First off, I'm Doug.
I'm a huge fan of subtitles. And I look bad in hats. Why? Maybe because
I haven't found the right hat. Maybe because hats just don't
flatter my skull. And MAYBE because I'm dead inside and hats are the
only reminder of my bleak, meaningless existence on this earth.
But I digress. I'm 21 years old, which is great in its own way.
I'm old enough to legally drink and legally buy whatever drinks I want.
But there's another problem they don't tell you about when you're 20.
Every 21 year old in America is fucking broke, If you don't believe me,
look at the fucking retail shops full of these suckers. We all love
drinking, oh yeah, and if given the slightest window of opportunity in
which to share our age, we tell you. We spit it right in your
fucking face. I'm 21! Yeah, good, but you know what? Don't tell younger
people, you know why? Because you shouldn't be hanging out with
anyone under 21 at this age anyway, they'll just bug you to buy for
them, and if you don't, you're lame, you're a pussy. Fuck you youngerthans,
I'm awesome, and you're a fucking retard. You can't even buy alcohol...baha.
That's enough laughter for now. In fact, that's enough for your
lifetime. Laughing too much kills, and if you don't believe me, then
fuck you, I'll
make you laugh until you die. Yeah. Death from laughter, which means
that everyone who ever fucking sees your pathetic epitaph that says,
"He loved to laugh, so much in fact, that he died from
laughing" and they'll all think you're retarded. Why? Because you
are, then they'll laugh so hard, they'll die, and you'll end up
killing everyone in existence because you're a fucking mo.
In the time that was 1985, the second coming of Christ went
completely unnoticed. Why, you ask, how could an entire religion of
idiots that are waiting for humanity to end so they can all go to
some magical place in the clouds with a bunch of harp playing pussies
that don't even play air hockey because it's too violent for their
tastes ignore the coming of their only "lord and savior"?
Because. Doug was born. That's right, and he was born right into a life
of mediocrity. Do you think he did anything with this life? Hell yes.
Doug has carjacked carjackers, kicked soccer players, slam dunked
cheerios in his cereal bowl, and has done everything you've ever wanted
to do, either blindfolded, or with a sigh, because I cannot be
entertained.
So fast fucking forward to present day, Doug is currently bored,
and is lending his expertise in making fun of shit and hating everyone
so that
readers can get their daily dose of fuck you. In the greatest of great
halls of ancient Greece, Plato pissed himself because he knew he
couldn't even come CLOSE to whatever the fuck I talk about in the
five minutes that I'm filling my car with gasoline talking to no-one.
So, shut your mouth, eat shit, and sit in your fucking stupid pink
fluffy room of shame and manboobs, read my shit and go crying to your
legal guardians, because I just rocked your face off with text.
