Not for nothing, but I'd bet you dollar to donuts that if some mysterious, black suited stranger happened to emerge out of thin air to show my 17 year old self a video montage of what I'd be doing circa 2009 - I'd probably break down right then and there, rendering myself utterly inconsolable in my cross-colors attire. I mean, I always figured that I'd have a considerably different life by now - 3.5 kids, having some job I loathed that required me to carry a briefcase, stolen moments with my wife where the both of us play 80's era Hip Hop and reminisce while the kids are fast asleep on some new millennium "Cosby Show" shit. Alphabetizing my extensive pornography collection, penetrating women that I hardly know in the backseat of my muscle car while wearing three condoms, beating assassination fantasy enthusiasts senseless thus resulting in me being barred from the 3rd watering hole in four months - these aren't exactly the type of things that I thought I'd be putting on my resume at the advanced age of 35. Anyway, speaking of inbred bastards who happened to be on the business end of a beating for wishing the President-Elect harm - I thought I'd begin to wrap up my blog series "4/Days/4 People I've assaulted in Barack Obamaan>'s Name".(Here are the first two installments) Granted, I'm cheating since this happened post-election - but fuck it. Again, hattip to Lee Stranahan.
Dispatched Asshole #2:Don't get it twisted, I don't have it in for all republicans. Even though I live amongst a rogues gallery of social knuckle-draggers and a stones through away from Pat Robertson's residence, I've engaged in enough debates with republicans to know that a respectful disagreement on public policy is indeed possible. I was certain that the young man who I assaulted with reckless abandon the other night belonged to said group, based on the reasonable conversations that we've historically had about politics. He voted for Bush twice, was a John McCain supporter who seemed to have more of a crush on Sarah Palin than an actual belief that she could govern responsibly - but there was never any Pat Buchanan in his rhetoric, and he didn't seem to subscribe to the Karl Rove school of politics. He seemed like a pretty decent guy, that was until Barack Obama was actually elected president that is.
Actually I hadn't seen him since one of the last debates, so when he walked into one of the only bars in the area that I wasn't banned from I just knew that we would wax poetic about the presidential road bumps that Barack Obama would face in a rather peaceful, bi-partisan fashion. Instead, I got a bunch of "I have a feeling he'll get assassinated in his first term" rhetoric - so, since I know many well intentioned people who love Obama that share that same sort of fatalism, I took it as such. So I proceeded to tell him what I've told many civil rights era black folks concerned with Obama's safety over the last year, that the security around him is tighter than nun vagina - and that secret service precautions that I've read about have put a naturally paranoid soul like me at ease. That's when he got strange, uttering something like "..but if a person is crazy enough and doesn't care about dying, they can certainly get to him!" I was calmly persistent, but added a little bit of asshole seasoning to my response since I got the inkling that he wouldn't let go off this rather uncomfortable topic: "Being crazy just means that a mentally unstable person will be the one, quoting Biggie, who will get "swiss cheesed up" if they get within a square mile of Obama! I'm not worried." Unfortunately, that's when he revealed himself to be the piece of shit that he really was, basically hinting that he hoped that our 44th President would be snatched from the mortal coil in a rather untimely fashion. He commonly sprinkled the words "It will be a sad day" on top of his demented shit sandwich of hate that he was offering me, and I didn't know whether to beat him because of it or to beat him because he belonged to a long list of racists who somehow felt the need to confide their racism to me. So while he was talking, I grabbed his plate with two slices of pizzas still on it and attempted to smother that motherfucker to death. It must have looked comical to the people in the bar because everyone laughed at first, but as I continued to neglect him of air while crushing his ribcage with punishing knee strikes - it was apparent to everyone in eyeshot that entertaining strangers wasn't particularly on my agenda.(Unless they have a strange thing for dead assholes) Anyway, a bunch of guys pulled me off of him while he screamed something silly like "He's trying to kill me!!" - an accusation that was quickly interrupted by me running over and headbutting that bastard as hard as humanly possible. That's when the bouncers physically carried me out of the club as I screamed "You're nothing but talk and a badge. You're nothing but talk and a badge!"("Untouchables" reference) Oh well, another day another bar that I'm banned from. In some alternate universe somewhere my 17 year old self is shaking his head in disgust.