Every so often, we’ll revisit a post that attracted more than an average number of comments, and bubble some up to the main blog line. Today, we reviewed What Did You Do, Babalu, and what struck us was the way virtually all the commenters converged on a single epithet with which to disparage Babalu’s patrons. Because we strive to keep Wallyhood a “family friendly” blog, we won’t repeat it in this post, but simply follow the link above, read the comments and the pattern should be obvious.
Without prejudice towards or against the patrons themselves, it makes us enjoy the English language. You see, the commenters passed over many more common vulgarities for this one. They didn’t see the Babalusians as the end of a digestive tract, nor as possessing sub-normal intelligence, nor even as engaging in sexual intercourse. Rather, the word chosen was one who’s literal meaning is that of a feminine hygiene product.
And yet, as far from literal meaning as the connotative meaning is, it perfectly captures a particular type of person.
Charles V once said “I speak Spanish to God, Italian to women, French to men and German to my horse.” But would he have had to reach to English to find the right word for these pop-collared patrons?
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Because “enema nozzle” just doesn’t have that mellifluous roll, I suppose. Pity, as it’s more evocative of the fake-bake tan.
how can we make them go away?
Seriously people you have a problem with the nicely decorated drink lounge, but NOT with the bong shop up the street or the pizza place that doesn’t sell pizza?? Maybe you should take your angst to something that deserves it.
Dearest JN,
I’ve never had someone holding a bong rush lemming-like towards the business end of my vehicle, nor have I seen the cops called for disturbances to any of our Wallingford pizza shops. At least when the cops hit up Changes, it’s a Coldplay related disturbance (I do kind of sympathize with the perp in that little altercation). As and far as their decoration, they could have Rembrandt’s Night Watch hanging up in there for all I care and I’d still be pissed about that particular gin joint flooding the streets with ‘roid addled, machismo soaked frat boys looking to start trouble because they were hot down by the girl at the bar with the slightly uneven boob job and the bootleg Coach purse.
Truly Yours,
Flash
Everyone has their opinions, but when I was there the only customers were professional people. We never saw one frat boy in sight. I am not a regular, so I can’t say about the clientele or problems with the bar.
Who said anything about frat boys?
I think the website http://www.hotchickswithdouchebags.com/ will answer all your questions about the origin and meaning of the term, particularly if you scroll down to the Hall of Scrote and click on “Oompa Prompa” or (if your heart can stand it) “Fung”.