Talk about your classic screw ups.

Larry Zierlein is just entering his first year on the job as offensive line coach for the Pittsburgh Steelers of the NFL. And guess what? The team hasn’t even played a game yet and he is already screwing up. That’s because he has had to apologize recently for sending an “inappropriate e-mail” to a ton of unintended destinations.

It seems Mr. Zierlein received an e-mail attachment recently from a friend in the organization that contained a pornographic video clip. Instead of savoring it and keeping it to himself, this bonehead used his team-issued laptop to forward it on…only he accidentally sent it to a few high-level team employees. Oh yeah, and the Commissioner of the National Football League, Roger Goodell.

Busted!

So, yeah, Larry Zierlein has had to apologize now.

“It’s hard because I made an inexcusable mistake,” Zierlein said. “It was hard first for the organization…. and my family, for what they’re going to have to hear.”

No, Larry, it wasn’t hard for the organization or for your family. It was hard because you are a dirty old man who just received his first sex video in an e-mail. Boy oh boy!!

But like all people caught in a crazy situation, Zierlein makes it worse by lying. Larry, why didn’t you just delete the file?

“It was 100 percent unintentional,” Zierlein said. “I’m not very good at these machines and I hit the wrong button. There’s nothing else to say, no other explanation.”

Yeah, you hit the wrong button all right. Idiot.

But it’s cool, Lar. I’ve got a piece of advice for you. Next time you get a hot piece of porn in your inbox and your erection lasts for more than 4 hours, DO NOT forward the e-mail. Consult your doctor instead. Jesus, man, haven’t you seen those commercials?

It’s a lazy kind of day for me. And when things are moving slow and there doesn’t seem to be much to write about, I can always look for inspiration next door.

The douchebag next door, that is.

You may remember him from a previous story when I wrote about him playing loud music with his young daughter in the car. Well, because the douchebagginess of his ways provide me with almost limitless material, I am back today with another story. Today it’s about the douchebag and his dog.

Yes, they have a dog next door. It’s a little dog and, although I am an animal lover, I don’t know the breed. What I do know is that he is dirty, he smells bad and he is annoying. And I’m not talking about the dog, either.

Just kidding. I actually am talking about the dog. Even though his douchebag owner probably does have most of the same qualities.

So, yeah, this dog. His name is Oscar and all he does is yip and bark. But just the barking is not what makes it so annoying. It’s the times they let him outside to do his barking. When, you ask? Try 2 am.

It’s so aggravating. Who let’s their dog outside at two in the morning to wake the neighborhood up? And it’s not just that they let him out. He stays out. He’ll be out there for 30 minutes or sometimes an hour. Barking, barking, barking. He barks from the second they let him out until they open the door to let him back in.

And sometimes he even escapes the yard. When he gets out of the gate, he just walks throughout the neighborhood. I can hear him sometimes down the street and around the block he’s so loud. I know I’m not the only one who is getting woke up night after night by this mutt. But do his owners fix the gate so he can’t get out? No. Do they let him in after a few minutes instead of letting him wake the neighborhood up at 2 am? No. They’re idiots!

So I guess I can’t really blame the dog. Dogs bark. And if they can get out of their fenced in yard, they’ll do it. So I’m not mad at Oscar as much as I am furious at his moron owners.

Still, though, I have a confession to make. A couple of nights ago I was woken by his barking and I just had to do something. I wasn’t going to go pounding on anyone’s door and demand they let their dog in. Although, admittedly, maybe I should have. I just didn’t feel like arguing in the middle of the night. So, instead, what I did was this: I walked into my kitchen, filled a glass full of water, went out into my yard and flung the water all over this dog.

Pretty funny, huh? I just couldn’t take it anymore. And I’ll tell you what…it worked. The dog didn’t even see where the water came from. And he shut up right away. I wonder if, when he was brought back inside, the douchebag next door asked himself how the dog got drenched? It sure as hell wasn’t raining out there.

Anyway, I don’t know what is going to happen next. But I know this: If that dog wakes me up again next week and I feel like drenching him with water, this time I’ll use the hose. And if that douchebag next door happens to see me? Well, he’ll get it too.

The votes are in. The results have been tallied. The people have spoken. It’s official…Joe Francis, the creator of “Girls Gone Wild,” is BabesWithDouchebags.com’s April Douchebag of the Month!!

And what an easy choice it was. Joe Francis, you see, has had a rather busy month. For one thing, he is currently under investigation for federal tax evasion. He allegedly deducted 20 million worth of fake business expenses on his 2002 and 2003 corporate tax returns, see?

But that’s not all.

He has gone through a civil lawsuit brought against him by several underage women whom he illegally videotaped for his “Girls Gone Wild” schtick. And he got in even more trouble during the proceedings when he cursed out the judge and the opposing attorneys, eventually being slapped with a contempt of court violation for his troubles.

He was also caught up in a bit of a bribery scandal when he tried to offer a prison guard a $100 for a bottle of water. The guard noticed a stash of pills he wasn’t supposed to have and now Francis’s friend, Scott Barbour, is on the hook for illegally smuggling in the pills and cash.

But there is some justice for douchebags like this. Not only do they receive our “Douchebag of the Month” award, but they also get hassled by cop killers while in jail.

That’s right. Joe Francis, who is allegedly “breaking down” and “going crazy,” is being harassed by a cellmate. One Robert Bailey, a convicted murderer of a police officer who is sentenced to death, has apparently been harassing Francis by screaming out “Girls Gone Wild! Joe Francis! Whoo!” all day and all night long.

Hilarious! And it serves him right.

So congratulations, Joe Francis. This is what your life has come to. Videotaping underage girls for your stupid video schlock, civil lawsuits, contempt of court violations, tax evasion charges and bribery scandals. But at least you have the BabesWithDouchebags “Douchebag of the Month Award” to hang your hat on now.

Karma really can be a bitch, huh?

Yes, the time has come…for YOU to tell US who is going to be April’s Douchebag of the Month!! You may remember that last month it was Tom Cruise. It was the perfect choice, even among the many worthy competitors.

But who do we have on tap this month? Well, we have “reality tv” star Jason Wahler, who was arrested for a drunken fight this month in Washington.

Aside from just being an idiot, he also called one of the arresting officers a “ni*ger,” a “fa*got,” and, of course, a “poor fu*k.”

We also have “Girls Gone Wild” creator Joe Francis, who was sentenced earlier this month for taping several underage girls in various stages of undress.

There was British dentist Alan Hutchinson, who urinated in his surgery sink and used his dental tools to clean his teeth and fingernails.

We reported on Justin Timberlake being, well, like Justin Timberlake. So, enough said there.

There have been plenty of worthy choices. But there can be only one Douchebag of the Month. So, look over some of our April reports or even submit your own candidate. We want to hear from you. Leave us a comment and tell us who you want to see as April’s Douchebag of the Month.

Thanks!

SEE MORE CHOICES HERE:

Howard K. Stern

The Douchebag Next Door

The Legend of Speedy

I can’t tell you his real name, but I can tell you that everyone called him Speedy. The reason was simple: He was addicted to speed.

I first heard about the legend of Speedy from my parents, who were coworkers of his at a factory job they had together. He was always moving, moving, moving. Fast, fast, fast.

And he was a dirty man, too. Not just in the traditional this-guy-doesn’t-seem-to-shower-much kind of dirty, either, although I have heard he did smell weird. This was the kind of dirty that you normally either see or hear about coming out of the locker room. His mind was completely occupied by just one thing: Sex.

He liked to talk about sex, joke about sex and turn just about any conversation into an innuendo about sex. In other words, he was a true talent in the douchebag subculture.

So, that’s how I first heard about him. But I first saw the Legend of Speedy for myself at a greasy spoon type of diner years later, when I was about 14 years old. I was having a Gyro and fries at Charlie’s Coney Island when my parents noticed that the busboy across the room was none other than Speedy himself. He apparently looked very much the same from when they last saw him. From what I could gather, that meant he always had greasy, unkempt hair, the scraggly remnants of a beard, and a rather large and protruding gut that peeked out from under his shirt. Yes, Speedy was a real head turner. Although I bet the heads were usually turning to look away.

Not mine, though. Not today. I had heard so much about him, I couldn’t help but watch his every move. He would move at around Mach 5 from table to table, clearing the dirty dishes and wiping the table surface down with a wet rag. But what was funny about it was that, every time he wiped the table, he would mutter, rather loudly yet to himself, “Sonofabitch, sonofabitch, sonofabitch.” Then he would walk away and head to the next table where he would start the routine all over again.

So just picture this fast moving, wild eyed pig of a man wiping down a table furiously and with great speed all the while mumbling “son of a bitch” over and over. Only, Speedy was saying it so fast it was like the there were no spaces between them. The phrase “son of a bitch” took on its own life and just became one incredibly long compound word. “Sonofabitchsonofabitchsonofabitch.”

I don’t know what happened to Speedy why he appeared to have gone so mental. But I know he didn’t seem to be so obsessed with sex anymore. Or, at least, so I thought.

I saw him for the last time just a few years ago. No longer wiping down tables and saying “son of a bitch,” he had moved on to working in the frozen foods section of Meijer. Perfect place for him, right?

Anyway, here’s what happened. Speedy was seemingly minding his own business as I watched him from afar. He was putting away Swanson microwave dinners or something, not once saying “son of a bitch,” as far as I could tell. Just then, a female shopper was grabbing a few things out of the freezer next to him when one of her items slipped out of her hands and to the floor. Stepping slightly away from her cart, the woman bent over to pick up the product. In retrospect, she should have bent at the knees. She didn’t. She bent over at the waist, causing her butt to stick up in the air.

And Speedy didn’t even hesitate.

Seeing the woman’s rump just a few feet away from him, he quickly sprung into action. He immediately stopped what he had been doing, stood directly behind the woman, and proceeded to give her 3 or 4 good “humps.” Yes, Speedy was simulating the act of sex on a woman he didn’t even know…right in the middle of the frozen foods aisle of Meijer.

Well, the woman seen him and just flipped out! But who could blame her? She went ballistic on him. Yelling, screaming, probably even cursing. She wanted the manager! She wanted this man fired! This was an outrage!

I stuck around just long enough for the manager, who had apparently overheard the commotion, to come over and ask what had happened. So while I can’t say for sure that he was fired right there on the spot, I do believe that is likely what happened. I never saw him again.

I don’t know where Speedy is today, but I’ll never forget him. How can you forget a guy with a legend like that? And one who lives up to it, nonetheless, right? But wherever he is and whatever he is doing, I’m sure he’s doing things the only way he knows how: Fast!

At Babes With Douchebags, we know it can be tough for guys to approach interesting women. It’s true, women can be intimidating. They’re pretty, they smell nice, they’re desireable…but, at the same time, we have absolutely no idea what they are thinking. That makes it tough to start a conversation.

This is where we come in. We want to help you. And we are going to do just that by talking about pickup lines.

Now, first things first, I want to deflate a myth. Pickup lines do not work. Let me say that again so it gets through. Pickup lines DO NOT work. They have never worked. I know of exactly zero credibly documented experiences in which a girl was swept off her feet with a single pre-planned line. Girls are smarter and much more sophisticated than that.

What women like is not a clever line. They like confidence. They like for guys to notice and be interested in them. So, for you to get to know a girl better, you have to embody these characteristics. You have to be the confident guy who notices and is interested by her.

But how do you do that? I’ll explain: You follow the C.H.I.N. Protocol.

C.H.I.N.

Let’s start with the C. It stands for confidence. What you have to do is eliminate all thoughts from your mind that you are approaching a woman you are interested in. If that is what you’re thinking about, you doom yourself to failure. You’ll likely stutter or be clumsy or otherwise come across as not too sharp.

Instead, think of it as just two people talking. It will help you focus and not be too nervous. You are not a guy and she is not the cutest girl you have ever seen. You are merely two people engaged in a conversation.

Confidence, then, is paramount. It is perhaps the most important step in the C.H.I.N. Protocol. So cultivate it within yourself and proceed onward.

Next, we come to H. Where confidence is all about how you approach the girl, the H is all about how to start the conversation. “Hello.” That’s it! It’s simple. Hello is the most painless “pickup line” ever invented. It isn’t threatening and I swear you’ll get a better response than if you walk up and say, “Do you know what would look good on you? Me.”

The good thing about H is that you can use variations. Hello works fine, but if you are more comfortable with “Hi” or “How are you?” or something along those lines, that is okay.

Now, before we proceed on, let’s talk a bit more about what NOT to say. As I remarked earlier, pickup lines are just about useless. Here are several you may have heard of, but which will never work:

1) Are those space pants? Cuz your ass is out of this world!

2) Do you have a mirror in your pocket? Because I could see myself in your pants.

3) True, there are a lot of fish in the sea, but you’re the only one I’d like to catch and mount back at my place.

4) How would you like your eggs tomorrow morning? Scrambled or fertilized?

5) I wish you were a screen door so I could slam you all day long.

There are few things in life that are a guarantee. But saying these types of thing to a girl, especially one you are interested in, is a guarantee to get hit in the mouth. Or walked out on. Or have a drink thrown in your face. Heck, maybe all three. So,
keep it simple and just go with “hello” instead.

The I in C.H.I.N. stands for Intelligent Inquiries. In other words, asking smart questions. This goes back to what I was saying before: girls like for a guy to show interest in them. And what better way to show interest than to ask them good questions?

I’ll give you an example. Everyone likes music, right? So ask her what kind of music she enjoys. Who are some of her favorite performers? If you are intelligent enough and know something about the things she talks about, well, all the better! Now you have something in common. And related interests are always a great building block in a relationship.

What you NEVER want to do is ask STUPID questions. For instance, do not say, “Dude, heh heh heh, what size is your bra?” Okay? NEVER! She might slap you, but I will beat you up. You got that? So do the right thing and keep it intelligent.

That brings us to final step in the C.H.I.N. Protocol. The N. The N is simply this: No Neanderthals. Seriously, be up front with the girl. But don’t be a grunt with a club and try to take her back to your cave. She is, after all, a girl you like. She is not a piece of meat or any other type of possession.

So be respectful. Be polite. Be the good guy that you already know you are. Don’t “accidentally” keep nudging her boob or pinching her butt when she turns around. You’re a good guy! Not one of the brutes she deals with every other day of the week. If she’s worth your time, she’ll be thankful to have you around. And if she’s thankful, that means you’ll be thankful, too. Because you’ll know that learning about painless pickup lines and the C.H.I.N. Protocol here at BabesWithDouchebags.com was the wisest choice you’ve made in years.

Good luck!

“Stop it! God, you treat me like a piece of meat!”

Those are the words a girl yelled out during a gathering of friends I attended a week or two ago. She was upset with her boyfriend who, while he held her in his arms, continued to grab and slap her butt.

It went on continuously off and on for about an hour. She would be on his lap and suddenly I would hear her say, “Quit!” He would giggle and she would then go back to talking to another person at the party. Moments later: “Cut it out! God!” But barely before a moment passed since her latest outburst, her boyfriend’s hands were heading down there again.

“Stop it! God, you treat me like a piece of meat!”

Yet there she remained in his lap. I don’t get it. Why do girls put up with this? Not only is she uncomfortable, but it makes everyone else uncomfortable, too.

You find yourself wanting to say something to the guy. Anything, really. But mostly something like, “If you don’t leave her alone, I’m going to strangle you.” But you know that it really isn’t your place. She is, after all, forgiving the behavior by continuing to be cradled by him the whole time. Would she have gotten up in anger, it would have been a different story. But she didn’t. Therefore, it continued on.

But, jeez, when is this caveman type of behavior going to stop? It’s one thing for these douchebags to act out their fantasies behind closed bedroom doors. I mean, if saying stuff like, “Ooga booga. Woman mine. Ooga booga,” turns you and your girl on, fine. Have at it. But, please, spare the rest of us your public displays of barely post-Jurassic idiocy.

If you really want to act like a hunchback in a loincloth, at least try to be more like Tarzan. Tarzan was cool. He hung out with animals and he actually treated Jane with respect. More so than you do your girlfriend, anyway. In fact, we should all try to be more like Tarzan of the Apes. He helped people out. But until then, I’m left with just one more piece of wisdom for you and your ilk: “Me Tarzan. You douchebag.”

Sums it up pretty well, I think.

Do you remember that Matthew McConaughey movie from 2005 called “Sahara”? If so, you’re one of the few. It kinda tanked at the box office.

But that’s not the story here.

What I’m here to talk about are the reports flying out of the L.A. Times about the ridiculous expenditures demanded by the film’s stars.

We all know that celebrities can be a little needy sometimes. And we know that film studios will shell out big bucks just to keep their stars happy. Well, take a look at just HOW happy McConaughey and co-star Penelope Cruz were:

Glenn Bunting, of the Times, reports that Matt apparently needed a personal trainer and his own chef on the set with him. The glorified aerobics instructor cost a whopping $67, 977. And the person who made his snacks? Nearly 49 G’s! Those are some pretty expensive tuna sandwiches, huh?

But we haven’t even got to Penelope Cruz yet. She required a hairstylist and a dialogue coach. The hairdresser’s bill came to a ridiculous $135,550!! Unbelievable, right? But wait. The dialogue coach was nearly $126,000 himself. Seriously, this is beyond shameful. What does a dialogue coach even do? Coach dialogue? What the hell does that mean? This is so stupid!

What is really terrible about the whole sordid affair is that every time we go out to the theater and drop $20 or $30 bucks on a ticket, popcorn and a soda, we are funding this type of ridiculous pampering for these entertainers. It’s one thing to get burned when you have to sit through a crummy movie. That’s unfortunate, but is going to happen. However, when you know that a piece of that money went so that McConaughey’s abs can look that much better and Penelope’s dialogue can be said that much clearer (or something?), it can really make a person not want to go to see these entertainers anymore.

But the sad truth is that they aren’t the only ones. This type of thing is rampant and it is everywhere.

Well, I say it’s time for a revolution. Give me my money back. Or, at the very least, a few of those tuna sandwiches.

Sure, the obvious story today would be the firing of radio shock jock Don Imus. But we’re not going that way, and I’ll tell you why: Imus, while he may very well be considered a douchebag, is not, to my knowledge, ever surrounded by babes. And since this site is called Babes With Douchebags, I’m going to focus on a particular douche who babes seem to flock to. And that is “Girls Gone Wild” creator Joe Francis.

I’m sure you’ve seen his sleazy face on television at one time or another. Always looking creepy and always holding a microphone up to some barely of-age girl, offering a free t-shirt or something in exchange for her nudity. Sadly, he usually gets what he wants.

But not recently.

No, Mr. Francis was arrested on Tuesday by federal authorities after defying a judge on a contempt of court violation. He received the charge during negotiations in a civil lawsuit brought against him by 7 women who were underage when they were filmed by Francis’s crew during 2003 Spring Break in Panama City.

Cussing loudly and threatening to “bury” the opposing lawyers, District Judge Smoak gave Mr. Francis an ultimatum: either shut up and settle the case, or go to jail for contempt. A mediator was brought in to cool things down, but Francis got uppity again, eventually calling Smoak a “judge gone wild.”

Girls gone wild, judge gone wild. Get it? Wow, he’s so clever. I guess this means he is a douchebag gone wild, right?

Francis was arrested while getting off a plane, though he claims he was there to turn himself in. It should be noted that a spokesman for the U.S. Marshals had a different story. Said spokesman Dominic Guadagnoli: “We were not aware that he would be flying in in the morning. He stepped off the jet, and he was immediately arrested,”

“If he was coming to Panama City to turn himself in, he was a day late and a dollar short,” he added.

And now comes word that this enormous douchebag has been caught with pills in his Florida jail cell. After Francis allegedly offered a $100 bribe for a bottle of water, an on-duty guard noticed the pill bottles; consisting of two antidepressants and a sleep aid.

And who was it that smuggled the pills and cash into him? Apparently it was Scott Barbour, the president of the film company which produces “Girls Gone Wild.” Police suspect Barbour made the handoff when he visited Francis in jail on Wednesday night. Barbour, too, has now been arrested.

Will wonders never cease?

If I told you that Jason Wahler was arrested in Washington this past weekend, would you:

A) Think how horrible it must be to get arrested?

B) Say to yourself “Damn, the Wahler-meister is at it again!”

or…

C) Wonder who the hell Jason Wahler is?

If you answered C, well, you and I were in the same boat. I had no idea who he was either. But I did a little research and came up with some answers, which I am happy to share with you now.

Wahler is a douchebag. He is also the “star” of several “reality” shows on MTV: The Hills and Laguna Beach. I’ve never seen these shows myself, so I can’t say with certainty the level of douchebaggery the players maintain. However, I do seem to recall “The Soup” on E! making fun of them. And dammit, if Joel McHale does it, so will I.

But not today.

No, today I am just going to report the news of what happened with Jason Wahler in Washington this weekend. Well, and maybe make fun of him, too. But just a little.

It seems as if Mr. Wahler can’t hold his liquor well. The Seattle police were called to respond to a fight between Wahler and an unidentified man. When hotel security tried to break up the fight, Wahler punched one of them in the mouth, ran from the hotel, then returned a short time later. Drunken douchebags just can’t think straight, I guess.

Police arrived on the scene and found Wahler, who was described in their report as “very intoxicated,” passed out in a hallway on the third floor. When Officer DePina tried to take him into custody, the “reality” “star” became very upset and called the officer a “Nig**r,” a “fa*got” and, charmingly, a “poor fu*k.” Gosh, he sounds like a real prince.

Furthermore, Wahler is also reported to have told Officer DePina that “he (Wahler) was rich and would have his (DePina’s) ass.” Then, threatening him again, said, “Come down to L.A. county and get your ass kicked.”

Jason Wahler, who was later booked for criminal trespassing and assault, was described in the report as “belligerent and hostile.” Gee, ya think? This was his fourth arrest in nine months.

Well, I hope the guy cleans up and stays off the drink. It’s obviously not something he can handle. For his sake, I pray this is the last time he has to be arrested. But it probably won’t be. However, even if it is, he might never spend another night in jail, but something tells me he’s going to be a douchebag forever.

MORE INFO:

TMZ.com - Wahler

TMZ.com - Laguna Beach Star Arrested Again