Holiday Help for Asshats:The Stuffing Edition
You know I love ya right (wayyy deep down inside)? And in the spirit of the holidays and giving, I figured now would be the perfect time to let you in on a little secret, sometimes, no all the time, you fucking suck. I suppose I’ll be nice and tell you about this before you delve further into asshole-dom (or dumbwhore-dom if you’re a female).
Let’s start off with most recently, today that is. The Acela being booked and all meant no quiet car, which, ok fine, I can deal, but since you had been seated in the quiet car prior to it being announced that it would not be a quiet car, means that you probably sat there on purpose. Which means, that most of the people seated in there, were there because they like QUIET. Say it with me now, QUIET. That means shut the fuck up you haggard bitch, because in reality, I do not want to hear about how hungover you are after being forced to drink by “Suave”. I don’t want to hear about it when you tell your mom, Rosemary, your friend Heather, your cousin’s best friend bob, or your Uncle Charlie over at the VA hospital. Really, I don’t care. The same goes for you, woman with the stringy hair who had to call 18 different places in order to find the right number for Marietta; your hairdresser to tell her that you are on the fucking train. I don’t care and I doubt that Marietta cares either.
Moving on now…
To yesterday when you and your cronies saw me walking towards you and instead of moving to one side of the street you all decided to block me as I was walking. I know that you’re in a rush to get to your totally awesome Legislative Assistant jobs on the Hill and write a million and ten constituency letters about why we can’t pull out of Iraq, but seriously, move the fuck out the way. Or next time I’m going to have to punch you then steal your blackberry and you’ll have to explain to the Congressman why your blackberry was found in the Longworth Building toilets.
And then there are the kind words that come from you while I’m running or randomly walking in my running clothes through union station. Here’s a hint, ways to not pick up women…yelling out “Shake it ma”. Also beeping your horn while I’m trying to avoid getting run over. Just don’t do it. Don’t call me “ma”, don’t yell “hey baby”, don’t beep. Don’t do anything, just let me run and/or walk without the added commentary of how great my ass looks.
Lastly, I wouldn’t want you to think that all asshats are strangers, there’s also my younger brother:
HB: I bet you can’t wait to see me
G: I bet I can
There’s true love to be shared around this holiday season. Can you feel it? Asshat, try to heed these words.
Now go forth and enjoy your Thanksgiving and be thankful that I haven’t punched you in the face yet.