Nominee #6: Everybody but LeBron

Everybody is a Douche.

I'm a Douche, you're a Douche, your mom is a Douche, Gandhi is a Douche, that guy you met at summer camp is a Douche, the girl with a pierced eyebrow giving you your McFlurry is a Douche, your future children are Douches, your future children's children are Douches, God is a Douche and even Tom Hanks is a Douche.

But LeBron Raymone (bet you didn't know his middle name) James is NOT a Douche.

This blog post today is dedicated to everyone in the world who is a Douche...and this does not, I repeat, does NOT include LeBron James.

So world....what's your deal? Why are you such a massive Douche. LeBron James spends two weeks of his life valiantly battling the Orlando Magic (Sticks) only to be rewarded by bad teammates, Skip Bayless and ultimately a LOSS??? Well Douche-that-is-Planet-Earth, I don't know if you got the memo but LeBron James does not lose. He simply does not. And only a Douche would disobey Rule #1 of Reality and Existence.

But fate isn't the only Douche this week. Nike and Sports Illustrated are Douches for jinxing the shit out of LeBron. Zydrunas Ilguaskas, Mo Williams and the rest of the Cavs not-ready-for-primetime-players are Douches

 (with the possible exception of Delonte West because I love him like a brother). Dwight Howard is a Douche for figuring out he should be one of the 5 most dominant players in the NBA at the most inopportune time. Hedo Turkoglu is a Douche for constantly grinning like an idiot. Rashard Lewis is a Douche for hitting clutch shots. Courtney Lee is a Douche for not convincing Danny Ferry to draft him. Stan Van Gundy is a Douche because....well he knows why.

I'm a Douche. Yes me. I doubted LeBron and I misplaced my faith in false idols (like Anderson Varejao was really going to stop Dwight Howard). LeBron sensed my faithlessness and decided to preclude himself from the Finals as punishment for my sins.

And you're a Douche. When you saw LeBron walk off the court without stopping to shake anyone's hand, you thought "what a Douche!" But the mere fact that you thought LeBron James could be a Douche reveals you to be a massive Douche yourself.

So it is for undeniable Doucheness in the face of the impossible that I nominate "Everybody but LeBron" for Biggest Douche in the Universe 2009.

May my heart and soul someday feel full again...

Nominee #5: Jon and Kate

Jon and Kate suck, man.

Well maybe I should back up a little bit. For those of you who don't: watch The Learning Channel, have access the Internet, or have a functioning brain, Jon and Kate Gosselin are a happily marr...well, married couple whose claim to fame is being remarkably fertile.

The Gosselin clan (after experimental reproductive therapy of some sort) begat a pair of twins followed by a set of sixtuplets. Since the children were fairly photogenic and had so observable birth defects, TLC decided to step in and film Jon and Kate Plus 8, a show about the trials and tribulations that come along with 8 children.

I think TLC was secretly hoping for Jon and Kate to lose their minds, feed the children cyanide pills then blow each other's brains out Shakespeare/Luhrmann-style. But instead what they got was a little more subtle. 

Jon and Kate Plus 8 quickly became Jon and Kate Passive Aggressively Tear Each Other's Souls Apart (and Happen to Have 8 Kids). At first I suppose it was cute enough, but like most "reality" shows on TV things took a turn for the Douche.

"Allegations" arose that Jon had cheated on Kate. It probably didn't help 

that pictures like this hit the Interwebs. Then of course more "allegations" arose that Kate was che

ating on Jon with...the Bodyguard (the Bodyguard is the 2009 Reality TV version of the nanny). 

Of course, this is nothing new. It is 2009: people get divorced like buying new furniture. But Jon and Kate have reached new levels of Domestic Doucheness in presenting the whole ordeal to the public....IN FRONT OF THEIR 8-FUCKING-KIDS.

For us (the enlightened public) this is just a more fun retread of Brad and Jen, but for the kids this is HELL. Could you imagine if a professional film crew taped a permanent audio-visual record of the era in which your family fell apart and tore your very soul in two? And that's not to mention the magazine covers and Google search results regarding your parents infidelity. 

But I don't blame the media, because if I did they wouldn't let me back into Scripps School of Journalism. No, I blame Jon and Kate. They're the real Douches in all of this.

So it is for broadcasting their Douchery across cable signals and disappointing the largest amount of kids since Bambi's mom died that I nominate Jon and Kate Biggest Douche in the Universe 2009.

And for Christ's sake, Gosselins, just wear a rubber next time.

Nominee #4: The Post

Every now and then I come across something so fantastic, so laughable, so Douche-rific that my heart nearly stops.

Normally, I must look toward the National media and keep an eye on World-wide current events. But there are those oh-so-sweet moments when the perfect example of Douche comes right to my doorstep.

Last week was one of these examples.

What you are currently looking at above this text is an actual headline taken from last Thursday's edition of Ohio University's student-run newspaper, The Post. I am usually pretty warm to the Post. They may not always be perfect but at least the paper is polished, professional and oftentimes, entertaining. But this headline was so offensively crass, foolish and lame that I must point to it and cry "Douche!"

"April Showers Bring Autism Awareness." All together now: "Whaa.....???" This is a classic example for Journalism students everywhere that just because you can doe something doesn't mean you should. I am sure if you locked me in a dark room for hours I could come up with dozens of puns and cute phrases for every news story ever written. But that doesn't mean that every news story requires a pun or cute phrase.

And this was definitely one of those cases. Why couldn't The Post simply write "Athens Recognizes Autism Awareness Month," or "April Means Autism Awareness for Ohio University?" Why for the love of all things Douche did Autism Awareness need to be brought to Athens, Ohio via a Grand Storm of Cliche?

Since the Post was Douche enough in nature to allude to "April Showers" and "Autism Awareness" in the same sentence, I fully expect them to find alliterative cliches for every event that occurs in April henceforth.

April Showers Bring More Attempted Assaults

April Showers Bring Ass-raping Apes

April Showers Bring Austere Assholes to Athens

April Showers Brings Armadillos with AIDS

April Showers Bring Awesome Australian Anuses

April Showers Bring Attacks Against Alec Bojalad

April Showers Bring Awful Cliches to Athens

So, it is for an outrageous offense against alliteration, wordplay and common sense that I nominate the Post for Biggest Douche in the Universe 2009.

I just shudder to think what "May flowers" are going to bring.

Nominee #3: Anti-Babyshakers

You may or may not have heard but Apple Inc. made a fairly poor, perhaps even Douche-like, decision recently.

Steve Jobs and Company somehow let an App known as "Baby Shaker" show up in their iPhone App store. As one can probably assume by the name, the ultimate goal of the game is to shake every baby one encounters straight to hell. Because who doesn't want to kill some babies?

This strikes me as a questionable decision by Apple to say the least. I mean they had to know that any game ending in infanticide was probably a tough sell to the public.

But Apple is not my nominee for Biggest Douche in the Universe. No, the real Nominee for Immortal Douchehood in this story are the Douches that came out in opposition to Apple. 

Surely, voicing one's opposition to Babyshaking is not an inherently hateful idea. As a matter of fact, I would like to do so now: I don't think you should shake babies. But what sets me apart from Douches (at least in this case) is that I also do not believe that Apple wants you to shake babies.

"But Alec, surely no one was suggesting that Apple was condoning these actions," you say.

"Well, Dear Reader, some one did suggest that Apple was condoning these actions...and this person is a douche," I say.

Seriously. 

According to Daniel Ionescu (who is flirting with Douchedom for having such a difficult last name) of PC World "children advocacy groups" have charged that by including the game in its App store, Apple is saying that QUOTE: "killing babies is acceptable." UNQUOTE

Uhhh.......

Apple Inc. is one of the largest corporate entities on Planet Earth. And even if this corporate entity isn't always inherently decent...it isn't brain dead. I am going to go out on a limb here and speak for Apple when I say that Steve Jobs doesn't want you to kill babies. Babies become adults. Adults become Mac-users. Why would Steve Jobs shake those babies?

But in the world of a Douche, I guess it only makes sense that video-games turn people into demented Babyshakers. Never mind the fact that people insane enough to shake babies probably don't spend much time plugged into technology. And if video-games had that much of an impact on are actions anyway, there would be a lot more fat plumbers trying to rescue princesses. 

And "child advocacy groups?" Aren't those just called "parents."

So it is for ignorantly railing against images on an iPhone in a Douche-like manner that I nominate Anti-babyshakers for Biggest Douche in the Universe 2009.

Makes me so mad I want to shake a baby.

Nominee #2: Slumdad

So you have the most adorable daughter in the world who acted in a movie that is only a few months removed from winning 7 Oscars including Best Picture...what do you do next?

Most people would answer "live happily ever-after in basking in the glow of said daughter's adorableness." But a Douche would answer "try to sell said daughter for $300,000."

Rafiq Quereshi faced this moral quandry recently and how do you think he answered? Well, since you are currently reading the Biggest Douche in the Universe blog, it would be fair bet that Rafiq took the Douche route. And yes, that's what he did. Earlier this month news broke that Rafiq Quereshi attempted to sell his 8-year-old daughter Rubina, who had appeared as the child version of Latika in Slumdog Millionaire.

Of course, Indian police have now cleared Mr. Quereshi of any wrong-doing. But if there is one thing I know about Indian police based on the one movie I saw about India directed and written by British dudes, it is this: Indian police aren't good at their jobs.

It is because of that knowledge and the fact that it is far more convenient for the purpose of this blog that I am operating under the knowledge that Rafiq tried to sell his daughter.

What a Douche.

I mean seriously, look at this little girl. She is literally the most adorable creature on the planet. For all we know her smile could be the cure for cancer, terrorism and Major League Baseball's steroid issue.

I am the world's preeminent experts on Pessimism and even I believe that this little shining beacon of cuteness is priceless. 

So fuck you, Rafiq! How dare you try to sell your daughter...and for only $300,000. It is a good thing that the British tabloids (another sign of this story's legitimacy) outed you so quickly because you would have felt like such an ass when you sold her for 300K and then some one flipped her to me for $185 million. No, I don't have that kind of money but I am sure the federal government would have kicked in some cash for me if I promised to let them use her to find a cure for the "Frowny-downy days."

It is with great relish that I nominate Rafiq Quresh for Excellence in Douche-like Parenting/Poor Business Transactions. May he remember this nomination the next time he decides to let British tabloids make base-less accusations about him.

And one more thing: "Laaatikaaaaaaaaa!"

Nominee #1: Pirates

The first ever nominee in my ongoing search for the Biggest Douche in the Universe is: Somali Pirates.

These pirating piss-bags are nominated for excellence in Douchery not because they have killed dozens of people, stolen millions of dollars or kidnapped a commercial sea-liner Captain. No, these Pirates are Douches because ... they are fucking Pirates.

Seriously, I thought the year was 2009, not 1709. Pirates are only supposed to be half-decent Jerry Bruckheimer movies and really bad baseball teams. They aren't a gang of Asshole Africans who just happen to have access to motorboats and AK-47s. I mean it is kind of sad to watch more than anything. Like when grandpa is trying to relive his glory days but they have clearly passed him by ... only grandpa has a peg-leg, eye patch and African Macaw on his shoulder.

Look Somali Pirates, I know treasure is great and all and you just can't wait to get your hands on that conveniently clean and non-degraded chest with an easily breakable lock, but I assure you: there is no "X marks the spot" on an American cruise ship full of confused retirees in Speedos. Unless two shuffleboard tables intersect.

Is this really what Pirates did in the 18th Century? Did they just harrass cruise-liners and freighters full of canned soup and breakfast cereals? Because if that's the case, then our image of Pirates is now ruined forever. There is a whole crew of lonely losers on Facebook who will have to now find a past-time other than "fighting" virtual ninjas. Good job, Somali Pirates, good job.

So it is for shattering childhood images of lovable scallywags and annoying Douchery on the High Seas that I nominate Somali Pirates for Biggest Douche in the Universe, 2009.

Gaaaaaaaargggh!

Commence the Douchery

My name is Alec Bojalad ... and I hate you.

Don't worry, it wasn't anything you did or anything you said. As a matter of fact we have probably never met. But the mere fact that you are able to read and comprehend these symbols means that you are a human being and I hate human beings. So by the theory of conversion, I hate you. Unless, of course, a dog taught him how to read and is currently curled up on an old office chair deciphering the English language. To him I say: Right on, Fido. To all of you I say: fuck you.

It is nothing personal, I just hate human beings. They are loud and they are selfish and they are foolish. In short: they are Douches.

But even I know how to differentiate between the Kind of/sort of Douches and the undeniable-kill-us-all-now Douches. Occasionally, humanity will offer some glimmer of decency or hope for our species. Sometimes a person will commit a truly self-less act in the name of love and the greater good. 

You will find none of these stories on my blog.

On these pages of misery and woe, you will find only tale after tale of the Biggest Douches that humanity has to offer. I will scour the Interwebs, looking for the awful-est, lamest, asstard-iest, most Douche-iest human beings I can find. Then I will post their stories of breath-taking Douchery on the site. Then in the grand tradition John Edward, I will nominate the 5 biggest Douches at the end of the year and let the Internet vote on who is the Biggest Douche in the Universe.

Sound like fun? Good.

Here are some Housekeeping notes before I can truly begin this quest of Douche:

- I am in no way affiliated with Trey Parker, Matt Stone, South Park or Comedy Central and have no idea if the term "Biggest Douche in the Universe" is copyrighted or not. If it is, I am sure Viacom will come find me eventually. So enjoy it while it exists.

- Those who are interested in what brought along my Douche-hunting passion and acerbic wit need only to check out my previous and now defunct blog The Collective(ly) Unconscious.

- Posts will not be released on any set-schedule. I am a college student and have a lot of various responsibilities so I will write about Douches as inspiration strikes. But I would venture a guess that about a post a week is a fair expectation.

Well, that's all of the boring stuff.

Despite my harsh manner, I hope you will join me on this noble quest to find the Biggest Douche in the Universe.