Like Fishman has said on two occasions now, this is a project we has been in the works for quite some time, but one that we could never organize properly.

So we’re just throwing you 100 (or more … or less) of the Biggest Douchebags of All-Time in no particular order.

Enjoy, and be on the look out for more!

Carnies

These folks are actually a credit to the Carnie species

Do I even need to explain this one?

Is there a lower form of life than people that travel around the country with the likes of two-bit rides such as the Gravitron and the Zipper? And the name … Carnie. It sounds much more demeaning than any ethnic slur I’ve ever heard.

“Hey … CARNIE! … get your ass over here and fetch me my slippers.”

Man, if someone said that to me, it would be grounds for busting out the whoopin’ stick.

These inbred-looking inbred motherfuckers always have a nasty disposition too. Like they’re pissed off to be working the local fair for the 9,776th consecutive night. Sheesh, take my four tickets and let me on the haunted mansion already, piss-ant.

The worst breed of the schmucks are the ones that man the carnival game section. You know the ones. They’ll call you stretch, grandma, or freckle-face depending on the most basic of your characteristics. Basically like the nicknames that George W. Bush gives out the White House Press Corps, which says something about the state of America. God dammit, we let a CARNIE into the Oval Office.

It’s hard to believe that every year millions of Americans put their lives in the hands of these side-show freaks. We willingly go on rides that make up the deadly triumvirate of high-speeds, loose lugnuts, and semi-retarded operators. It’s a recipe for disaster.

Call me an elitist, but I just think that Carnies should be segregated from the rest of society. Separate water fountains, separate schools, separate movie theatres … the whole schpeel. I mean really, do YOU want to share a toilet with someone that’s job description is “watching people shoot water into a clown’s mouth until a balloon pops?” I think not.

But hey, you know what, when we’re on their grounds; fairs, carnivals, and West Virginia, it’s fine with me to let them have their little moment in the sun.

Sure, buddy, hold that giant stuffed pink hippo above my head. Give me the “David the Gnome” pog and tell me that I have to trade it in and win 17 more times while giving up 50 bucks to get the pink hippo.

At the end of the day, I’m going to sleep in my bed while you can go catch some winks in the control booth of the Gravitron.

Piss-ant.

Shadow

I’m a dog guy through and through. I think that even if I were petting a dog, and it proceeded to tear my face off with its mighty jaws, I’d still be like, “aw nice, dog, good boy, sorry for offending you” as I picked my nose and left eyeball off the ground.

With that said, I fucking HATE Shadow the golden retriever from the film, Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey. Wow, what a colossal prick this dog is.

Instant Classic

For those that have never been so lucky to have seen the masterpiece that is Homeward Bound, it is essentially the tale of three animals (two dogs and a cat) going across the country … or some shit … to find their owners. The owners were moving to a new house, so they left the dogs with their auntie and uncle on a farm while they finished the moving process. Kind of pointless, but what do you expect from a family that consists of a poor man’s Big Pete from “Pete and Pete” and a woman that acted in a Sinbad movie?

Shadow is a crotchety old man of a dog, and does not like what is going on. Despite the fact that these dogs and cat can talk to each other in English using some type of telepathic means (think: Garfield), Shadow can’t comprehend what his masters are saying to him. He thinks its goodbye. Senile old bitch.

To make Shadow even more of a douche, they used Don Ameche to voice him. So not only does he look like an old goat of a dog, he sounds like your Grandpappy too and never hesitates to give a sermon on how to live your life.

Yes, this guy really voiced Shadow

Chance, a freakish looking dog voiced by none other than Michael J. Fox, is the bane of Shadow’s existence. He’s the puppy yin to Shadow’s geriatric yang. Sassy, a stupid fucking cat, rounds out the group. I’ve never cheered for death more than when Sassy, voiced by the equally obnoxious Sally Field, plummeted down a waterfall.

But I digress. Shadow gets all up in arms (or should I saw PAWS!) when him, Chance and Sassy get stuck by themselves on the farm. He doesn’t like it one bit, no siree, and he proclaims this out loud (or telepathically I guess, since these animals don’t move their mouths when they talk) to anyone who will listen. So, of course, he convinces the other two to bounce outta there right before the fam comes back to pick them up.

Classic.

The three proceed to have adventures all over the country, and Disney probably won the award for Most Animal Abuse in one film. I watched this madness again not too long ago, and some of the shit that happens is really sick. Makes me want to kick Eisner’s ass even more than I do already.

18 animals were lost filming this scene

But back to Shadow one last time. After seven shots of Wild Turkey topped off with one of battery acid, the highlight of the film is the scene were Shadow is “playing” basketball with his beloved kid in the family, and “says” “I’m gonna get it! I’m gonna get it!” in reference to the basketball. You just have to see it.

Man, what a douchebag that Shadow is.

There’s a sequel to this film where the trio gets lost in San Francisco of all places. I’ve never seen it, but I heard that Shadow is really senile by this point and goes down to the docks looking to hook up with sailors while wearing one of those gay dog sweaters. Pretty brutal stuff. Needless to say, the family should have put his ass down before the move.

People that make toy commercials for kids

I’ll be the first to admit that a good marketing plan can really get me to buy in. If you can get me hyped up, I will be all about your product.

This was especially true when I was a kid. And nothing sold me better than sweet-ass toy commercials. Whoever directed these things (I imagine a 46-year-old portly balding male with a ponytail) knew what they were doing when it came to getting kids fired up.

The commercials that come to mind first were the one for the Dino Riders toy line. Now, you might not remember Dino Riders, I really don’t know anyone else that played with them besides myself and my brother, but rest assured that it was a kick ass toy line. And when it came to me and my brother, if something had anything to do with dinosaurs, WE WERE FUCKING IN.

So, as you watch the video(s) below, it should come as no surprise to you that we were instantly hooked by the dinosaur propaganda.

But the thing is, how the FUCK were you supposed to create that kind of landscape? Where the hell are these kids playing with the toys? Planet Zeenoobob? I always wondered that. The all-out war portrayed in the commercial looks a lot different when it is staged from your bedroom. Instead of falling boulders and miniature trees, I had a fluffy blue rug and a picture of Pappy on my wall. Not the kind of stuff that inspires Krulon to annihilate Questar and his band of goody goodies.

Gotta love Vitsie

The only chance you had at somewhat re-creating this kind of atmosphere was taking your collection outside. But in doing so, you knew that there was going to be a casualty of war. Either Leonardo’s katanas would be lost, Peter Venkman’s arm would fall off after an incident with a rock, or, as in my case, your brother would literally take a shit on Luke the Bushwacker. Always an adventure.

Furthermore, these kids in the commercials always had multiples of the bit toys. For instance, there is a handful of Dimetredons in the above commercial. That’s bogus. What kid actually had the funds to go out and buy multiples of toys? When I had money, I made sure I wasn’t getting the same fucking thing that I already had. This probably came up in the TMNT world as well. I mean come on, who the hell wanted only one foot soldier? I remember saying to myself that I would try and save up to get five of them to make it realistic. Yeah, right, like that ever happened. Playing with one foot soldier against any of the Turtles was instant domination. That foot soldier was like the Barry Horowitz or Dwayne Gill of the toy world. Fodder for a royal ass-kicking.

In the end though, I can’t really complain. These commercials are just too damn cool. I actually give kudos to all involved. They may have forced me (or my parents more likely) to fork over an obscene amount of dough for plastic pieces, but in the end it was all worth it. Here are some more Dino Rider commercials for your viewing pleasure.

Questions or comments? Harness the power? Hit me up at BuffaloByrne@gmail.com