It was like God sprayed celebrity Raid on Hollywood last week. Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and then my beloved Billy Mays all kicked the bucket. Prior to that, my kung fu hero David Carradine decided to wank his dip stick in a closet and accidentally hung himself. I thought Patrick Swayze would be next, or at the very least, the ShamWow guy. I hate that hooker-beater motherfucker.

Since nothing I ever do is considered in ‘good taste’, I decided to use my web site to tell the masses what REALLY happened to the King of Pop, Billy Mays, and how the ScamWow guy is  an epic douchebag that should be arrested simply for peddling something as useless as a Shammy. Oh yeah, Shakespeare wanted in on the action so he is narrating. According to the ghost of Tupac, Shakespeare is a flaming homosexual. Who’d a thunk it? Gay people in Heaven?

Good thing I’m a liberal.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?“

IF IT DOESN’T FUCKING BREAK I GOT THE MOST AMAZING PRODUCT IN THE HISTORY OF AMAZING PRODUCTS CALLED ORANGE GLO!!! HI, BILLY MAYS HERE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A REVOLUTIONARY NEW CLEANING CHEMICAL THAT WILL MAKE YOUR BALLS TINGLE AND CAUSE YOUR HEART TO STOP BEATING!! ORANGE GLO!!!

“O Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Please Romeo… you can play with me, Romeo.
Just like Macaulay Culkin did, teeeheeeheeee. I’ll show him my THRILLER!

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HI, BILLY MAYS HERE AND I’D LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO THE NEWEST OF MY GOD-TECHNOLOGY CALLED THE ‘CELEBRITY KILLER 3000′!!! JUST AIM IT AT THE CELEBRITY YOU WANT TO KILL AND ‘BOOM! DONE!’, THEY ARE ASHES TO DUST!!!! I SOLD ONE TO MICHAEL JACKSON AND LOOK AT HIM NOW!!!! IS HE WHITE OR BLACK??? BUY 3 TODAY AND AIM THEM AT PEREZ HILTON AND GET A FREE AUTOGRAPHED BILLY MAYS BODY BAG!!!

“From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life“

Ohhh, Billy Mays you’re so cute… if only you were 40 years younger.
Would you like to come and play with Michael in Neverland?
Just don’t beat it… teeehheeeeeeee!

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HI, BILLY MAYS AGAIN AND HI MICHAEL JACKSON. I THOUGHT I WOULD YELL AT YOU AGAIN WITH ANOTHER AMAZING PRODUCT OF MINE! MICHAEL, I MUST SHOW YOU THE AMAZING ANTI-CHILD-RAPE-6500 KIT THAT YOU INSTALL IN THE RECTUM OF YOUNG BOYS AND WHEN THEY ARE FONDLED OR RAPED IT SENDS A KARMIC SHOCK TO THE RAPIST AND THEY ARE CARDIAC ARRESTED!!!

MICHAEL?

FUCK.

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It was at this point that our beloved Billy Mays began huffing Oxyclean. His grief about inadvertantly causing Michael Jackson’s death wore heavy on him. He wrote in his will that he would like to be embalmed with OrangeGlo and laid to rest in Tampa, Florida next to a statue of him spearing Vince Shlomi, the ShamWow Guy, with an Oxy-cleaned trident made out of gold.

Billy Mays is dead? That’s a real shameWow!

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HI, BILLY MAYS HERE BACK FROM THE DEAD! LISTEN UP, FOR ONLY THREE PAYMENTS OF $12.95 YOU CAN GET AN EXCLUSIVE PASS INTO MY FUNERAL!! THAT’S RIGHT, MY FUNERAL! IF YOU CALL WITHIN THE NEXT 20 MINUTES, YOU CAN GET ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS IN, TOTALLY FREE! CALL RIGHT NOW AND I’LL EVEN THROW IN A 1 YEAR SUPPLY OF ORANGEGLO!!!!

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Michael Jackson is black in Heaven. Weird. Oh hey guys, I wanted to tell you the Publisher’s Clearing House is a total scam. Kinda like that ShamWow guy. Anyways, Johnny Carson and I are going to go back to playing golf with Jesus. The beef jerky up here is incredible, by the way. So are the babes. Mary’s not a virgin anymore, ha ha ha. AND I DON’T EVEN NEED VIAGRA TO GET IT UP!

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Shakespeare is gay and I’m really in Heaven. I spent the last 12 year watching Billy’s infomercials. He’s selling Oxyclean to Jesus right now! THUG LIFE!!!

‘A guide for the average pea-brained sex driven male’

By Kaitlyn Douglas and Nick, from LifeAsNick.com

This is the third entry in a multi-part series called Dating For Douchebags. Read the first entry here and the second here.

The last couple of entries for D4D have been geared towards picking up women. Picking up women is as easy as having a black Amex card, a dick the size of a peninsula, and a flashy car like a Gran Torino or a Ferrari Modena. But if you’re a douchebag you probably don’t have that. You probably have a Capital One credit card with a picture of your cat on it, a below average limp dick that only responds to Anime porn, and a 1993 Chevy Corsica. Or if you’re like the author of this web site, Chevrolegs. (As you see, D4D proudly supports fine American automobiles–and legs).

Now let’s say you finally got yourself a date. Good job, douchebag, don’t fuck it up! Here’s a handy DO/DON’T guide to insure that you finally get your douche noodle touched by a real, live, human female. You can put the blow up doll away now. You’re finally a man-douche, unless you fuck it up and return to single/lonely douchebag status. But don’t worry, we’ll have a few more chapters to help you achieve the elusive beast known as “the woman” IF you do fuck it up. And you probably will, douchebag.

DON’T: Drink too much.

The allure and temptation of having a few drinks while romancing your soon to be drugged cock princess is strong, even for a douchebag. Refrain from drinking too much. Douchebags are known for their propensity to abuse alcohol annoyingly (alliteration!), so tone that shit down. Be yourself and have a Boone’s Farm or a wine cooler. Leave the Jameson Irish Whiskey and Kentucky-Fried Moonshine to the professional alcoholics (like the authors of Dating For Douchebags).

Drunk guys don’t score.

Drunk girls DO score. So DO give your date tons of alcohol. After the fourth shot of Irish Whiskey she’ll be topless, dry humping your ficus, and singing along to Lil Wayne and purring, “lick…lick me like a lollipop“.

Not even a super douchebag can cock block that.

DON’T: Hate animals.

Animals were made so humans can dominate them. That’s why real men like to hunt. Women like to cuddle, organize their Barbies, and adopt annoying little yappy dogs. Punting those over-grown rats into next week may seem like a good idea, but don’t. Girls are a sensitive species. They cry watching The Notebook. Men cry when they smoke an elephant with a 50 cal in the Sahara from 300 yards out–we’re crying because we’re laughing so hard and high fiving each other over beers. Men rule.

Anyways, but YOU’RE a douchebag! You’ve never fired a gun in your life let alone killed anything other then a free range house ant. So I guess this doesn’t apply to you. But if you want to kick her yappy dog out the window for nipping your ankles or peeing in your Corsica, hold back. You want the vagina juices on your below average douchecock, right? Right.

DON’T: Have a messy room.

Keep a clean room. Don’t leave your ‘Dungeons & Dragons For Dummies’ book laying around. Pick up those baseball cards and action figures. And especially, ESPECIALLY, hide your fucking porn.

Girls snoop more than Indiana Jones. If she finds your medical fetish-Anime collection and pictures of mutilated cats with Photoshopped black cocks she’ll probably call the authorities and get a restraining order. The only girls in jail are the ones that will allow you to be gang raped by inmates, so keep that shit on the DL (that’s down low for the acronym challenged douchebag).

DO:

DO put fresh clothes on. Make sure to put extra-fresh pants on. Make them Downy-fresh. Girls don’t want to smell your week old ball sweat.

DO:

DO take her to a classy restaurant within your budget, like Carls Jr or that classy Mexican cantina around the corner that has farm animals in the back of the building.

DO:

DO talk about something most girls understand, like Twilight, what hair conditioner they use, cheesy romantic comedies, or types of vibrators they hide under their mattress. DON’T ASK HOW BIG THEY ARE. You’re not Ron Jeremy and you can’t compare, douchebag.

DO:

DO tell them how pretty they are. Even if they have buck teeth and a third nipple, girls love compliments almost as much as they love being treated like shit. Most douchebags are hard-up schmucks who couldn’t get laid in a monkey whorehouse with a sack of Chiquita bananas, so we (the authors of this fine series) don’t advise debasing women. Save that for the dudes who don’t have to read an online guide on how to pick up chicks.

Just lie to girls instead. Besides, you’re a douchebag–lying should come natural. Otherwise, you won’t get laid.

My best friend and MTV reality darling, Josh Dunn is having a birthday party extravaganza this Friday at some club in Hollywood. I normally don’t do club functions because my dancing is akin to me getting attacked by killer bee’s and I’m about as poor as any person you might find living in a cardboard box under a freeway overpass, so spending $14 for a fruity drink at some swanky club isn’t really my style. I’m more of a “get drunk behind the Safeway on charcoal filtered Vodka” type a guy. Anyhoo, Josh is my best friend and I am making an exception to celebrate his 26th. Plus, he told me he is getting free bottles. Free booze = Nick attending with glee. And how could I pass up the potential story opportunities?

The last time I partied with Josh on his birthday was two years ago. Afterward, I wrote the story about White Russians. I know I’ll have an equally insane story to write about this time, hence why I’m posting this up beforehand.

Yeah, he's generally shirt less all the time.