So many assholes, so little time. I foresee this being part of a series as I think I’ve only just scratched the surface in terms of the plethora of assholes amongst us.
Listen, I love a washed-up drag queen as much as the next guy, but bitch you’re working a cosmetics counter, not starring in RuPaul’s Drag Race. Tuck your attitude, hunty. You’re trying to sell me overpriced products made from a beaver’s anal glands at the local pharmacy. So stop looking down at me from your poorly contoured nose and please get me that sperm whale lip gloss I asked for before I shove a powder puff up your ass.
I will preface this by saying that I can cook and I recognize and appreciate good food; however when someone identifies as a “foodie” it is likely that you are dealing with an asshole. Restaurant reviewers and bloggers who refer to food as unfashionable should be impaled on a giant fork. I’m so sorry that you had to eat that outmoded crème brûlée at a five-star restaurant – the struggle is real. Your privileged palate makes me want to throw up in your mouth.
I’m the first person to open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and not share it with anyone because that stuff is a goddamn party in my mouth. But I don’t want to hear about the fruity sweetness of the deep, rich red you’re drinking – undulating over your tongue like velvet. First of all, that’s soft porn (and I hate soft porn) and second of all, who are you kidding, we know you’re sucking it back because you’re trying to stomach the idea of giving a blow job to that boyfriend you settled for. I said what I said.
I’m guilty of spending too much time on Instagram, perusing cat pictures and scouring images of hot guys and their bulges with my gay friends. But even if it’s fun, Instagram never fails to deliver on the asshole front. First of all, most pictures are completely contrived and heavily filtered, making people unrecognizable (handy if you’re paranoid about facial recognition software). Instagram would also have you believe that the average woman sits around in bed with a full face of makeup in a sexy matching bra and underwear set – head thrown back in a fit of laughter with nineteen of her closest bffs. This never happens in real life. Also, what kind of monster wears a bra at home? You’ll find celebrities being paid exorbitant amounts of money to advertise products to the plebeians – that’s us – because you just know they need that extra income. Most irritating, however, are the 16-year old Influencers trying to sell us skin care products, posting pictures of their perfect, glowing skin. Bitch, you still have placenta on your face, that’s why your skin is glowing.
I’m all riled up now! Let me know if there are any assholes I can tackle on your behalf – let’s tap into our collective pent up anger and take the assholes in the world.