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SweatpantsErection.com Douche-Bag of the Moment
Stavros Niarchos III
November 29, 2005
Celebrity-land is full of engaging personalities, glamorous lifestyles and enormous talents of all shapes and sizes.
It also happens to be populated by some of the most jaw dropping, gape inducing douche-bags on the planet.
If you've been paying attention at all, dear reader, you already know that we here at SweatpantsErection.com
prefer writing about the latter to the former.
As such, we're introducing a new, semi-regular column which will focus on these celluloid nightmares and pay
tribute to their neverending stream of very public poor taste and astonishingly bad decisions:
The SweatpantsErection.com Douche-Bag of the Moment.
With so many ripe items to choose from during the latter half of 2005, the decision as to who would be our inaugural
winner was a difficult one. Even after removing TomKat and their unborn hellspawn from the running, the possibilities
were overwhelming.
Would it be Ashlee Simpson, who's been called "stupid" by older sister (and Mensa candidate) Jessica for
almost burning the house down while making popcorn and who
was recently video taped drunk and beligerent in a Canadian McDonalds,
refusing to give a fan a photograph because they wouldn't kiss her feet?
Or maybe Katie Holme's ex and self-proclaimed "alpha-heterosexual" Chris Klein would rise to the top for his recent this-guy-can't-HONESTLY-believe-what-he's-saying-quote filled
interview with Elle? Conspiracy theorists should be watching Mr. Klein's bank account for deposits
from Tom Cruise or the Church of Scientology after that one.
Also among the top hopefuls was perrenial contender, Kevin Federline, or K-Fed,
whose hip-hop aspirations were recently dashed when a copy of his "rap" song "Ya'll Ain't Ready"
was leaked to the internet.
Let's just say that, in addition to being such a gigantic douche-bag that he can't even win a douche-bag contest, K-Fed has about as much rhythm as he does class...and I haven't even mentioned the corn-rows yet. Dayum. Vanilla Ice is laughing himself to sleep somewhere, I'm sure.
No sir, one individual so personified feminine hygeine products in recent months that he rose head and
shoulders above the competition. I present to you the first ever SweatpantsErection.com Douche-Bag of the Moment:
Stavros Niarchos III
Who is he?
In case you've been living under a rock, Stavros is another in what promises to be a long and storied line
of Greek shipping heirs and Paris Hilton boy-toys. From a family worth an estimated $7.5 billion, the 20 year
old USC film student and "professional Kite Surfer" (WTF does that even mean?) first came into
public view during a five month relationship with the ever-svelt Mary-Kate Olsen of
Full House fame.
After rampant rumors of infidelity, Stavros was photographed molesting a very willing Paris Hilton
on a Mexican beach just weeks after her split from Greek shipping heir and financé, Paris Latsis. The
newly outted couple was rumored to have taken their affections at a T-Mobile party to the
more private setting of a Porta-Potty
just days prior. I don't know about you, but I know nothing gets my motor running like open sewage. Purrrrrrrrr...
Stavros is a True Humanitarian
According to Us Weekly, just a few days later, our main man spent his evening clubbing with
L.A.'s elite at Element club. As the night wore on, hunger set in and he did what any
billionarre would do in that situation: he headed to Burger King. After ordering, Stavros noticed a homeless man
outside of the restaurant. Being a philanthropist through and through, our hero offered the down-on-his-luck
gentleman $100...if he would pour a soda on himself. Choosing humiliation over hunger, the poor man obliged and took the money. Billionairre Stavros and his crew had a hearty laugh in the man's face. Stories like this can't help but
warm the heart and renew my faith in humanity.
Stavros Has a Publicist?
Days later (are you sensing a theme here?), Stavros was again partying at Element, this time with
Paris, Laguna Beach star and douche-in-training Talan Torriero and Rod Stewart's daughter, Kimberly.
At around 2:30AM, the couples (Kimberly and Talan recently announced their engagement and then (days later)
unannounced it) decided
it was time to leave. Stavros, at the wheel of Paris' $170,000 Bentley (such a gentleman, driving the ladies home),
covered his face with his coat and hit the gas, propelling them into a parked truck and doing visible damage
to the car.
Then, as any reasonable person would, he turned the car toward the exit and gunned it, nearly mowing down a bystander
for good measure. After speeding off, the partiers were pulled over by police who let them continue on their
merry way without so much as a field sobriety test -- but only after Thalan, who had been in the backseat the whole time, proclaimed
to them "I'm the only sober one," and Paris blew them a kiss saying "We love the police."
Now, you're probably asking yourself "how does he know all of this?" A fair question, and one I happen to have
an answer to: the entire affair was caught on video tape.
The topper? This quote comes from a photographer at the scene:
I blame his stupid publicist for this wreck, he told Stavros to keep his face covered as he was driving away, and then, we all know what happened.
This douchebag, who has no claim to fame other than schtupping a spermrag heiress and
having a rich daddy, has a publicist? Jesus. Next thing you know, Kevin Federline will have a
hair stylist.
Stavros Loves Pillow Fights!
Some time later (let's say "days," shall we?), Mr. Niarchos was invited to Kelly Osbourne's
21st birthday extravaganza. Lest he be upstaged for publicity (and why, exactly does a Greek
shipping heir need publicity? For his publicist? Oh, never bother.), Stavros decided it was time to cause $100,000+ worth
of damage to the Las Vegas hotel that was hosting the party.
It all apparently stemmed from a pillow fight gone wrong; a pillow fight that led to sprinkler systems
being set off, waterlogged rooms (boy, I'll bet the non-billionairre clientelle were pleased to find their
spare boxers soaked), fire alarms and hotel evacuations. Now, rock stars have been doing this for years.
Decades, even. What gets me is not the hotel wrecking, so much as the following: Our pro(?)tagonist's
bodyguards were heard telling angry hotel employees "Why are you so upset? It's all going to be paid for," followed
by numerous sightings of Mister Congentiality himself calling daddy to ask permission to charge a
credit card for the six figure damage.
Let's put it this way: Even Paris, she-who-is-not-bothered-by-a-video-of-Brenda-Walsh's-boyfriend-juicing-her-breasts-in-night-vision, was offended.
She was quoted as saying "I don't want (the hotel) to think I bring in people who do this stuff."
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner. The man so douche friendly that he runs a $170k car
into a parked truck...the man so in tune with douchedom that he flaunts his riches to humiliate
the homeless...the "man" so vinegar flavored that he embarrasses even the heiress named Paris:
Stavros Niarchos III is the SweatpantsErection.com Douche-Bag of the Moment
-dsf
PS: Navros, I hate you. May you die in a horrible Burger Kinger sponsored Surf-Kiting accident
involving broken glass. |
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