Damn, Debbie

This is your mission, should you choose to accept it:

I need you guys to help me make Damn, Debbie happen.

Let me explain.

Picture it: Boca Raton, 2012. I spend a quiet thursday evening with my mum and we watch The Daily Show on Comedy Central. As the episode concludes, StewBeef presents us with our Moment of Zen. Upon the television screen appears a clip from C-SPAN, in which a prank caller identifying themselves only as "Debbie" politely inquires as to the size of Mitt Romney's penis. Yes, that Mitt Romney. My mother and I are thunderstruck: her, out of some quaint sense of prudish delicacy commonly displayed by the elder generation, and me, out of sheer revulsion.

In unison, we both intone, "Damn, Debbie."

And with that, a catchphrase is born.

I have decided that Damn, Debbie needs to be a Thing. As the author of this soon-to-be explosive piece of slang, let me be the first to give you a clear definition: Damn, Debbie is to be used as an expression of that strange feeling characterized by equal sensations of surprise, disgust, amusement, secondhand embarrassment, and awe. Damn, Debbie is for when somebody does or says something so utterly inappropriate and awkward that you're actually a little impressed that they were ballsy/socially inept/fantastically clueless enough to actually do it, and it comes right the fuck out of nowhere.

Please note that Damn, Debbie is not to be confused with Daaaaaaaaaaamn.



Daaaaaaaaaamn is a singularly versatile word. It can be used appropriately in a multitude of situations and conversations. One could throatily whisper "Daaaaaaaaaamn!" to oneself at catching sight of a particular, physically bodacious individual. One could holler "Daaaaaaaaaamn!" when one's friend recounts a thrilling tale of their encounter with a swarm of dragonflies (which are super scary). One could give a dismayed cry of "Daaaaaaaaaamn!" at the discovery of a big, greasy, parmesan-encrusted human toe in your pasta while dining at what will be your ex-favorite Italian restaurant. One could shrilly bleat "Daaaaaaaaaamn!" if one were playing an angry, foulmouthed sheep in an independent film. One could give an anguished, bitter groan of "Daaaaaaaaaamn!" upon hearing that people actually vote for Mitt Romney.

By contrast, Damn, Debbie's applicability is specific to that surprised/disgusted/amused/embarrassed/awed thing I described earlier. Damn, Debbie is for when someone seems perfectly normal and then suddenly shows a glimpse of pants-wetting insanity that all but gives you whiplash and it is kind of amazing. Damn, Debbie is in recognition of those moments, at once awe-inspiring and horrifically uncomfortable, where you realize that the person you are speaking to is probably the basis for Zach Galifianakis's character in The Hangover and they either aren't aware or they straight don't give a fuck.

And so I implore you, readers, to go forth and spread Damn, Debbie across the land. Because I promise you, somewhere, someday, you will encounter a Debbie. I hope you survive.