Douglimar is kind and sweet girl, usually with charming smile and sexy afbody but with time you see that she carries some big character and rules so nothing is impossible for her. She's private but doesn't want to hide her happiness and successes. She has no problems with making friends and be a little sunny but don't forget she can say everything she thinks about you using the kindest words. Douglimar accepts herself and can accept any criticism as a reason to be a better person...and the best partner you can have.
-Who's that girl
-Sunny named Douglimar but be careful, she can be sharp
To cause an electronic device to seize working. To affect a device in a negative way. To emit a shadow of chaos on electronics around you. Sometimes applies to other things not electronic, most viruses are caused by Douglarization.
My computer was working fine, but then Doug walked by and boom! Douglarized. I.T. dept. said it's the worst virus they have ever seen.
Really, he's just an uppity British faggot who thinks THE SAME EXACT THING I THINK... Except in a more specified direction (Because when you think it about Muslims and shit-libs it's fine but if you broaden it to everyone it's not?) And wants to play aristocrat.)
Hym "Who's got stinky peepee? He is Douglarse! DOUGLARSE! Smells likeJordan Peepee! He is Douglarse! douglarse (it goes low there that time) Good right? That's as far as I got... It's not a long walk... I sang it all the way home though. I think it'll make a good round. Ya know?"
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)