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Tag Archives: asshole

Are you talking to me?

Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”

Nietzsche was a mentally twisted beast of a human being.

But, he did have a point.

I got an email. No big deal.

I get a lot of emails, mostly spam. (Viagra, rogain and life insurance. This should bother me more, not sure why it doesn’t.)

But, there is also a certain percentage of inevitable hate mail that this juvenile screed scares up on a regular basis, week in, week out, often by the same people.

And it rarely bothers me, mainly because I value very few opinions higher than my own.

And critics kind of rate at the bottom of that list.

But, every now and then someone pops up that truly has an intellect, expression, brilliance and puts down a scathing rebuked that throws me into the shit.

Who is this superior being? The erudite elitist that has that kind of clout?

Me.

Shit from pretty much everyone else is water off a ducks back.

But what happens when it comes from the duck?

And here is how it started.

Some jagoff sent me hatemail and said I was like a monster.

Didn’t call me a monster, said I was like a monster.

Probably a throw away line from this person that meant nothing.

I read it a few days ago, and don’t even recognize what it was that caused the twisting of the panties.

It came from one of those people that I get crap email from all the time.

But it struck a nerve, made me think.

Thinking is a lot like looking in a mirror.

And the last thing a monster wants is to look in the mirror.

There is that moment of recognition of being a monster, and that delayed hit of realizing that you didn’t start out this way.

The abyss of this blog has been staring into me long enough that it has changed my perspective.

I used to sit in the normal section and point out the funny shit over in the asshole seats.

Now? After almost 5 years and 600+ posts?

I live in the asshole section.

Hell, I am the mayor.

My filter is gone and what is spewing out of the pipes is some foul shit.

So be it.

The one thing that Nietzsche never figured out was this:

Being a monster doesn’t bother the monster.

He likes being a monster.

Its a lot like being an 800 pound gorilla with a big dick.

It intimidates a lot of people, and the ones it doesn’t are the only players of the game you are likely to find.

And these players will pick up the shit you throw out.

And throw it back.

And thats fun.

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Posted by on May 6, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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The little asshole that could.

There is a fine art to procrastination.

Much like sleeping in, its awesome, right up until everything goes South and the situation turns on you like prison rape, uncomfortable leaving a lingering awkwardness.

And that brings us to this morning.

The blog, when I am being diligent and writing it ahead of time, is usually scheduled to post at 0500 Pacific time every Friday.

Unless I have Friday off, then I write it on the fly while at my favorite breakfast spot.

So what happened today?

Me, is what happened today.

I am not seated in my favorite breakfast spot, I am at work, just barely 15 minutes early, desperately pounding out words for you ungrateful bastards.

Speak of the devil and he appears, my phone just buzzed with a text from one of the blog devoted.

“No blog today? You lazy fuck.”

Not to turn this into an angry backlash, but when was the last time any of you whiny bitches scribbled anything other than a complaint for me?

And lets get one thing straight, I do not work for you.

You did not pay for this.

I did not take your sister to prom and do barnyard shit to her. (Although I probably know who did.)

And while people only value what they pay for, they piss and moan like old women about free stuff.

The sick sadistic side of this is that there is an evil side of me that does enjoy making people upset.

I have crawled around on the inside of my own head long enough to know that I am at peace with my inner asshole, that it really doesn’t spill out into the rest of my life in a detrimental way, and therefore I like to encourage the little guy.

Now, true, he is a little spoiled, my inner asshole is, and tends to be disruptive, but he is mine, therefore, I am of the opinion that he is brilliant and beautiful.

A lot of people don’t get it because they don’t have one of their own.

As a society, we have been systematically beating down our own asshole urges to the point that it only comes out under extreme stress or is alcohol induced.

And that is never pretty.

The repressed asshole is an over the top diva, that once she makes her entrance, all hell breaks loose.

Bar fights, pregnancies, STD’s, lost jobs, and family feuds, all are possible when dealing with the repressed asshole.

So take a tip from me, I started taking my IA (Inner Asshole) out for some quality time, just the two of us, back when I first started this blog.

Liberating is a word that comes to mind, so does indulgent, but cathartic is there also.

Free your mind, and your asshole will follow.

 
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Posted by on April 15, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Innocence and superiority

Declaration of innocence.

It seems that someone done forgot the Crow Commandments.

That line from the Wiz (Starring a yet to be indicted Michael Jackson) was the beginning of an amazing scene in a musical.

But it also could be a gentle reminder to sit still while someone explains the rules to you……AGAIN.

First of all, I am more innocent than most.

Think of the first snow of Winter, pure and delightful, and incredible.

I am all up in that kind of innocence.

Because to understand true innocence you have to understand the opposite end of the spectrum.

The further down one side you go, the further you can go down both sides.

So, having the ability to be stunningly vile is what enables me to be that fucking sweet and innocent.

Like a cuddly puppy that just might go for your throat at any moment.

But he is just so damned CUTE!

A pit bull with a spiked collar and a pink hair bow. (The imagery on that one is disturbing)

A test reader has proclaimed that the previous line might mean I am a little “sweet in the pants”, if that line makes sense.

Being metro-sexual is all part of my vegan-carnivore superiority.

Not everyone can handle that, and thats ok.

In the hierarchy of raw intelligence, the world needs ditch diggers too. (I respect that, but sit down kiddies, the adults are talking.)

Vegetarians cannot understand how I could be a better vegetarian than them, while still eating a diet that is based almost entirely on eating meat. (You can try to chew on the hypocrisy in that line, but take small bites and chew it well before you swallow. You will still choke but at least you made the effort.)

I had to stop writing for a moment to allow my erection to subside.

Brilliance is a goddam sexy thing to behold.

And this is the IMAX viewing.

Now, where was I?

Ah yes, my innocent nature.

Think of the blog as a deep method of intense meditation.

The more you read, the more you will find yourself growing as a person and an asshole.

A natural evolution that is totally based on Intelligent Design.

Homo-sapian to Homo-superior.

Or maybe Homo-sphincter.

(I take offense at the suggestion that the previous line is a smack at the gay community. The gays LOVE me. If you doubt that, wait till Tranny-Hooker makes an appearance. That girl will knock you on your ass, then you will be sorry!)

Yes, its crude. Yes, its childish.

But its an honest attempt to do something without pretense or facade.

Just the sincere attempt to be ridiculous.

And I think I succeeded.

The seriousness of the world we live in can chew you up and swallow you. (Spitting you out would be too kind for society. Pound of flesh is now a part of the Bill of Rights)

So, on the front lines of the battle between originality and soul-killing conformity is me, sporting a semi, sarcastic and loaded for bear.

If you feel like it, pull the stick out of your ass for an hour and lets stomp on the terra like Gods.

And if not? Short and simple,

Bite me. You’re boring.

(Microphone drop)

 
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Posted by on January 15, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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The finger of doom.

Today is a day for bitching and complaining.

First on my list is parking.

My new morning Starbucks is a busy one, at least double the amount of morning traffic from the one in downtown Manhattan.

Traffic sucks on a regular basis even when all available spots are open.

And now, today only, the building management decided that it would be a brilliant move to put out some red cones and yellow caution tape and restrict half of the parking spots.

If there is some sort of serious work to be done and it is absolutely necessary to shitcan half of the customers to the coffee and none-coffee businesses here, so be it. Have the work teams standing by and get it done ASAP.

Here is the problem.

There is no workers to be seen. Not even an ominous work van.

Nothing.

And the morning java crowd is not taking it well.

As far as addictions go, caffeine is a fairly mild one that doesn’t make evil shit happen if you are denied.

Nobody gets shot if you can’t score and no one has ever performed oral sex in the alley to get a mocachino in the wee hours.

However, caffeine has an odd element of entitlement that other drugs lack.

Anarchy reigns in the parking lot at the moment.

The is a black BMW that is stopped in the middle of the lot, door open, and a guy in a black suit is rapping on someones trunk.

He is not happy.

“HELLO? UH, YOU SNAKED MY SPOT! HELLO!”

I watched this one evolve and I believe I know what his issue is.

Black BMW entered from the west.

Open spot about 10 spots up. He hits his turn signal, but for reasons unknown, creeps forward really slowly.

The second he hit his blinker, a red VW Jetta enters the lot, coming in hot, at least 20 MPH in a small lot.

Sees the open spot, BMW is still 8 spaces away from the open space, and the Jetta makes an audible tire squeal as its slides into the spot.

Mission accomplished.

BMW does not view this as done.

Adding to the fun mix is the Jetta driver, who appears to be a very mild mannered business woman, not angry, not yelling, appears to be oblivious to the BMW driver’s issue.

You know what this little scene is missing to make it truly fun?

The police.

Oh wait, here they are.

And, it appears, that the BMW driver has been looking for someone to yell at other than the Jetta driver.

Why? No clue. But the police are the wrong ones to yell at.

As anyone who has spent a little hood time in the company of the police can tell you, they do NOT enjoy being bitched at.

Out comes the finger.

When the BMW driver begins to stab the finger in the general direction of the officer, things only get better for those of us who take some sort of sick delight in the tense shitty moments of others.

The BMW driver is now in trouble. The Jetta driver has asked and been given permission to go get her coffee.

I decided that coffee was a fine idea myself and went inside.

When I came out, 15 minutes later, the BMW driver was still making friends.

Let that be 3 lessons to us all.

1. Let the spot go. You don’t own it and another one will be available soon.

2. Its not personal. Don’t get out of your car, don’t make a scene. It still will not get you the spot.

3. Leave your finger out of it. The police have little tolerance for you and HAVE NO TOLERANCE for your finger in their chest. Trust me on this one.

Words for the next generation.

Leave your finger out of it.

 
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Posted by on April 21, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Asshole with a side of crab.

Ok, so bottomless mimosa’s for brunch are never a good idea.

Alcohol tends to bring out the asshole in some people.

But what do you do if the asshole is already out?

Then it shifts into something vicious to behold.

You realize about halfway during brunch that, if the waitress were to mutter the word “Dick” under her breath as she walks away from your table, it will make your morning.

This may sound mean and I really don’t think I can argue that one with you.

Its not like I start out on the moral high ground or anything.

To quote Robin Williams, “I fucked my way to the middle and screwed my way down.”

And while I am a big advocate of embracing the asshole within, I can get to a place that even I am sick of myself.

The first step on the road to recovery may be to stop seeing others as playthings to be manipulated for my own amusement.

Have you ever noticed that they are putting cranberries in pretty much everything now?

It used to just be juices, now its drinks, baked goods, seasonings.

Well, crab is now the cranberry of seafood.

I counted it up, and of the 65 food items on the restaurant menu, crab was in 40 of them.

Top sirloin sliders sounded good, until I noticed there was crab mixed in.

Is nothing sacred?

And, of a party of 8 people, 6 had crab in their entree.

This makes me suspect some sort of plot with crab at the middle. (Perhaps the Mason’s?)

In the end, I found the food at the restaurant rather bland and seemingly low end. (Mine was cold, and trust me, you have not heard bitching until you serving me cold Breakfast Wellington. (Like Beef Wellington but with eggs and ham.))

This is one of the reasons that I seldom try new eating establishments.

There is always the chance they will pooch it and then I am stuck with an unpleasant memory.

You would think it was not a big deal, but it is.

I mean, you eat 3 meals a day, 365 days a year. Thats over a 1000 meals every year, surely one bad meal is no biggie?

It is.

The point of this entire whiny rant is that, a restaurant that charges over $20 a head should have their shit together.

That being said, the company was spectacular and funny and included a few people I have not seen much lately and have missed.

Which led to the waitress getting a decent tip.

I was not able to goad her into calling me names, but she did instruct the water busboy to “Just ignore him.”

(Don’t ask me why, but a woman throwing a smack at me publicly is oddly endearing.)

 
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Posted by on March 24, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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If you can’t say anything nice, blog about it.

I have written and deleted 4 different takes on the same subject and I can’t seem to finish the piece without it being the type of thing that would burn a lot of bridges.

Not just burn them, but nuke them, salt the earth, and leave it irradiated for eons.

Divorce, relationships, work, family, blogging…etc.

And some of these bridges I still need access to.

So, rather than let it go and forget about it, (Something I NEVER do.) I will just backburner the subject until I can do it without the “Scorched earth” result, or situations change and I no longer give a shit about the outcome. (And that is a dangerous frame of mind.)

So here is something different.

5 different reactions for the same thing.

The last blog post stirred up some “Stuff” for lack of a better word with a lot of you.

Since the preferred method of whining and bitching at me seems to be the anonymous email (You cowardly pieces of shit), I will address those first.

Response #1: First off, its ridiculous to declare yourself an “Ardent feminist” and claim you read the blog regularly. Either you are lying thru your teeth, mainly because no Feminist, ardent or not, would read this misogynistic swill without putting a hit out on me. Which means you are a wannabe ardent feminist. That is pathetic. Its like wanting to be known as the snappiest dresser in special ed. Bite me.

Response #2: You said in your email “While I am not a teacher” blah blah frickin blah. Therefore, you are not qualified to tell me what tense I am using, correct or otherwise. This is sadder than the wannabe ardent feminist issue. Your email was fairly grammatically correct and was as boring as cat shit on the sidewalk. Bite me.

Response #3: I am aware of the fact that Jesus loves me. However, if you are under the impression that the Almighty has an issue with this post or any previous posts, you are sadly mistaken. The Almighty not only gets me, he thinks I am a hysterical genius. One of his finer creations. (My mother said so.)

Response #4 Asking me to post something about your favorite charity tells me that you have so little respect for not just me, but anyone you send that poorly written email to, that you haven’t even taken the time to read the blog. If it doesn’t fit the subject matter or flavor of the blog, it will have the opposite effect of driving people away from your charity. Just showing it to people does not magically fix it. I was a salesman long enough to know that, with the proper presentation, you can sell anything to people. Especially ideas.

Response #5 My mother is right and I am deeply ashamed and sorry for scribbling this rubbish. Love you, mommy.

As time goes on, I have come to really enjoy and even look forward to the anonymous emails. Even if you are a pack of whiny pussies.

Let me leave you with this oft-time repeated reply to criticism.

Bite me.

 
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Posted by on November 15, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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