, she got it all!” he said and showed us the empty wallet. “I asked her for her number and she said it would be prostitution!” He was flailing his arms madly. “She played me,” he said. Poor Leo.

And Ted, oh Ted. His final dance was with this large black woman with boobs so large and saggy her nipples were pointing to the floor. She writhed all over him for fifteen minutes and the whole time his face was in a state of ecstatic shock, for a total of eighty bucks. After she left he was saying “Dude she was so wet I could feel her through my jeans and she said Mind if I just get off on your leg?” And the guys were all impressed. “Dude, you could have fucked her!” Kyle said, pleased. I agreed with Kyle on this as well but I was thinking, is it a point of pride tonight that a woman would allow one of us to pay her for sex? My friends had all gotten drenched in that stagnant pool of pathetic stupidity, thinking somehow that they could get dates from these strippers. Idiots. I remember sitting with Danielle, with her stupid fake breasts while she said dumb things and I smiled at her. “So Danielle,” I had said, “you wanna go out sometime?”

The Moment No One Was Waiting For

2009-05-07T09:02:00.001-07:00

This is a friendly reminder that tomorrow we will be announcing the winner of this week's caption contest. The winner will be receiving a $15 itunes gift certificate, which may I say, is awesome. If I were to win, I think we all know I would try to use my certificate to get Disney's "Heavyweights" on my ipod. Imagine how much smoother my A train commute would be if Aaron Schwartz and Co. could take the journey with me.

Drunk Logic

2009-05-06T06:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, in the case of funny stories about drunk people, there isn't a long, drawn out tale of hilarity, but rather just a single sentence that comes out of a drunkard's mouth that is so absurd, so irrational, and so funny, it needs to be shared. Hence I submit to you something my mom said, or rather shouted at the top of her lungs, while dancing at her stepson's wedding, after about 2 bottles of wine:

"Everybody wants to BE me!!!" (This was followed by a solid 90 seconds of maniacal laughter.)

Heard any hilarious drunk logic? Send it to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Cinco de Mayo....the drunk's holiday!

2009-05-05T11:12:00.001-07:00

No one really knows why people celebrate Cinco de Mayo. Truth be told, I think St. Patrick's day just proved to not be enough. There is something about drunk bastards requesting extra shots of cuervo in their coconut margarita while wearing a sombrero that brings a smile to my face. If anyone wants us, we will be partying at the Caliente Cab Company in the West Village. We thought Chevy's might be too crowded and Dallas BBQ simply isn't seasonal enough. Happy May 5th!!!!

Without a Noise, Without My Pride, I Reach Out From the Inside ... In Your Eye

2009-05-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

This story comes to us from reader Bridget D.

Freshman year in college, my roommate was Danielle from Las Vegas who just did not stop partying. She was smart and a great person, but spent all her time at the frats. She smelled like Heineken and hooked up with the grossest pledgemaster she could find.

During rush, I got a call at 4 in the morning. It was a deep male voice that frantically said "Is this Bridget?" I responded "Yes, is someone in the hospital, what is going on?" The voice answered "Your friend Danielle is here and she can't see, you need to come get her. Your friend is fucked up, she can't walk straight." I was kind of insulted that he kept calling her my friend. Would you call Trishelle from the Real World your friend?

I ran in my pajama pants to the frat. There was Danielle. She was sitting on a lawn chair with a pool of vomit below her and her right eye was swollen shut. On the walk home, she kept repeating over and over "I couldn't see, don't judge me." I answered "Judge you for what? I'm not drunk, I can't speak this language." She then admitted that the reason she couldn't see was because she was having sex with one of the frat brothers, things got out of hand, and he ejaculated in her eye. The next day when she saw me she begged me not to tell anyone. This was five years ago. I have told everyone I have met since.

Thank you Bridget!!! This is one of the editors' favorites so far. We're putting it in our Weekend Douche Hall of Fame.

Got any good stories of drunken tomfoolery? Please send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Subway Stories

2009-05-05T05:58:00.000-07:00

So recently I was getting on the train to head back to Brooklyn after a wild night in Manhattan (of playing cards with my grandmother). It was about 9:00 PM on a Tuesday, and it was pouring raining. I see two visibly intoxicated dudes in their forties coming across the street approaching the subway. One of them is carrying a bucket of KFC's fried chicken, so naturally I was very jealous. Anyway, one of them says to the other "I think he called the 5-0!" (For those of you who aren't in the know and/or don't watch "The Wire," that means the police. You know, like Hawaii 5-0. Get it???) They both start running. As they're sprinting over the subway grating to get inside the station, one of them slips, goes what in my memory was about 7 feet in the air, and falls right on top of the bucket of chicken. Oh, sweet slapstick comedy. The funniest part of the story is that his friend was laughing hysterically, we're talking uncontrollable, violent laughter. I basically laughed like a maniac for about 5 stops myself, but my enjoyment was somewhat hampered by my concern over whether the fried chicken was OK.

Bar Graffiti

2009-05-04T12:31:00.000-07:00

Sent from a friend in the Lower East Side, behold the majesty and elegance that is the bathroom at "Welcome to the Johnson's." The toilet has eyes. The one time I used the bathroom at this place it was actually overflowing with urine. One would think that it must have been clogged or broken. NO, actually no one felt like flushing it. Ahh apathy, the hipsters in their natural habitat.

Seen any hilarious bar graffiti? Take out your camera phone, snap a pic, and send it to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com. Lord knows you have done worse things while going to the bathroom.

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest - Week of 5/4/09

2009-05-04T08:10:00.000-07:00

Please leave your caption suggestions in the comments. The winner will be announced 5/8/09.

Update: The winner of this week's Caption Contest will receive a $15 iTunes card, so bring the funny!

Got any pic suggestions? Send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

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

2009-05-04T07:57:00.000-07:00

This week's Weekend Douche is brought to you by Nelson. 1) I wanted to post one of their music videos, but apparently they don't allow the sexing up of one's website. Much like when I downloaded ZZ Top's "Legs," I would have been fine taking the risk of being sued for copyright infringement. 2) You all remember when Gunnar Nelson went on Celebrity Fit Club, wasn't even overweight and constantly told these completely fabricated stories about how his mom was emotionally abusive right? AMAZING.

Gonna Spread My Wings, Sweet 26...Part 1

2009-05-03T18:42:00.001-07:00

This is a two part submission from Lil' Jimmy from Tenafly, NJ.

Part I
So I turned 26 last week. I told my few friends that I wanted to go to dinner over this weekend to celebrate. My friend Kyle suggested that after dinner we patronize a gentleman’s club, a strip club establishment. We all agreed heartily that that was a fantastic idea.

Leo was late to dinner. Me, Kyle and Ted housed a massive plate of nachos and all stuffed ourselves with entrees we didn’t even need before Leo even got there. Leo ate while we sat there bored and gawking at a group of a dozen trashed and loud 40- year-old women apparently there to see the live band that was setting up. One actually rubbed her chest against the back of Kyle’s head and tussled his hair and sang “lalalalala” when she passed, to go the bathroom, I presume. We all laughed at her merriment but were grossed out. Ted had tried to order a pomegranate and mango margarita and frowned when he found he could only order a pomegranate or mango margarita, and frowned even worse at the end when he saw that each margarita had cost $10.

After dinner Leo insisted on showing us his awesome parking spot and his new ultra-fast electric-blue Volkswagen hatchback. Mind you, at 26 Leo is unemployed and lives with his parents in New Jersey so I found myself wondering why his parents would get him a car now. To encourage his continued unemployment? We were about to jump on the train downtown to hit a few bars before the strip club, but Leo noticed that the mini-van in front of him was turned on and about to pull out, opening up an even better spot. The mini-van had that familiar blue sticker in the back window with the little white stick figure sitting in a half-circle, indicating a handicap. A platform had extended from the side of the mini-van and was slowly lifting a woman in a wheelchair into the vehicle. “Aren’t my rims nice?” Leo asked through his open windows as his the engine roared to life and began purring.

“Yeah!” Ted exclaimed. Leo went on, “If I install the S-six chip for like six thousand dollars, I can beat Ferraris and Lamborghinis! Like three-point-four or three-point-seven!” I tried to think what these numbers meant. The mini-van hadn’t left yet, we all stood waiting on the sidewalk for Leo. He began vrooming his engines over and over as his patience dissolved. This continued for several minutes after the woman in the wheelchair had been loaded. I got worried so I bent my head down to Leo and said, “I think they’re handicapped, they might not be able to go any faster.”

The bars downtown were uneventful. As we began to walk up to the strip club, Ted revealed that he expected to have explosive diarrhea very soon. Everyone decided to piss. So we stopped in Cosi and walked nonchalantly to the back where there were two unisex bathrooms open. Ted and Kyle went in first. A girl came up to the back of the line and then another girl too. “Do you mind if I go ahead of you guys? I just need to wash my hands,” the girl on the end said. We all looked back at her. “We each have six beers at least in each of us,” Leo said. “So everyone needs to go pretty badly.” Just then Kyle left one bathroom and Leo took it. I tried to lighten the mood with “Trying to avoid the swine flu, are ya?” “Yes,” the girl said, “I try to avoid everything.” “Oh,” I responded. Ted came out of the other bathroom relieved and smiled at us.

Will Lil' Jimmy make it to the strip club? Stay tuned for the next installment!

Sharing the Laughter and Love

2009-05-01T12:21:00.001-07:00

Today we have a text message convo sent to us from Tom in New Jersey. This text message exchange occurred while his girlfriend was at Happy Hour.

Text from Tom: Happy 6 Month Anniversary :)

Text from GF: I came up with something special I wanted to say for this.

Text from Tom: Which is?

10 minutes go by then response

Text from GF: you and me, we gotta be the luckiest dreamers, we never stop dreaming.

Text from Tom: that is from Growing Pains

Text from GF: I couldn't date someone who didn't know that. P.S. Im drunkkk! Happy 6! ;)

Thanks for the exchange Tom, as always we greatly appreciate it.

Sent or received any hilarious drunken texts? Please send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Bar Graffiti

2009-05-01T07:46:00.001-07:00

Bar bathrooms tend to be, generally speaking, totally disgusting. The one pleasant thing about heading into one to pee or puke is the entertainment provided by the ridiculous, drunkenly-scrawled graffiti on the walls. We received this photo from an anonymous reader in Astoria, Queens, who apparently found this gem in an East Village dive bar bathroom.

I object to the assertion that Hall was a punk and have garnered some evidence to prove my point. Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this video, "You Make My Dreams Come True."

Seen any hilarious bar graffiti? Take out your camera phone, snap a pic, and send it to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com. It'll only take a second!!!

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-05-01T06:00:00.001-07:00

Umemployed? Look no further ... you can actually get paid to be a professional Weekend Douche: Gawker

Paula Abdul got duped by Bruno. Try to recover from the shock: Dlisted

Teens say Cinco de Mayo and alcohol don't mix. In other news, down is up and black is white: Union-Tribune

Swine Flu ... or Alcoholism?: Black Book Mag

Blind Item - See if you can guess the celebrity Weekend Douche: Crazy Days and Nights

The perfect cure for a hangover: Dlisted

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

Caption Contest Winner!

2009-05-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

And the winner is ...

"The next day, Paul really regretted putting 'You Can Leave Your Hat On' on the playlist for the office Christmas party."

Weekend At Bernie's, you're making quite the name for yourself here at Weekend Douche. Maybe one day you can guest edit the site! I'm sure with a screen name like that, you've got some great stories.

Thanks to all who submitted comments!

Also, enjoy this clip, inspired by this week's winner.

My First Time

2009-04-30T12:08:00.000-07:00

My first time was at a birthday party in 8th grade. I showed up at the party after having gone to see the movie "Howard Stern's Private Parts" and frankly I felt like a badass mother shut your mouth! We were drinking Boone's Farm or Mad Dog 20/20. I can tell you for sure I had a Newport or 2, thank Christ I couldn’t inhale Newark Airport’s finest.

To make a long story short, I was standing there in this girl’s backyard wearing an oversized Michigan Wolverines sweatshirt with Jenco jeans, singing along to “I’ll Be Missing You” by Puff Daddy, when all of a sudden I heard screaming and saw people running for their fucking lives. Having no Darwinian survival instinct, I ran into the house from where they were coming and realized that the host’s couch was on fire and none of the degenerate assholes was doing anything about it. Finally, one of the trashy, predatory high school sophomores who had been hitting on me a half an hour earlier put it out. He was both a gentleman and a scholar and we would later "go with each other" for 5 1/2 minutes.

About fifteen minutes later after "Backdraft," I shit you not, there was screaming again! I ran outside this time and as it turns out, the strange Turkish girl that no one liked had fallen through this girl’s trampoline, breaking it, hitting her ass against the concrete. To make it worse, apparently the fall had jostled something in her because bitch had peed herself and was refusing to stand up because people would see. Ahh the pure elegance of 8th grade.

Editor’s Note: In looking for this picture, I found out that there is an internet fan club for Boone’s Farm. Here’s the link, you know you have a testimonial or 7 to write:
http://www.boonesfarm.net/

Let Me Make This Statement Loud and Clear: Statty's Here!

2009-04-30T11:50:00.000-07:00

This story comes from Katherine from Staten Island, New York. Statty in the House!

"This past weekend my friends and I came into the City to go out for the night. After a couple of bars, we ended up at this NYU bar in the East Village because a girlfriend of mine had to use the restroom.

The basement, where the bathroom was located, looked exactly like a scene from 'Hostel.' It was wicked awful, lights were flickering, the floor was wet and people had on outfits from Strawberry. To make a long story short, some spiky haired asshole (from Long Island obvs) was guarding the men’s bathroom. I thought these kids were doing drugs, but all of a sudden I saw a small Asian kid who looked like a hedge-fund version of Data from 'The Goonies' run down the stairs yelling 'I gotta take a shit!!!! I can’t hold it anymore.' At this point, his spiky haired friend said 'Yo, I got this, the coast is clear, do it now, no one is in there!' and the kid responded with 'No fucking way, I don’t go in public. I got to go home to my house.' Data then stood drunkenly on the steps for ten minutes, waiting for someone to help him. It was at this moment I was so glad I took the advice of the drunken asshole outside who had looked me in the face and said 'this place is AWESOME!!!!!!'

Finally, Data ran up the steps holding his stomach, while his lady friends came out of the basement dancehall section being like 'Where’s he going? Charlieeeeee, where the hell is he going? He is too drunk, what happened, why is everyone outside the bathroom?' In Data’s defense, I wouldn’t have gone in that bathroom either. I would be scared Jigsaw or a rat might bite my ass in the middle, but man was it funny."

Thanks for the submission Katherine!

Please send any funny stories, pics, or drunk texts to weekenddouche@gmail.com.

The Moment No One Was Waiting For

2009-04-29T12:09:00.000-07:00

This is a friendly reminder that the winner of this week's caption contest will be announced on Friday. This week's winner will be rewarded with the gift of getting to read the first couple of pages of the trashy period piece harlequin novel Harvey's Mom has been working on. NYYRULEZ will you be a back to back douche? All will be revealed!

Subway Stories

2009-04-29T07:49:00.002-07:00

So I was taking the train home the other night when a mildly drunk woman in her 40s sat down next to me. Apparently she had a case of the sniffles, and decided to take off her hoodie and use it to blow her nose. (I'm not taking about using the sleeve, or the outer part, she opened it up and used the inside of it. Maybe the material was softer?) Well, about 2 minutes later, what with the air conditioning on the subway being on full-blast, I guess she got chilly. I think you know what happened next, bitch actually put the hoodie on.

See any drunk idiots on the subway? Been a drunk idiot on the subway? Send your stories and pics to weekenddouche@gmail.com.

One Facebook Group to Rule Them All

2009-04-28T10:18:00.001-07:00

The rumors are true! And by rumors, I mean what I am telling you right now. We have a facebook group! It is cleverly named Weekend Douche and you should totally join it. Because you like us and because we are nice. P.S. Mark Zuckerberg, I am sorry we lifted your logo above and do not have rights to it. Now you know what those busty 15 yr old girls drinking smirnoff lights in pics. must have felt like when you threatened to use their shit without permission. MARK, you creep.

Mystery Douche

2009-04-28T06:00:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I went to a professional networking event with Harvey's Mom and LGMBB, which would have been comedy without this douchy incident occurring. We had literally been there for 88 seconds after getting our first drink when a gentleman approached us. He was a little overly enthusiastic and one of those kids that is nice but just painful to talk to. However, my friends and myself are nice people so we let him engage us in conversation. After the usual five minutes of exchanging biographical info, he looked at myself and LGMBB and said "Have you guys ever heard of the friendship test?" Choking back laughter, I shook my head no. He said "Would you guys ever share tooth paste?" Through laughter, we both nodded yes. He said that we were true friends, not because we had the same answer but because we looked at each other before answering.

What this well meaning douche didn't realize is that LGMBB and I looked at each other because we watched the show "The Pickup Artist" and read the book "The Game," which is word for word where the friendship test came from, as a method for picking up women. Hopefully men will realize that women do sometimes read male-oriented material and that in fact, pulling a quarter out of our ear would be more impressive.

Editors Note- Two weeks later another line from "The Game" was used on Nora at a bar in the East Village. She is starting to think there is something about her that screams bumpkin.

Here's To The Nights We Felt Alive - A Vignette - Featuring Paul the Heterosexual Drag Queen and the Park Slope Strangler

2009-04-27T13:00:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those nights where random, insane things happened one after the other, with the next event being stranger than the last? Upon returning from Manhattan after bar crawling one crisp autumn night with Nora Diniro, Ladies and Gentlemen Mr. Burt Bacharach and I decided, foolishly, that the night was still young (even though it was well after midnight). As my palate reaches the height of sophistication when I am tipsy, I declared that I could not continue drinking until I went to the deli and got a BLT with American cheese and ranch dressing on it. I opted to indulge while sitting on a random stoop on the southside of Williamsburg as LGMBB smoked cigarettes and drank a ginger ale.

While I marveled at the deliciousness of my sandwich, a kindly, tall, rather stout 40-something drag queen named Paul approached us and said hello. Apparently his friends had tied him up and left him at a fetish party, so he was looking for new soul sisters and brothers. He wanted to know everything about us, but decided that he would try to guess before we told him about our lives and loves. He thought that LGMBB was a lawyer or a teacher, while I was a paralegal or a cop. His clear (and totally on-the-money) psychic abilities not-withstanding, he joined us for part of the walk to our next destination, the Levee. (Editor's note: if you ever need a little bit of shit-show in your life, the Levee is the place to find it.) While we were parting ways, Paul decided to strike some poses, and asked me to take his photo on my phone and send it to him. I was too drunk to realize that this was a ploy to get my number, but I learned the hard way as he called me all that week, and even two months after this special evening. He may not have been my dream date but he was, truthfully, a sweetheart.

Once at the Levee, I opted for a house cocktail, the Gatorita, something of a Gatorade/margarita concoction, because electrolytes and tequila go so very well together. While at the bar, LGMBB met a piece of fine-as-hell man candy and bonded quickly with him. When they went out to smoke and whisper a few sweet nothings in each other's ears, I greatly amused myself by playing Connect 4 at the bar, and remembered that I had read somewhere that Beyonce was a Connect 4 champion. I alas was not able to channel my inner Beyonce while playing against myself. After a bit, or it may have only been 5 minutes as when I'm drunk I have no perception of time, I went to look out the window to make sure that LGMBB was okay. Everything seemed to be kosher, or so I thought. Not long after I returned to my brain-busting game, LGMBB found me, and uttered two sentences that will go down in the annals of history: "He likes to choke women when he has sex. We need to go."

We left the bar, but just outside the exit the Park Slope Strangler stopped LGMBB and me, trying to explain to us that this was normal and healthy, that he just likes to experiment and that he wanted to be honest about his deepest desires, as he could really see a future with LGMBB. Because we were not easily persuaded, he decided to put together a panel of experts, a.k.a. hipsters, assembling what I like to call the Williamsburg Town Hall meeting. Among those concerned citizens weighing in were some sweet girls horrified at the Strangler's propositions, as well as a rogue Australian with a heart the size of his continent. I took a breather as the meeting got into full swing, and sat down on the stoop near the bouncer (who resembles a Nelson brother circa 1990 and could be the love of my life). A strapping young man, most likely in the 19-22 age range (let's just say I'm older than that), was so very concerned that I was chilled by the first frost of autumn that he offered to make out, which I happily did. I remember overhearing the Strangler asking LGMBB, "Is that your friend hooking up? That was quick."

The Town Hall Meeting soon came to a close, as the Strangler just could not make a solid case for his perversion, and the kid I was making out with was so drunk he didn't know where he was. LGMBB and I waltzed into the sunrise, safe and sound, watched over by the Australian peddling close by on his bicycle.

Surprisingly we are still allowed to drink at the Levee. That can't last for very long.

Douche Was Like What? Caption Contest - Week of 4/27/09

2009-04-27T09:23:00.000-07:00

Please leave your caption suggestions in the comments. The winner will be announced 5/1/09.

Got any pic suggestions? Send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

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

2009-04-27T07:47:00.000-07:00

This week's sponsor is the extremely sexy, extremely switched on Bo Obama. When recently asked about Bo, Michelle Obama described him as "crazy." There is something about Bo that just sorta says " My family is business casual, but I am ready to party. Try me out, I am a good time." Bo would do a keg stand and meet you at the San Loco for brunch for sure.

ATM!!!!!!!

2009-04-24T07:41:00.000-07:00

This is a hilarious drunk text sent to us from a reader who hails from New York, New York:

"I know this is a little random, but remember those ATM commercials from the 90s with kids running around in India yelling ATMMMMMMM? They were pretty clever"

Sent or received any hilarious drunken texts? Please send them to us at weekenddouche@gmail.com.

Weekend Douche Update - This Week in Douche News

2009-04-24T07:38:00.000-07:00

Ellen Degeneres tries to get Lindsay to take a break from being a Weekend Douche ... Lindsay doesn't take the hint - Dlisted

Coachella: Weekend Douche Heaven - Gawker

Is there a double standard for women when it comes to drinking? Lily Allen says yes - Jezebel

Alcohol apparently brings out the bisexual in Michelle Rodriguez - Perez Hilton

At "Alcoholic Architecture," you can stand around a breathe in gin they pump into the air, since, you know, sipping and swallowing is such a hassle - Dlisted

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

Caption Contest Winner!

2009-04-24T07:29:00.000-07:00

And the winner is...

"When you fuck with Mr. Softee, he calls in his muscle to regulate."

Congratulations NYYRulez, and thanks to everyone who submitted captions!

Here's To The Nights We Felt Alive - A Vignette

2009-04-22T10:55:00.000-07:00

I am going to treat you all to an epic that happened a couple of years ago at Harvey’s Mom’s birthday party. This is the greatest motherfucking story ever told. Prepare.

H&M decided to have her birthday at an Irish pub in Manhattan. There was pre-gaming, a little grab-ass, a credit card check or two (meaning the ass swipe, not the actual calling of Visa), but H&M didn’t seem that trashed. This would change immediately upon arrival.

Everyone, that is everyone, was there, this meaning the people we are friends with because they are everyone we know. Then I heard H&M say something along the lines of “I love you so much, no seriously though, I love you, you are fucking awesome.” This is code for I am fucking smashed and need to stick the long middle one down my throat real quick, then treat myself to some skank pizza, maybe even another drink and Bed Bath & Beyond if I have time.

Next, H&M needed to go to the bathroom. I volunteered my assistance. It was halfway down the steps when I was told something like “I’m not going to fucking make it. What the fuck is this line all about? I’m not waiting in this shit!” We shamelessly walked into the men’s room. As H&M dropped to her knees in a stall, I had to stand there with my arms crossed, awkwardly waving at the males in the house. Then, the most beautiful Irish bartender ever walked in. As I watched him urinate with just blatant disregard for social norms, such as apologizing for pulling his wang out in front of a lady (if one could call me that), I not only became enchanted but also relatively convinced he was indeed my destiny. This moment would be ruined.

As he and I started speaking, while I imagined telling my children the story of how I met their father, he looked at me and made a comment about H&M’s drinking and how she must not be Irish. At this point, she told him to “go fuck himself.” She then followed with a line that would go down in history. She said “My name is Erin O’Connor. It doesn’t get any more fucking Irish than that.” He looked at me confused, his eyes sort of relaying the message of “you also must be a nasty drunk fuck, but instead you are cleverly hiding your true nature behind that turquoise top and the Miller High Life in your hand.” As he started to back up and leave, H&M let out a guttural “Fuck You, I AM GERMAN.” No one is really sure what the point of that one was.

H&M was carried into a cab and arrived safely at home as I walked the streets of the East Village alone, on my way to check in on her. Upon meeting again, I am pretty sure I tried to get her to eat both a piece of chicken and olive pizza and “Lobster XTREMES” from T.G.I.F. to no avail.

Because You Care...DEEPLY

2009-04-21T12:42:00.000-07:00

Weekend in Review

I just wanted to let everyone know the answers to the two questions that were on everyone’s minds. 1.) Harvey’s Mom did not go on the mechanical bull drunk this weekend. We didn’t make it to the Lower East Side because we had to do field work. You’re welcome. There was also an excuse mentioned about having no pants. I will leave that alone. Soon, very soon, it will happen and there will be pics. Naughty ones.

2.) Yes, we did go to San Loco!! H &M tried to get a sangria for both of us, I had to stop her. No, I did not eat the paper on the taco but instead ordered a catfish burrito, none of which I ate. I also threw up several times on the street afterward. P.S. San Loco is now serving brunch!! This way you can drink and vomit first thing in the morning. Tell them the drunken girl with puke on her jeans sent you!