The other day, during a drive out to dinner sans iPod (douchey accoutrement, yes, but what can you do?), a partiuclarly grim series of songs on the radio prompted a discussion about the ever-morphing and ultra-important Douchebag Heirarchy. First and foremost, you always have to keep in mind that the coterie of unter-douches is flexible, but there remains one Alpha Douche, the Archedouche of all douches, as my pal says, the exemplar to which all other douches are compared. That, my friends, is Eric Clapton. Though his doucheosity should not need to be explained, for the uninitiated I will write a list, a PARTIAL list, detailing why Eric Clapton is the Archedouche.

  1. His music extra, super, double-blows. His alleged skills on the guitar are totally secondary to his cock-rocky blues "riffs" and impossibly bland vocal stylings. Every single one of his songs makes the world a worse place. If I were married to George Harrison (if only) and Eric Clapton stole  me away and then he wrote "Layla" for me, I’d dump him, immediately, because "Layla" is possibly the worst song ever written, only narrowly beating out "Lightning Crashes" by Live (you know, "mmmmmwoah ahhhh feeeeeeel iiiiiit cooooooooooming bayaaaayaack agiiiiiiin, lahk a rowhl uuuuuv thuuuuuuundrrrrr chasin’ the wiiiiiiind"–the singer from Live, b-t-dubs, is part of the Douche Coterie).
  2. He made approximately ninety-twelve jabillion dollars (tm Frank) by accidentally murdering his toddler. WITH THE DOUCHIEST SONG EVER. I take back "Layla," "Tears in Heaven" is way, way worse. Honestly all Eric Clapton songs compete in my head for Douchiest Song Ever all day long.
  3. He thinks he’s SO COOL just because he can Pat Boone his way through some fake blues guitar that actual blues musicians have been doing, sans making ninety-twelve jabillion dollars off their childrens’ deaths, for three-quarters of a century.
  4. Other people somehow also think he’s cool because if there’s one thing the entertainment industry loves, it’s medicority (see also: "comedian" Dane Cook)
  5. Review reasons 1 and 2 again and realize that in the words of my half-people, "diyanu" or however you transliterate that. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SUFFICIENT, is what I mean.

Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go do anything humanly possible to get "Lightning Crashes" out of my head. Mwwwwooooh ah feeeeel it cooooomin back agiiiin (b-t-dubs, do you know that song actually has the word "placenta" in it? And claims a placenta can "crash" to the floor? And not "splat" which is what a placenta would totally do if that happens?) laaaaaaahk a roooooooolll of thuuuuuuuuuuuunder chaysin’ thuuuuh wiiiiiiiiiiind"–also, that song is meterologically inaccurate, because lightening does not crash! Meh! Douches everywhere!

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One thought on “The Archedouche, and his Coterie of Douche Apprentices

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