My mother says that only BAD girls swear or use foul language, so if you’re my mother or you believe the same thing then DON’T READ ANY FURTHER cos I’m about to be a BAD girl.
If on the one hand my mother is very much on the straight and narrow then my father on the other hand is, well, on the other hand. He has a condition called ASSfixiation. When he is in the presence of someone who presents the behavioural tendencies of an ass, he tends to have a reaction: reddening of the face, frothing at the mouth and a spewing of unprintables. Medical experts have confirmed no immediate cure but have suggested alternative methods for dealing with it.
My father being my father, has found through experience that the only thing that eases the pain of this ASSfixiation is to inform the said ass that they are an ASSHOLE. Now he doesn’t whisper this under his breath, or do it behind their backs, no, my father being my father, does it directly to their faces. This is how the scene goes: the ass will present the behavioural tendencies of an ass, my father goes red in the face and starts frothing at the mouth, and then let’s a out a BOOM BOOM BOOM ASSHOLE. Conversation over, walk away. Done. Period. And then the world starts spinning again.
If you’ve lived in my household for long enough, you take this scene for what it is, comedy. My father has a condition, he can’t help himself. Now, everyone, and I mean everyone, has been called an ASSHOLE: starting with the maid, the gardener, the cashier at the grocery store, the teller at the bank, the petrol attendant at the garage, the neighbour, the cousin, the nephew, the children, the dog, the referee, the TV, the plumber, the electrician, the ex-wives, Thierry Henry and so it goes on and on and on. Don’t get mad, he has a condition, he can’t help himself.
If you’ve lived in my household for long enough you will also have learnt exactly what behavioural traits trigger the ASSfixiation. Being that I’m my father’s daughter, I think, I’m just gonna come straight out with it and say that never before have I come into contact with such a high concentration of ASSHOLES in such a small amount of space and time.
If you already know who you are at this point and feel insulted, don’t get mad, my father has a condtition. If you’re not sure, keep reading. I’m about to channel my father.
To the one who sent me a text message at 11h50pm on Friday night to say “wake up” and then another one at exactly 1:20am on Saturday morning to say “can u text me the bus times from Daegu to Kunsan”. Ummmm, no, I was sleeping……..ASSHOLE. I just needed to get that one off my chest.
To the ones who TAKE TAKE TAKE but never GIVE GIVE GIVE……..ASSHOLE ASSHOLE ASSHOLE.
To the ones who’ve spent holiday seasons with me, ones who I’ve invited into my home, cooked for, shared a drink with, bought gifts for, given time to but who seem to have developed amnesia, deleted me off facebook farewell events because I’ve taken too long to respond or leave without saying goodbye…….ASSHOLE.
To the ones who say they don’t have girlfriends when actually they do and still call me to meet them downtown for a drink……..…ASSHOLE
To the ones I deleted off facebook but who continue to stalk me…..ASSHOLE
To the ones who think I’m a concierge disguised as a friend…….ASSHOLE
And lastly, my favourites, to the ones I offer a helping hand to but want to take my whole arm, and more……….ASSHOLE
Don’t get mad now, my father has a condition, he can’t help himself.
This seems like a good time to take Kanye West’s advice and use the thug plan and runaway as fast as I can!