If you don’t know by now, half of LA is in Miami right now for WMC. Now, maybe this post spawned out of jealousy because every few hours I get a text: “crazy!! wish you were here…” or: “so wasted, so many people, so much fun…” OR maybe I’m writing this post because in all reality, I KNOW the kind of people I will be surrounded with on South Beach. That’s right kids, it’s time for another “Mark’s ode-to-douchebags” post. Let’s have a look, shall we? For my prologue I present the following specimens:

Oh, do read on…

Normally I don’t like bashing on people. I feel it creates an essence of bad karma, negative energy, is slightly immature and ya know…but fuck it, when you look like this:

I’m not even sure where to begin with those two (or about the guy getting fish-hooked in the backround.) Sometimes, things are better left unsaid.

Back to my asshole friends in Miami. I’m sure everyone is prancing around the beach during the day and raging at night; ya know, because of the surplus of DJ’s, photographers and bangin’ clubs with DJ’s serving up some “heater sets,” but honestly, all my fun would come to end if I ran into this catastrophe:

Jesus Christ lady! When I first saw this picture, I slightly coughed up some coffee and fought back a couple tears. At least she can take comfort in the fact that if she falls face first after her 8th Jager-bomb and 7th Heineken, she will arise unscathed. Why, you ask? $4,000 chest guards made completely of broken dreams, that’s why. Sometimes though, going to places like Miami, New Jersey, Daytona and downtown Huntington Beach (yea, I said it) can be fun. In honor of fun, how about a little time travel!? Sometimes I sit in my room, turn on my magical, patented and privately owned Time Travel machine and go back to…say, 1998:

“Damnit Star! Take the picture, my lips hurt from puckering!” said Britney with one ‘T’. For god’s sake, it’s 2008..expand your wardrobe and update a LITTLE bit! I’m not asking you to be the new fashion guru of what’s on the up-and-up, but try- a little. All this picture tells me is that even clowns love a good tan here and there, and why not..posing for pictures with other clowns! One big tan happy clown family!

Conversely, I COULD get into the whole scenester and hipster bashing session as well, or any other “scene” or “clique” out there, but nay. Today is not the day. The scenester/emo/indie crew doesn’t really hurt anyone, just exists, quietly…with huge plugs. And the hipsters, all you really gotta do to avoid a stereotype is tone it down a notch or four. You don’t need 4 ascots, 7 necklaces and a V-neck down to your belly-button.. AND just make sure not to pose with your cigarette and drink in every picture with that ‘too-cool for school’ face and you’ll be left unharmed. But the aforementioned guidos, bro-ho’s, bro’s, douchebags, mentally devoids (whatever you want to call them) deserve a lashing every now and then for all the times I’ve gotten into a stare down competition with the shit-fest that drives this:

I know this post really didn’t go anywhere, basically just some pictures and me commenting, but it did make me feel better knowing that at least I don’t have to go to Miami to see all them, I’ll just go hang out at Sharkeez.

On a lighter note, I’ll leave you with a joke. What do you get when you cross 87lbs of saline, 44lbs of bleach, 6inches of fabric, 87 combined IQ points and 4 gold medals of un-originality? This:

Happy day!!