There is nothing sexier than an angry attorney on an asshole tirade. So whilst my love, Michael Clayton, is hittin’ the slopes, scammin’ on ski bunny hunnies, I’ll just sit here and think of 897 ways we can celebrate Valentines Day upon his return. I’m totally the Whitney Houston to his body guarding Kevin Costner. (And I’m not even holding it against him that his little bro is Corey Hart [Activities: wearing sunglasses at night]). But we shall soon meet, where the streets have no name, Bono. Primarily because my little Tye Pennington is so handy that he can build them street signs and hammer that shit straight into the ground. Ladies, ladies, now, now…don’t be jealous. He’s just not that into you. We have a very Allman Brothers kind of crazy love—probably because he knows that I’m too bad to change. Either way, he wouldn’t try—he schooled Billy Joel and loves me just the way I am (or I are, Timbaland.) If ignorance is bliss, we’re both looking at a long road of misery ahead. He had me at, “If I were a doorman in your building with all those nasal voices, I’d pray to be deaf.” He’s not lacking for interpersonal communication skills, but isn’t afraid to call it like he sees it—except for in our case, where love is a double blind experiment. Literally. SO here’s to Michael Clayton: Michael, although you’re not exactly ‘geographically desirable,’ and clad in distinctively uncommon labels [Loro who?], I’m still totally stoked. It’s not everyday that Steve Winwood brings me a higher love who’s not afraid to break the rules…and smack an asshole every now and then. We’re the intense, neurotic match made in heaven (our horoscopes said so.) Two rights may not be able to make up for one wrong, but it pays to dream. Here’s to hoping he’s the real deal when I wake up: the one and only, Michael Clayton.
Caution: This is for practitioners of etiquette only; not those assholes who lack the tact and general conscience to have manners. And no, I couldn’t jam packed this post with any more Allman Brother’s lyrics if I tried. Well mannered? If not, then learn, ASSHOLE.
Asshole of the Day – Perhaps the week, or even the year as this happens every day
For the past two days, I have had the pleasure, nay the privilege of walking behind two wonderful women, by wonderful, I mean true assholes. Why are they assholes, well these two particular women failed to hold the door open for me as they walked into the complex that I call my office building. Nothing starts off your day like a bad experience. For instance, the asshole who thinks they can fit on the cattle car 4/5 train in the morning and then crushes you with their fat ass, or their 3 stomachs or better yet, their fake Louis Vuitton Bag that digs into your back.
Enough about my digression, back to the assholes of the day. I understand that these women were both secretaries, judging by their style of fashion and the scowls across their face as I walked fast enough to get a glimpse of these women in all of their pessimistic glory.
Then I thought to myself, why are these two non-door-holding women such miserable sour-pusses, and then it dawned on me: these are two secretaries, assistants in a PC world (fuck it, you answer a phone, you are a secretary as assistant implies that you are helpful and add value to the work environment) that have no ambition other than to stare at their computer surfing for crappy clothing or clothing that they can only afford the Canal Street Special.
Moreover, they probably work for people that make 2 to 5 times more than their annual salary and wish they could make as much but they have one problem: They don't want to take a chance at life and deal with real problems. Real problems imply something other than I cant find my favorite color lipstick in the morning or gossiping about nonsense like "I cant believe she made fun of my outfit when she has 3 stomachs (although some men find that attractive, I don't)" These sedentary secretaries are content with their simple life where they can check in in the morning and check out at 5 or 5:30 with their 1 hour lunch break and leave work in the office. Their job only comes home with them if they steal office supplies or get the boot from their boss.
I also thought to myself, if they are this miserable in their lack of manners and the disdain that they evoke in their pissy swagger, how can they be good at their job. After all, they are in the service business and they are supposed to evoke feelings of kindness and perhaps interest when someone calls to speak to their boss. They probably suck at their job and that's even worse as what could be worse than a person with no ambition who sucks at their job that requires no skill other than answering a phone and making photocopies. Unfortunately there are many assholes out there and many more of my perfect mornings will be ruined by these rude assholes.
Here's my suggestion assholes, say thank you now and again, pull up your spandex like pants that you shouldn't wear to the office so that your back tattoo which has begun to sag as your cellulite continues to grow from sitting on your fat ass at the office stuffing your face with crappy food from 9-5, and get some ambition, and for god sake, hold the fucking door open.
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