Have you ever walked down the pier in just a penny after some serious reps and tried to mack on blonde bitties? Ya, me neither. If you answered “yeah, brah”, then you are probably a huge douche, and this article is perfect for you.
But first I need to extend a huge thank you to my bud/writing partner Becca for filling in for me for the past few weeks. I have been on a Nerdist Furlough with illness, and am finally on the mend. But as luck would have it, were it not for being so sick, I would never have thought of this a-bro-mination of a playlist:
The nature of my illness is digestive, so for a while my only nutritional intake was provided by my local Smoothie King. This was just peachy (sometimes mango-y) until I realized that my fortress away from malnutrition seconds as a bastion for sweaty meatheads tryna get a protein fix after lifting. Last Friday, I was particularly sick and crabby, so my tolerance for anything abrasively bro was just about as low as my tolerance for anything lactose. After being sandwiched in line between two douchetards trading workout regimens in remedial English (brospeak), I was ready to get my 20oz MangoFest and bolt. I paid, took a mango-y swig and swiveled towards the exit.
Now I’m not sure if what happened next was the result of MangoFest hitting my stomach or the visceral disgust of turning around to find these two taints flexing for each other and comparing bicep density, but there was something that my body could not manage in that moment and that the fruity swig found its way to both of those dudes’ sneakers.
After that whole mess, I had a really meditative (dehydrated/dangerous) drive home, during which I pondered the cultural and philosophical choices one makes in becoming a bro. Do you buy “Crash” by Dave Matthews Band and then discover that you really like Gamecube and deadlifts, or is it more of a chicken-egg situation? Joose or Four Loko? Applebee’s or Outback Steakhouse?
With these questions still in mind I parked, ran up to my room and began making a list. When I awoke later in the day, I found sitting on my desk “The Huge Douche Playlist” you see below. If you are offended, don’t be; I just gave you a pretty rad mix for beer pong or hate crimes or whatever it is that Huge Douches like to do.
1. Anything By Creed:
Buttrock at its finest. Every song sounds like Scott Stapp is choking on a Shamwow and tripping over a guitar
2. Anything By Nickelback:
See description for Creed. Also,
3. “Danger Zone” –Kenny Loggins
Thank you Top Gun for the advent of the wingman: always there to talk to the ugly friend and spot some risky bench presses.
4. “Down Under” –Men At Work
It may be the Snowpocalypse in the Midwest, but that doesn’t mean that
someone somewhere isn’t rocking a wife beater and Sperrys in the sun.
5. “Pour Some Sugar On Me” –Def Leppard
No Words. Just Awful.
6. “Evenflow” –Pearl Jam
Now I’ve got nothing against Pearl Jam. Eddie Vedder seems like a cool guy,
And the lead guitarist even has the same digestive disease that I do (MangoFest, Mr McCready?). But what is a douchey playlist without some authentic 90’s grunge?
7. “Last Resort” –Papa Roach
“Cut my life into pieces; I am the lead singer of Papa Roach.”
8. “Blurry” –Puddle Of Mudd
See description for Creed.
9. “That Was A Crazy Game Of Poker” –O.A.R
I guess this song is technically more “bro” than “douche,” but sometimes
you just have to throw out semantics, turn on some ska, and compare bicep
10. “I Stand Alone” –Godsmack
This song was in a Navy commercial a few years back. Lesser known was the curb-stomping commercial that this song was also featured in.