June 01, 2004 - 11:47 am

Alright, so here it is.

I know Iíve been keeping lots of people in suspense and I've been getting all sorts of emails from faithful, loyal readers who all want to know...

are Doug and Mike really assholes?

Oh trust me, you can't even imagine.

So Iím standing on the corner of 17th and 4th in Brooklyn waiting for Mr. discothekid himself to come and pick me up. I have no idea what to expect despite the pictures he's posted of himself on his diary (yes, I know. TOTALLY ARROGANT). I did try looking at them and for those of you who have also tried know this: the good news is that the contrast isnít messed up on your computer, the bad news: he really is that pale.

So, where was I? Ah, yes standing on the corner.

He pulls up.

Now, the first thing I notice is that this guy has red hair.

Red hair? come on

Up until this point I had been a little worried. I mean, I HATE to generalize but I was a little intimidated about meeting Doug him being a New Yorker.

But then I saw his red hair and was totally at ease. How bad can it be? People like Howdy Doody and Ronald McDonald have red hair.

I was so wrong. Ohhh, so wrong.

Turns out, as I later came to realize, that Dougís red hair is just a manifestation of his association with Satan. A so-called "souvenir" from the fiery pits of hell from whence his evilness came.

Satan incarnate: You Annie?

Heavenís little angel: Um, yes. Thatís me! Are you Doug? Um, hi!

So Iím a little nervous as you can tell by the "um's" in my response. I proceed to get in the car and then I hear

Evil Doug: a-HEM!

Americaís sweetheart: Oh, Iím sorry. Um, did I do something wrong?

Doug: Yeah, try taking your shoes off before you mess up the carpets in my car.


Doug: (under his breath) Fucking bitch.

Annie: ooooo-kay

So we proceed to drive into Manhattan to pick up Mike and Justin at the train station. We do not talk unless he initiates conversation.

Doug: So what's San Francisco like?

Annie: Oh! I really like it. Itís a really cool city. Itís kinda-

Doug: Kinda what? Better than NEW YORK?

Annie: Um, no, that wasn't what I was going to say at all.

Doug: Yeah, whateva. Look, let me just tell you right-the-fuck-now, I hate California and anything or anyone associated with it.

Annie: Have you been there?

Doug: Are you fucking testing me?

Annie: No, it's just that-

Doug: Just that' what? Man you must think Iím a fucking idiot!

Annie: No, that's not what I was-

Doug: Just shut the fuck up! NOW!

Annie: Wait a minute, why are you-

Doug then turns to me slowly and I swear his eyes started glowing red.

"Listen bitch, if you fucking know what's good for your fucking California ass, you'll do what I say and SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

His face was really red now too. So red, in fact that there was no difference between his hair, his red irises and his (now) red skin.

What was I to do?

So we pick up Mike and his friend Justin. Justin gets in behind Doug and Mike gets in behind me.

Now, I don't know if this was Dougís way of being secretive, but as you, dear readers, will be able to tell -it wasn't very discreet.

Doug: Hey Mike, remember what we were talking about earlier? Yeah, well, I was right. ANNIE IS A TOTAL BITCH FACED CUNT.

Mike: I fucking knew it.

Annie: What? But you haven't even given me a chance.

Mike: Listen, Bitchy McBitch-head, Doug here has the best fucking bitchdar this side of the Mississippi so don't you fucking challenge him.

Doug: That's what she's been doing the whole fucking way here dude! She was all "have you even BEEN to California, asshole?"

Annie: No, that's not at all how I said it! Wait a minute; I didnít say ďassholeĒ!

Mike reaches over the seat and smacks me upside the head.

What did I get myself into?

So we go eat at this place called Dojo's and I decide to try and give it a fresh start. We order our food and Doug, apparently noticing that Iím trying to be civil looks over and says:

"Your food looks good"

Iím so grateful that he is finally warming up to me; I smile at him and say ďThanks! Iím excited about it!Ē

Doug then, and I will NEVER forget this as long as I live, hawks a loogie and spits it into my pita.

Mike: Good one Doug! (they high five over the table).

Okay, so this is a little weird. Is it possible that they're just joking? I mean, it just seems like too much you know.

They weren't joking.

You know those rumors you hear about how women get raped and assaulted in broad daylight in NYC and no one helps them out? Theyíre TRUE.

Mike jumps over behind my chair and grabs both my arms while Doug picks up the pita and screams "EAT IT BITCH! EAT IT LIKE IT'S THE BEST FUCKING THING YOU'VE EVER TASTED!"

And no one helped me.

Tears started to roll down my face as I forced myself to take a bite of the loogie-turkey-pita sandwich.

Doug: Tell me how good it is! Say it!

Annie: It's good. No really. It IS kind of good.

Mike: Oh, she's disgusting.

We leave Dojoís and contrary to what you may have heard recently on some 12% audioblogs this is NOT where I assaulted Mike with knitting needles. In fact, I NEVER did that!

Hereís the thing, I thought my best bet was to attempt be nice to Mike because I had a feeling if I could show him Iím not really a bitch he would stand up for me and help protect me from Dougís seething temper. (Note: This was before I found out that he had no ball sack whatsoever).

I offered to knit him a scarf and I pulled out my supplies show him some samples and he could choose what stitch he liked best.

Now, one thing I learned about Mike, he is not only Dougís evil sidekick, he is Dougís GAY evil sidekick.

I start to show him my knitting and he screams like a girl and goes to tell Doug that I tried to assault him? One word: (well, one word in two syllables actually) SI-SSY

Please! Me? Assault?

Yes, I know.

Doug: Annie! Why donít you pick on someone your own size!?! Why are you such a fucking raging bitch!

Annie: I didnít do anything.

Justin: God! Do you do anything besides WHINE!

Annie: Iím sorry, Iím not, itís just Ė

Justin: The more you shut your fat trap, the more I like it.

We then get to Caliente Cab Co. where I meet Dougís wife Shandy who is surprisingly sane and normal and Iím wondering how she can stand him.

By this time, Iím in tears. I donít know how to get home and Iím stuck here where everyone hates me.

I go to the bathroom and when I come back out everyone is outside smoking except for Shandy.

Annie: I donít know what to doÖheís hated me from the moment I saw him and he didnít even give me a fair chance.

Shandy: Annie, did Doug say anything about Consuelo?

Annie: Consuelo?

Shandy: Look, while Doug claims to hate Latinos it stems from a place of love.

Annie: What? I donít understand.

Shan: See, he claims at one point he pretended that he was into the Mexican pop group Menudo just to get girls but that isnít really true. He really was (is) into Menudo. He was also into Consuelo, a girl who broke his heart. I think you bring back memories...

Annie: She hurt him?

Shan: She told the whole school that Doug had a small ďcoquiĒ.

Annie: ohhhhhhÖIím sorry Shan.

Shan: Donít worry girlfriend! I be getting mines at work. Thereís this hot intern from Califonia whoÖ*Censored due to being sworn to secrecy*

There you have it. Donít hate Doug, he canít help the fact that he has a tiny stubbin of a penis and was once humiliated in front of his whole school for it. His own burning, racist, little-dicked rage eating him alive is enough punishment. He doesnít need any more humiliation for it. I donít want to be Consuelo 2004.

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