And now, to business...

2007-09-09T15:46:00.000+07:00

Now that the Inaugural Asshole is safely put to bed (if only that had actually happened when we met) I would like to explain a few things, under the watchful dead eyes of one of history's greatest Assholes (and weirdos.)

Anyone can be an Asshole, even those who are usually kindness and joy personified. Yes, everyone has the capability to fly the Asshole flag. (Thai-Buddhist-Monk-who-quite-calmly-lifted-his-orange-robes-and-
pissed-all-over-the escalator-that-we-were-both-traversing, I'M LOOKING AT YOU, even though you ignored me in the most zen-like manner as I tried to dodge the fetid waterfall that you had left cascading down the steps.)

This little corner of the web is my attempt to catalogue those who fly that flag. If you feel like submitting an Asshole, that would be lovely - I can't find them all you know, although it is commonly accepted that an Asshole finds you.

I am not bitter. Much.

The Inaugural Asshole

2007-09-09T15:04:00.001+07:00

I am a good soul, really, I am. Mostly.

But little child on flight TG 995 from Sydney to Bangkok, were you old enough to read, I would like you to know that you are an asshole.

I am well aware that as a young child it's your prerogative to scream like a demon, non-stop, on any flight longer than 5 hours, I am used to this, I fly a lot, I pride myself on being able to block out the shrill bellows of toddlers. I am also fully conscious of the fact that your mother had obviously given up on you and munched on a handful of Valium and downed her own body-weight in vodka prior to boarding the flight. Don't take it badly, little man, I did the same thing after the third time you leaned over the back of your seat and spat on my crisp new copy of "In Cold Blood."* Sadly, unlike your mother, the vodka didn't work for me and no pharmacist was available mid-flight, although luckily for you I put the book away... I was beginning to get ideas.

I tried to find you endearing little man, I really did, I even affectionately dubbed you "Damien" 2 hours into the flight. Sadly by the 7th hour this was no longer an affectionate moniker.

I tried to chuckle maternally as various octogenarians bellowed intermittently at you to "SHUT UP," and, "PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, JUST SLEEP!" but your constant leg kicking and swearing and food throwing convinced me that your mother bred with Satan. Incidentally, good work on the swearing Damien, I'm Australian, and you managed to introduce me to words that I'd never heard before.

I tried, I really did, Damien, but by the time the cabin crew desperately pleaded with your comatose mother over the intercom to, "please control your "child" or we will be forced to land," I had enough. You are officially this site's inaugural asshole.

Don't you worry though, little Damien, you taught me something - I know know that time truly is relative, and 9 hours truly can be an eternity. You also enlightened me to the fact that the funeral I had attended earlier that morning wasn't nearly as horrid as I thought it was prior to boarding TG 995.

* Truman Capote would have thought you were an Asshole too, only he would have been much more eloquent and camp in letting you know.

Here Be Assholes

And now, to business...

The Inaugural Asshole