Isn’t the Intertoobez wonderful? Otherwise we’d likely never know about this pricless but of Douthat-ism.

Ross Douthat: The Barbara Cartland of wingnut guys. (The only thing that’s missing are the pink poodles….)

“like a bag of sand.”

Brad writes, “What squicks me out is (a) that the real turnoff for Ross Douthat is that she has taken responsibility for her own fertility and gone on the pill…”

I don’t think that’s it. Ross writes:

My throat was dry from too much vodka, and her breasts, spilling out of pink pajamas, threatened my ability to [want her].

Ross couldn’t get it up and blames the sexual assertiveness of his partner. Not only does he blame her assertiveness, he characterizes his willing partner as unsavoury garbage unworthy of him. (Well he pretty much has to denigrate her, otherwise he’d look silly. First he describes a pretty celebrity lookalike openly wanting HIM. What’s his problem?)

I pity the woman (if she exists) reading this recollection, for surely she’d identify herself and that’s probably his point and hope. I say “if she exists” because men have been known to embellish and make shit up about their so-called conquests. Usually, and especially when they’ve failed.

Or, he’s *ahem* gay.

This brings to mind the legendary rant by Douchebag Dan Collins. Ross hasn’t sunk quite to that low but he’s heading there. (Boy, those threads were fun.)

She had me at “pill.”

As for Rossie D. — success = disgust?

Boy, I don’t know where you got that movie poster, but it’s a keeper!

Ross Douthat: the guy who actually believed all the BS they told him in Abstinence Education class. That deathless prose passage is our tax dollars at work, producing a new generation of He-Man Woman Haters clubs.

ANOTHER self hating reichwing closet case. Assuming she actually existed, he shoulda left that poor woman alone and just gone and blown a down low republican committeeman. Itz not like they’re difficult to find.

That sentence (fragment) really annoys me, too.

My throat was dry from too much vodka, and her breasts, spilling out of pink pajamas, threatened my ability to.

Is he too genteel to even use some kind of euphemism; consummate, perform, fulfill, something?

Dear Douthat Forum,

I was a third-year freshman at a small Midwestern college. An assertive lesbian tried to fuck me. She tried to sap my essence. I remain strong.

Yours,
A Fan

Thank jebus I only went to Lafayette. Dodged a bullet there.

Apparently having more “brains” up top makes you a sterile, sexless freakshow candidate down where the action is.

I mean, at the point of full breasts cascading from pink pajamas, what kind of sick, twisted eunuch is actually thinking?

Especially after allegedly drinking enough vodka to choke oneself (another Douthatian misfortune I have thankfully never encountered)?

To say nothing of being disgusted by the whole “sordid” affair?

I think someone’s groundhog didn’t emerge to see his shadow…probably still hasn’t…

After a night with me at that age, that full-breasted, pink-pajama’ed chunky Reesey piece of delicious candy would have definitely lost some weight.

Is all I’m saying.

PS–we kicked Harvard’s pansy crimson asses when we played them in rugby.

Just another item in the litany of the things the men of Lafayette College do better, longer and harder.

Sorry about the alpha maleisms, but reading that horrid confessional just made me so happy that I’m not a giant Harvard douchebag like Ross Douthat.

He actually wrote about being disgusted by an attack on his person by a strong woman who had made her decision to control her sexuality, to not be a virginal wallflower and to take advantage of her youthful desire to fuck Ross Douthat.

Hmmm…

Perhaps we shouldn’t put too much stock in this particular woman’s judgement.

Lafayette Maroon RFC represent!111!11!

Oh G-d, that was perfect! (And Playboy has a bit of advance notice for its cover story, “Sluts of Harvard.”)

Also, I think if her breasts were “spilling out” of her pajamas, Ross I-Doubt-That could have at least been gentlemanly enough to catch them before they hit the floor. Catch and release, right?

ewwwww !

Why is she in her pajamas? Something doesn’t seem right here. Either she’s got clothes on and is taking them off, or he burst into someone’s pajama party (with vodka, apparently). But even whores don’t generally wear pajamas to regular drinking parties.

Just call me skeptical.

It’s an old joke innit: How do you recognize a Harvard man in the dark?
It’s not hard.
Sounds like he cribbed this from one of his Mom’s paperback romances. Especially the spilling breasts part.

It’s the old christian martyr syndrome. I am beset by temptresses, their sinfulness disgusts me, my dysfunction is excused by my saintliness…take me now Jeebus, end my pain and humiliation.

A half-naked, plump-chested Reese Witherspoon lookalike sucking on his neck and face, inviting him to have his way with her rendered Douthat “bored” and “disgusted”? Really?

Does he realize he’s gay?

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

“Do most Harvard guys take so long to get what they want?” she had asked, pushing her tongue into my mouth.

Pretty sure this would have come out, “Boo note Habah duys nake no nong do det mah ney wa?” which is decidedly unerotic. Rudimentary Action Description Fail.

You know, by the time you’ve got Chunky Reese Witherspoon spilling her knockers out of her jammies on a guest bed, you’re kinda committed. You’ve already expressed interest, as it were. A gentleman does not at this point back out. One’s duty lies in clear outline before one.

she nibbled at my ear and whispered–”You know, I’m on the pill…”

“Noo gnow, I’b odd da bill…”

I can’t wait to hear Ross write about the economy and foreign policy in light of this ancient piece of his. Featuring Tim Geithner as the chunkier Reese Witherspoon, no doubt…

has the utter lack of self-awareness of these yo-yos come up before? Who would write that where anyone could see it and not feel like a complete dumbass?

And yet, like Bloody Billy Kristol, he’ll still be invited to share his wisdom on various radio shows and in newspapers (he’s replacing the Bloody One at the NYT, after all). who decided that what’s really missing from the marketplace of ideas is the gibbering of intellectual shutins and emotional cripples like these bozos?

“One successful foray ended on the guest bed of a high school friend’s parents…”

Oh yay, we can look forward to more of “The Drunken Erotic Misadventures of Lady Douthat.”

To rip off something said in a thread elsewhere, “if he were any further in the closet he be in Narnia…”

Dear Penthouse Forum,
I never thought this would happen to me. I’m the editorial page editor of a major newspaper (sometime called the “Paper of Record.” I’d just broken up with a man I’ll call Billy, because he was a lying weasel who couldn’t even keep his lies straight. Then along came Ross, a young, handsome Harvard man. Well, I put on my best pink pajamas and we started drinking vodka. But when it came down to it, he couldn’t perform.

I am going to give Ross the benefit of the doubt and say that with his wife it isn’t like that, since he clearly knows what marriage means.

Substitute Mitt Romney-lookalike for Reese Witherspoon-lookalike, and I bet this tale ends quite differently.

I just read it again…

and her breasts… threatened my ability to.”

Threatening breasts. Threatening…breasts.

When you’re writing Closet-Case Impotence Porn, the devil is in the details.

707

Thanks for that laugh. Now I can start my day.

Even putting on my secular liberal hat (I have a good one for this purpose which barely covers anything), I suspect that TBogg is getting close in this post to Bill Maher who cheerfully assumes that men don’t want to say “no”. Why would we have marriage, or the whole tradition of romantic love, if men didn’t want to say “no”?

TBogg should have named the post “Bring on the Boobs” just to see how many people got confused when they saw the link to the previous post.

There are plenty of legitimate reasons for anyone to say “no”, but the scene Douthat describes isn’t one of them.

No use crying over spilled boobs.

But Neddie Jingo, channelling S.J.Perlman (”she nibbled at my ear and whispered–”You know, I’m on the pill…”

“Noo gnow, I’b odd da bill…””)

Was my belly laugh for the day.

You have to understand that Brad was a Harvard Man himself, but always a gentleman, so he takes this kind of personally.

aimai

I wasn’t sure what to say, but then I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted. My throat was dry from too much vodka, and her breasts, spilling out of pink pajamas, threatened my ability to.

It took me several tries to figure out where the wheels came off the wagon on this one, but I think I got it. “Threatened my ability to” is actually linked to “I wasn’t sure what to say,” but there’s just too much distance in between the two clauses to easily read them together.

Also: it is unclear if the writer was merely being distracted by titties or if the breasts were advancing on his piehole like little peach tanks.

Note: personally cheering for Option #2.

This just begs for Chris Muir to illustrate it, doesn’t it?

In both cases, their talent level isn’t quite what they think it is.

Clearly Ross doesn’t subscribe to the notion that there’s no wrong way to eat Reese’s.

I believe this episode formed the basis for the play “No Sex Please, We’re Douthats.”

I guess Ross’ new nickname will be Ross “I don’t” Douthat.

There are plenty of legitimate reasons to say “yes”, too, but I can’t for the life of me imagine why Ross went as far as he did with it. Did it take him that long to realize he didn’t like her? If you’re on the bed before you realize what you’re feeling is “disgust”, you have no business dating anyone till you see a shrink.

I got somethin’ to say that’s gonna cause you pain.
‘Cos if I catch you flashin’ me your tits again,
I’m gonna run away and leave you flat.
(Gonna run away and leave you flat.)
Because I told you before,
Oh, I don’t Douthat.

I’m guessing that Ross’s mother didn’t go to Smith College because, as they used to say way back in the day, “when better men are made Smith women will make them.”

My dear ol’ gran’pappy always told me, in his best broken English, “Figlio mio, the only ones you gonna regret are the ones you turn down.”

I don’t care if they look like Elsie the Cow, these are words to live by.

Hilarious

I some how feel Douthat left out the part that involved $500 and a pimp standing outside of a motel room.

because someone who’s behaving like a gentleman doesn’t take a woman to bed for the first time when she’s too drunk to function, and someone who takes a woman to bed for the first time when she’s too drunk to function and then doesn’t have sex with her because it turns him off that he can’t knock her up is not acting like much of a gentleman?

Somewhere, John Lennon’s shade is laughing.

Let me see here . . . clumsy sexual encounter . . . self-interpreted to mean he has higher morals than the woman involved . . . epic fail(on many levels) . . . bragging about said fail . . . difficulty in writing a coherent English sentence . . . who does this remind me of, well many conservative writers but the doughy pantload really fits this profile.

Ladys and gentlemen, the Times is proud to bring you = Doughhat pantload

C’mon Tbogg, print more of it. I want to read the part where she rips his bodice off!

“Sounds like he cribbed this from one of his Mom’s paperback romances. Especially the spilling breasts part.”

Yes! He just substituted “pajamas” for “bodice”.

another chump to add to your twitter list. Chris Muir’s tweets are even lamer than his drawings of tit.

http://twitter.com/daybydaycartoon

As the psychiatrist on “Fawlty Towers” observed, “There’s enough material here for a conference.”

Well, she was drinking. Take that into consideration.

and then whatever residual enthusiasm I felt for the venture dissipated, with shocking speed,
I’ve never heard premature ejaculation described that way, but it works for D’AssHat

Douchethat’s essay is perfect fodder for Jezebel’s crap email from a dude.

Did this “happen” in Canada? During Summer camp?

Ross Douchehat left out the part where this was the night he and his friend accidently started the “2 Girls, 1 Cup” phenomenon.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2_Girls_1_Cup

And now, with him and Kristolnacht sharing the same space, we’ve got “2 Dispshits, 1 Column.” Full circle!

Douchehat choosing the name “Wither”spoon when talking about his sexual ability certainly wasn’t a Freudian slip. Nah, couldn’t be…

Wow, this twerp is gonna be too easy. Wonder how much he’ll be getting paid? And people still try to make the case with me that BigMedia like the NYT actually care about readership or ratings. Exhibit #14,546 that they now exist solely to push ideology on the electorate. Profit has nothing to do with it.

At this point, my default assumption is that all American conservatives are closet cases. Douthat certainly sounds like one.

Agreed!