Because I’m both nostalgic and bored. And in the words of Dave Barry, “I realize I am making some very broad generalizations here. Deal with it.”
The frat-daddy douche.
Do I even have to describe this one? I will, because I truly miss him-- Sperries on the bottom and Croakies on top, with a pastel Vineyard Vines ensemble in between, cheap Coozie-clad lite beer in hand, and if he’s wearing a bow tie and a GOP lapel sticker, that’s just gravy.
The finance major douche.
That guy who pisses on every other major, sneers at anyone else’s workload, and convinces himself that an undergrad career spent entirely in the ZSR is fine, and that working 80-hour weeks at J. P. Morgan someday is an acceptable dream. He either refuses to engage in plebeian conversation with you or devolves into a rabid story-topper every time you open your mouth.
The a cappella groupie douche.
The girl who plans her schedule around the performances of the premiere men’s a cappella group on campus, who posts about them on Facebook, who desperately befriends as many of the fellas as possible, and whose obsession slowly engenders the hatred of all the other boys she knows. She never dreams that the guys might not be as squeaky-clean as she envisions, and bless her heart, nobody tells her otherwise.
The comm major douche.
Now, comm majors tend to be a gentle breed who don’t take themselves too seriously, and generally I like them a lot. Here I am referring to the one guy who gets stressed over a three-page reflection paper on how “Charlie Brown’s Christmas” made him feel.
The sorority douche.
Any girl who uses the abbreviations “TSM” or “GDI,” or refers to an action as “a geed move.” You can spot her at football games in a sundress and, if she really knows what she’s doing, a floppy hat. Also, if you wake up early on 1 November, you can enjoy some truly wonderful walks of shame across the Quad.
The music major douche.
That girl who walks around campus like God’s gift to Wake Forest just because she can play three instruments and made the highest grade in music theory. This especially includes people who play their instruments in public, even when they’re not stomping around the football field in a ridiculous hat. They are attention whores, and I don’t want to hear anything more about diminished sevenths until they try to cut it at a real music school.
The radio kid douche.
He hates Vera Bradley, he hates rich people, he hates Greek organizations, he hates mainstream music, etc. He just want to sit on the floor in his pea coat and kvetch. He’s a rebel without a cause who wishes he’d just stayed in Asheville.
The English major douche.
She maintains a pointless blog just to amuse herself by saying rude things about her friends from college.
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