You're probably an asshole, too

The great Samantha Jones from Sex and the City once uttered my favourite line ever, “Kids are assholes.” This line was given more credence than ever when we heard about the recent news item involving a 2-year-old boy playing with matches and subsequently killing his mother and injuring many others when their Brooklyn apartment burned into a heap of shit. This fracas could easily have been avoided if the now deceased mother just told her idiot child, “Only toddlers who are assholes play with matches.” The crappy newspaper that ran this item also reported that this dumbass kid had matches as a much loved plaything. Whilst an excellently cheap gift alternative for friends with children, matches doth not a play date make. Only those 3 years of age and above should have the right to use these fire-making sticks in a recreational way. Of course, there will be absolutely no federal legislation introduced to curb the potential for disaster, but this does outline the need, more than ever, for corner store owners to ID children who randomly come in off the street requesting matches.

The above anecdote is only one of many illustrations of what makes an asshole an asshole. You might be wondering at this point, “Fag, what else is there?” We witness assholery in many forms every day. It is not an exact science, but rather a flourishing art form. The fact that it is artistic is by no means a compliment to the art form, only artistic in the way that it takes many shapes that are open to our own interpretation.

People who hold up the commuting process are often labeled assholes, and for good reason. We need to work, and bosses don’t want to hear “well, there was this asshole sick passenger 4 trains ahead of me and that held me up for 30 minutes.” Bar owners do not tolerate “sorry if you’re not going to make your sales quota tonight if I’m not here, but a cop was arresting a murderer on my bus.” It is seemingly acceptable for those in positions above us to dismiss the assholery that affects our daily lives, but when do WE draw the line? A good place to do this is at the yet to open doors of a Metro North train. Normally, passengers file onto the train once the doors open. Call me crazy, but I happen to know that in the real world, this really happens. The fantasy of reality turned into depressing delusion as the doors indeed opened on one such afternoon, but people were still standing in place. What the hell? Come to find out, this waspy white dick of a father was encouraging his little boy to jump over the gap between the platform and the train rather than walk onto the locomotive like a normal homosapien. It’s no shock at all that those held up by this display of assholery were frustrated. Finally, pissed off passengers would tolerate no more and started pushing by this asshole. Isn’t it a sad day when there is a generational breakdown? The assholery of the father’s youth and continued adulthood would not successfully be passed down to his spawn. To further the assholery, the waspy white dick of a father looked dumbstruck as he wondered WHY his assholery was not endured. Once again, no congressional session will take place to combat this, but I encourage each and every one of us who sees this assholery to write to the government and forcefully recommend that these offenders wear t-shirts with their address on them so we may pen missives that state, “Dear asshole, YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE! Signed, someone who is not an asshole (at least not for the reason you’re an asshole.”).

In the great city of New York, tourism is a necessary evil to the economy. Whilst cash registers welcome tourists’ converted Euros with open drawers, those of us who were here first are not always so accepting. Let’s face facts – we think these vacationers are stupid. They have their oversized subway map and still have no idea where they’re going. They waste valuable standing space by being spread out all over the train. These tourists finally gather up the gumption to ask someone with experience if they’re anywhere near Times Square, meanwhile they’re a stone’s throw from the Staten Island Ferry – on the Staten Island side. Tourists are also world-famous for walking slow as shit going uphill in January on crowded midtown streets where people with actual jobs and lives don’t have time for this bullshit. Even worse, 9.5 times out of 10, they’re wearing sensible comfortable flats from Payless Europa, so there is absolutely no feasible excuse for the lack of pep in the step. One might wonder at this point, is it really acceptable to poke fun at these groups of people who boost the city’s financial system week after week and year after year? Should we really look down on people who are willing to pay obscene prices for the city’s services because we’re too broke to? The answer is yes, and simply because tourists are wack. If overseas postage was more affordable, there would be a flood of letters to European governing bodies asking, “Dear European government, how do you say asshole in your resident language? Because I just read Fag’s Mental Mailbox, and I agree that’s exactly what your people are. A bunch of ASSHOLES! Singed, a native New Yorker non-tourist-non-asshole.”

Time to revert to our very own home-grown assholes. What do we think of 12-year-old sluts who dress like 25-year-old sluts? The obvious answer here is they’re assholes. We can easily point fingers at these young ladies who will soon have a news caption under their name saying “Teenage Baby Mama,” rationalizing that they’re “looking for it” or they’re “asking to be treated in a certain way.” Certainly, they deserve to have their assholery pointed out to them in an embarrassing fashion; however, it goes beyond their modes of undress. It’s no secret that these girls of questionable intent draw attention to themselves by donning horrific tube-tops that expose their training bra straps. What is more reviling than their 2 for 99 sense of style is the way they overload our sense of smell with their Parfum du Crap, free with their purchase of dollar-store douche. Picture this as the perfect romantic New York City evening – riding a train over the Manhattan Bridge, viewing the brilliant skyline, and catching a whiff of a ridiculous concoction of plasma, poop, and patchouli. The olfactory and the visual do not quite come together when the realization is made that this is not the stench of the homeless. Surely, these girls have many great talents to offer society, but they would smell better if they worked out 3 times a day and not showered for a month. Frankly, they are one step below the homeless in the fragrance department, but they are one step above in the assholery department.

We now turn to assholes in the news. Believe it or not, even though criminals who are caught and spotlighted on TV are assholes for being stupid enough to get caught, it’s the “friends and neighbors” who rush to their defense who are the real assholes. Such friends and neighbors announce, “Mr. Jones was such a family man. I thought those 36 pictures of little boys he showed me were of his grandchildren.” No asshole, Mr. Jones molested children. Now, back to you, Dick, in the studio. Someone else would decry, “It’s only crack. I can’t believe she’s going to the can for 20 years for some harmless recreation.” Yea, well, I can’t believe an asshole like you expressed an opinion like that on television and you still have rights. No one ever says, “Well, yes, he really was an asshole, I’m surprised he wasn’t caught earlier,” or “It’s about time someone arrested that douchebag.” Even better is what has become a cliché in friend-and-neighbor interviewing, “He had such a bright future. He was an aspiring rapper” Really? A 17-year-old scumbag with 4 children, no job, no education, and no sense of responsibility has a bright future? Guess what asshole…I want to be a fucking ballerina, but that doesn’t mean I can skirt the law, poo poo on my obligations as a citizen in the real world, and inject baby-making sperm into stupid young women who think “it won’t happen to me.”

As we can clearly tell, it doesn’t take much to be a balloon knot. In fact, the potential is endless. Countless people doubtless have their own stories to express. I highly encourage all of you, my readership of 4, to expose assholery when you see it, whether it’s at work, during your commute, or in your very home. Our elected assholes are too busy voting themselves pay raises and railing against the Asian Longhorn Beetle to care. It is up to us to take the fight to the asshole. Make t-shirts. Write letters. Vote assholes out of office.

Cc: President George W. Bush