What’s so bad about bags?

Why does adding the suffix -bag make something worse? Bags are great!

It’s worse to be a douchebag than a douche. You call someone a douche and, okay, they’ve been acting a little mean. Douchebag? That’s the guy who puts his man parts on your shoulder at the bus stop.

Same for scum and scumbag. Scum is generic, and generally denotes belonging to a lower-class group. At least you’re not alone. But scumbag? That’s directed straight at me, lady, and I take offence. But sorry again for that thing at the bus stop.

There are other examples as well.

If you call a woman old, she’ll respond with a slightly-offended “hey!” Call her an old bag and she will give you the evil eye for the rest of your days.

Based on this pattern, it’s logical to infer that the bag you put a bad thing in is worse than the thing itself.

I don’t get it, it’s not their fault what we shove inside of them.

Bags are great. Bags help me take my shopping home. They prevent lose garbage from rolling around under our sinks. Women put their essentials in a bag and carry it around all day with pride.

Bags are god’s gift to portable organization.

But they don’t stop there. Laundry bags hold all my dirty underpants without a word of complaint. Sand bags prevent flooding.

Maybe it’s a difference of opinion, and I’m biased. Putting myself on the anti-bag side of the discussion, I can see some flaws. Particularly in the powder-transportation department:

Still, I’m a huge fan of bags. I have way too many bags of all sorts. I won’t even bring a reusable one to the grocery store because I think five cents per bag is a damn steal! Give me 20, please. “But sir, you only bought a bag of baby carrots and a single roll of toilet paper.” “I said give me 20!”

I suggest we change this around and add the -bag suffix to make something better.

For example, if I call someone my friend, they’re a friend. But if I call them a friendbag, then they’re an extra special friend who’ll help me carry my stuff without hesitation.

Bags. They’re great. Without them we’d be nowhere. Let’s not look down on them just because they once held something we don’t like.


One of my nicknames, in fact, was already jazzed up with a -bag suffix. I once was called “Guts” and then “Gutbag.” Special.

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