Category Archives: Douche Shark

Douche Shark 3 – The Passion of the Douche Shark – Douchey Things to Say to Shark Babes

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By: Douche Shark, the World’s Douchiest Shark

Yo…yo, hey bro.  Bro…hey!  Hey yo, bro!  Don’t swim away from me, bro.  I’m talkin’ to you, bro.  Don’t be rude bro.  Don’t be rude.  Come on, swim on back.  No, I’m not talkin’ to you 3.5 readers.  I’m talkin’ to my douche shark buddy behind you.  Don’t worry, he aint gonna eat you 3.5 bros.  He don’t snack on stank meat.  What?  What’d I say?  Aw come back 3.5 human bros.  Fine, I’ll talk to you too.

Bros…check it out, bros.  The ocean is filled with fine ass lady sharks ripe to be caught, and here are some things that a sexy douche shark like me will say to bag those sweet lady fins because as much as they say they don’t, lady sharks totally like douche sharks bro.  They do.

Nice sharks finish last bro.  You ever see a nerd shark bang a lady shark bro?  Cool, I rest my case, bro.

OK bro, study up because here’s what you got to say to a lady shark to make her wet…I mean beyond the ocean she’s already living in:

#1 – Yo baby, come back to my shark crib and we’ll listen to some Pitbull.

Dale, bro.  Dale.  Lady sharks love Pitbull, bro.  Dale, dale, dale.  Sip cristal, bro.  Mr. Worldwide, bro.

#2 – Come back to me when you aren’t fat, baby.

Oh what, bro?  What?  This isn’t hurtin’ bro.  It’s helpin.’  How a lady shark gonna know she needs to stop eatin’ extra swimmers bro?  She needs you to tell her to cut back on eatin’ humans bro.  You’re not tellin’ her you won’t bang her, just that you’ll bang her once she’s not fat anymore.  Now she got like a reason to lose weight.  All the sweet shark sex you’re offering is gonna motivate her, bro.

#3 – Baby, you were hotter when you didn’t talk.

Lady sharks are meant to be seen and not heard, brosef.  Sometimes you got to remind the lady sharks of this, bromax.

#4 – Are you the hottest of all your lady shark friends?

You can’t be bangin’ the least good lookin member of the lady shark, bro.  You’re limitin’ yourself if you do, bromandu.

#5 – Where’s my dinner, baby?

Bro…no bro.  Stop rollin’ your eyes, bro.  Look, lady sharks are forgetful.  When they forget to make your dinner you got to remind them bro.  Again, any attempt to help a lady shark be the best possible lady shark she can be will be appreciated, bro.  She’ll be glad you reminded her and whip up some dinner right away, preferably with extra human swimmer meat.

LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS, BROMARAMS!

Aight, bros.  I’m outtie 5000.  You’re so welcome I dropped by, bros.  You really are.  I’mma gonna go work on my shark delts and my shark quads and then go eat seven or eight people then pick up some lady shark hotties.  You got any comments, bro?  Let me know but put on some shark Axe body spray first because you all stink, 3.5 bros.

 

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Douche Shark III – Return to the Valley of the Douche Shark (Or, Why Aren’t You Answering My Texts, Bro?)

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By: Douche Shark, the World’s Douchiest Shark

Editorial Note:  For those just joining us, Douche Shark was born when Dr. Hugo Von Science dared to take the brain of a douche and insert it into a shark.  The result?  Douche Shark!

Bro.  Broseph.  Broski.  Broheim.  Bro-mo-lo-mo-ding-dong.  Yo, what gives bro?  I’ve been texting you all night, Brocephalitus and you’ve yet to return any of my dope ass attempts to correspond with you, bro.

Bro, I don’t think you realize how totes cool I was for interrupting my workout routine to text you all those dank memes, bro.  Some dude somewhere in the world was cool enough to insert some funny text underneath a photo of Bane and then in turn, I was cool enough to send it to you.   That way, when you’re at a party and you want to impress some lady sharks, you can just pull out your phone and show them all your funky fresh memes, bro.

Seriously, bro-dawg, what’s gotten into you?  You’ve been ignoring me completely, bro.  Even my Facebook requests, bro.  I sent you like, 9,342 reminders to take care of my FarmVille farm and when I got back from my trip to get discount Guatemalan botox inserted into my fin, I find all of my crops have died and my cartoon chicken is having sex with my cartoon cow.  That’s totes uncool, bro.  You failed your bro.  There’s nothing worse than a bro who fails a bro, bro.

And bro, while we’re having it out like a couple of bros, what’s up with you not snapping me back on snap chat?  WTF, bro?  I go to all the trouble of making my shark face look like a puppy and you can’t even be bothered to hit me back with a simple message like, “Oh, that’s really cool that you made your shark face look like a puppy, bro.  Good looking out.”

Seriously bro.  We need to talk.  That’s why I called you like seven hundred times in the hopes of having an actual voice conversation, even though that practice is totes ancient and like no one even does it anymore, bro.  But that’s how much I care, bro.  And it’s like you don’t even care anymore, bro.

Bro, why don’t we work out anymore?  I sent you like a thousand texts asking you to come spot me at the shark gym.  But you never came, bro.  I had to spot myself.  Then I had to rub shark lotion into my shark muscles all by myself.

Bro, I don’t know what’s up with you.  Maybe you need to switch energy drinks, bro.  Maybe you need to get out more and get down with some more fine ass lady sharks, bro. Maybe you need more of that Axe body spray for shark bodies.  I got a few cases I could spare you, bro.

All I know is you need to start stepping up your bro game, because this is not how bros treat other bros, so if you don’t start becoming a better bro, then I’m gonna have to replace you with a new bro in my bro posse, bro.

I’m just sayin’ bro, I’m just sayin.’  I don’t want to, but I am.  Someone’s gotta be real, bro. Someone’s gotta be real and if you were really my bro then you’d know I keep it real, bro.  I totes legit keep it hella real.

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Douche Shark II: Return of Douche Shark (Or, How to Chill, Bro)

By: Douche Shark, the World’s Douchiest Shark

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What up, 3.5 bros?

Pound it, bros.  Pound my fin.  Don’t leave the fin hangin’ bro.  Don’t leave it…aw nice there you go.

Check it bros, not much going on since I last checked in and downloaded my details.  I’m still dope.  I’m still fresh.  I’m still the biggest, baddest, toothiest killer fish in the sea and all the sexy, fly ass she-shark hunnies are after me.

“Oh Douche Shark,” the she-sharks say. “We can’t stop touching your fin” to wit I am known to reply, “That’s cool because there’s plenty of Douche Shark fin to go around ladies and I’m not going to be rationing it any time soon.”

But you know what, 3.5 Brosephs?  I worry about you all.  I worry that you aren’t chilling enough.  You’ve got to chill.  You’ve got to paint yourself yellow so you can totally mellow, bro.  I’m like, super serious right now.  Seriously bro.  Don’t deny my seriousness.

Here are like, some things or whatever, that I, Douche Shark, like to do when I need to chill:

  • Limp Bizkit.  You gotta have Limp Bizkit.  You just have to.  Is it rock?  Is it rap? Is it a man who just banged his thumb with a hammer by accident and now he’s screaming in pain?  You’re guess is as good as mine, Broheim.
  • I like to get my fin frosted.  You don’t got a fin, bro?  Aww, that’s bullshit bro.  You gotta get your hair tips frosted then.  Like, just mix in some blonde with some black and you know what your hair should be at least seventeen different colors bro.
  • Take and post 900 shirtless selfies of my sweet, rockin’ shark bod.  Yeah, all the she-sharks are like, “We aren’t cool with that” but what-evs, brah.  If they don’t like it they can swim aside to make room for a she-shark that digs my rockin’ shark abs.
  • Catalog my wardrobe that consists entirely of sleeveless shirts and backwards hats.  I mean, yeah, a hat isn’t backwards until you put it on your head backwards but don’t complicate the situation, bro.  Don’t contradict me bro.  I’m all hopped up on shark steroids and shark energy drinks so it puts me in a hella bad mood, bro.  FYI dude, you can’t go wrong with a backwards hat and a sleeveless shirt no matter how old you are.  Buy a metric shit ton of backwards hats and sleeveless shirts because they will complete your ensemble no matter how old your ass gets.
  • Get my ass a sweet spray on tan.  I am not a happy douche shark unless I am an orange douche shark.  Don’t blame me, bro.  The sun doesn’t reach the depths of the ocean where I live.  It’s not my fault you don’t know science, guy.
  • Talk to peeps on my bluetooth.  People are impressed by that shit, let me tell you.  When the fish see me with my bluetooth in, they’re all like, “Shit, that is one important douche shark because he can’t put the phone down for a minute and just swim.”
  • Ahh dude, you know what else is a good look bro dude guy?  I like to wear sunglasses but not over my eyes but on the tippy top of my head.  That way, I’m prepared for the sun.  The sun could attack at any minute but as long as those sunglasses are on the top of my head, I can just pull them down within seconds bro and then the sun is defeated.  I can only chill when I have my top of head sunglasses on.
  • I gotta spend at least five hours a day working on my shark car.  It’s a piece of shit from 1972 but I like to spend all my duckets on it.  Put some solid ass spinning gold rims on it.  Get some fuzzy ass dice and a horn that plays Limp Bizkit and tiger skin seat covers and big ass monster truck tires and, what?  Yo, eff you, bro.  Don’t be coming up here and telling me that for all that scratch I could just buy a brand new car.  That’s not how this douche shark rolls, son.
  • Pump those guns son.  Get your ass to the gym.  Work your muscles.  Give everyone unsolicited advice and when they aren’t interested then just say something like, “OK, fine, just keep doing it wrong then, bro” then be sure to snap at least a hundred and fifty photos of your gun pumping to throw up on Facebook.
  • While I do most of my travel by swimming because I’m a shark, I do from time to time enjoy a good cruise in my sweet ass tricked out 1972 shark ride.  When I do, I like to beep the shit out of my horn at the guy in front of me at the exact instant the light turns green.  I don’t even wait, bro.  Not thirty seconds.  Not a minute.  Just, “Green…BEEP!”  You gotta beep as soon as the light turns green, kid.  Otherwise the guy ahead of you won’t know what to do.  It’s not my fault people are stupid bro.  I blame the public school system and the asbestos and lead paint and whatnot.  So many people get stupid just by licking lead paint and asbestos its insane, bro.  It really is.

OK 3.5 bros, that’s all the douchy chillaxing advice I’ve got for you as of this moment in time, but if you’re a douche and you’ve got some advice on how to be a douche for all the other douches reading this shit then by all means, share in the comments, bro.

Until next time, I’ll be swimming up to some crunk ass parties uninvited and drinking all the beers, cuz.

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A Day in the Life of Douche Shark

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Douche Shark

Hey 3.5 bros.

Wassup? Wass good?  All up on the Bookshelf Battle Blog, my broheims.

Douche Shark here.  Yup. That’s right.  Dr. Hugo Von Science took the DNA of a shark and the DNA of a douche, spliced it all together and boom, you got yourselves a douche-shark-a-rino.

Not so bad being a douche shark though.  I usually wake up about noon, noon and a half, one p.m. at the latest.

I text my she-shark girlfriend that I’m dumping her cuz she got fat then I text a photo of my douche shark junk to a new fine honey she shark I got my eyes on.

Not gonna lie, brosef, lady sharks love a good pic of your shark junk.  I don’t make the rules. Don’t hate the douche shark playa, hate the douche shark game.

Oh and you know what else is good when you text your she-shark? Call her “bae” then drop like 9,229 emojis in there. I like to go all “smiley face, smiley face, smiley face, water pistol, poop with sunglasses.”  She-sharks love that.

Bonus points if you call your she-shark by the wrong name when you text her, bro.

Sure, she’ll be all mad when you’re like, “Wat up, Becky Shark?” and she’s all, “Eff U I’m Susie Shark” but that’s cool you just smooth it over with your talking skills and tell her she must have read it wrong or her phone is busted and shit or something.

So anyway, after I get off the phone with the lady sharks, its time for some nummy nums.  When I get hungry, I like to get myself a green smoothie. It’s good for the earth and my bowels.

Oh and then I follow that smoothie up by devouring at least twenty to thirty beach goers.  Maybe a surfer, maybe a sailor, whatever is there bro, no need to get picky cuz it all goes down the same hole and all comes out the other one if you know what I mean.

Am I right?  Am I right? Come on. Gimmie a high five. Come on bro. Don’t leave a douche shark hanging.

Aw but then after I eat, I gots to set my fantasy football lineup and spent at least three to seven hours telling everyone about how my fantasy football lineup is the best and their fantasy football lineup is the worst.

I can’t help it.  I am just a fabulously sexy douche shark who was blessed by Jesus with the ability to set quality fantasy football lineups.

After the lineup is set, I gots to take fifty nine selfies of myself in a whimsical manner. I take all the photos myself, but I stare my shark eyeballs off to the side so as to fool the dummies looking at my Sharkbook that someone else took the pictures and that I was very busy thinking deep, intellectual thoughts.

Oh speaking of Sharkbook, did I mention that I like to post photos of my green smoothies? Seven or eight will do.  Remember – always post photos of everything you eat or drink on Sharkbook.  Sharks will be very disappointed if you don’t.  Everyone must know about everything you eat at all times.

What else? What else?

Right, so after the selfies I like to head over to the shark gym, do a few curls, work on my bis, my tris, my lats, my delts, my fin.  Remember, its very important to grunt as loud as possible to let everyone in the gym know that you are the one lifting the most weight and therefore your workout is more important than everyone else’s workout.  It just is bro diddly, it just is.  And everyone needs to know it.

After that its off to the shark bar.  I like to smack the she-shark waitress on her tail fin because they like that, you know?  Really, they get disappointed if you don’t do it.

Then I order a frosty brew or two, tip the waitress with any pocket change I happen to have left over, and then I sing obscure karaoke songs until I pass the eff out and have to get dragged out of the bar by the shark police.

Good times, bro. Good times.

So that was a day in the life of a douche shark. Hope you enjoyed it, 3.5 bros. Of course you did.

You’re welcome.  High five!  Whoops, too slow, bro, too slow.

 

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