Douchebag Meatball Sub

Sexy Manwiches aren't only for my own sensual pleasure. Sometimes I feel it's my duty, neigh obligation, nope -- IT IS MY DESTINY -- to sometimes squish myself between a few douchebags for the good of mankind. Because then, and only then, will I be granted enough access to destroy them mercilessly with my womanliness.

First, I'd like Nic Cage to be meatball No. 1.



To say I effing HATE Nic Cage and wish a slow painful career death upon him is a gross understatement. He's just so gross and douchey and I hate his stupid face. I mean look at it. It's stupid. And the whole impregnating a young Asian cocktail waitress thing is just so cliche. I get it. Old perverts love hot Asian women. It's lame. Oh, and he sucks in every movie he's been in, not just the atrocity known as Bangkok Dangerous. Some people will try to throw out the "Oh but he was good in Leaving Las Vegas. I mean, he won an Oscar" excuse. To that I say the Oscars don't mean shit. He sucked in that movie, and I punch anyone who says he didn't. I don't even care. I'll get gangsta on that ass. This is why I'd like him in my douchie meatball manwich. So I could look him upon that face whilst I strangle him with my whale-like mammaries.

The next doucheball I feel obliged to add to this submarine sandwich of douchiness is none other than the nastiness that is John Clayton Mayer.



I would be doing not only Jennifer Aniston a huge service, but the world over as well, by destroying this man. Again, look at his stupid face. Oh, he's such a douchenozzle it hurts my soul. And the stupid looks he pulls when he's delighting roofied college girls with his boner jam "Your Body is a Wonderland" are priceless. I can't tell if he's defecating himself, or has a Thai hooker in his pants providing him oral pleasure, and herpes I hope. He's so gross. Why any of these famous women hook up with him is beyond me. So I must kill him -- with my sandwich loving imagination.


The last meatball in this manwich belongs to a simple man. A man that really means no harm, but nonetheless causes it with his horrible, ear-bleedingly high-pitched voice. Yes, children. He who must be called James Blunt, for that is his name.



Not only does he sound like a pussy, he looks like one too. I bet rainbows and sunny mornings make him weep like an effing schoolgirl. I am a pretty small girl and I'm positive I can whoop this bitch's ass. Seriously, when I hear one of his songs, I grow a second vagina he's that much of a pussy. I hate the word pussy, but there's no other word to describe him and thus I am forced to use it repeatedly. For this, James Blunt, you must suffer. Pussy.