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| 09.21.2007 - Following Fantasy | 4:34 PM | | Author: RP (randy@pollestad.net) | Score 4.7/5 (3 Votes) |
| Dreams can be a funny thing. Dreams can also be a scary thing but
we call those nightmares so they don't really qualify. These
glorious night visions can at once instill us with both hope and ambition;
the driving joy that fills us up like a three gallon gas can and we realize
that we can be whatever we want to be. But maybe you're poor and you
don't have a gas can. Now all of your metaphorical gas is leaking all
over the place, stinking the whole joint up and causing irreparable damage
to the environment. What are you supposed to do then? Crying
has always worked for me. It doesn't help recapture your lost dream
but it sure beats going on a rampage with a butter knife.
From a very young age, we indoctrinate our children that possibilities
are limitless, the sky is the limit, and that they can achieve in life
whatever they wish. As parents, we know that this is a lie and yet
we continue to spread this infectious falsehood to our youth like it was
fetal alcohol syndrome. I had a dream once. As a misguided
youth armed solely with the knowledge that my potential was infinite, I
set out to be the prettiest princess in all the land. My tiny mind
didn't quite grasp subtle things like gender differences and chromosomes
and I continually met with failure after failure in pursuit of my new
life goal. It would have been nice if someone would have stepped up
and mentioned the whole "guys become kings" thing before I wasted all of
that lawn mowing money on a wand, tiara, and gown. Crushed, I eventually
realized that I had to give up hope on ever fulfilling my only dream and
finally dismissed my fairy godmother who, in reality, was really just
a guy named Steve that I picked up while hitchhiking in San Francisco.
Fast forwarding many years later, I was a grown adult living with nothing
to live for; jaded that all that is hopeful eventually turns to failure.
I was a man without a plan, a video game character with no more
levels to beat. That was, of course, until today. For out of the
ashes rises a phoenix of aspiration lending hope and purpose for a lonely
guy who couldn't hack it as a princess. I had, at long last, finally
found a dream that I could turn into a reality and provide me a reason for
being. Screw all that royalty pageantry crap for I had found my true
calling. I found something that I, Randy Pollestad, could excel at.
I was destined to become an asshole.
Now, you might be saying to yourself, "but Randy, you're already an asshole."
This is true. However, I am not the best asshole that I can
be. On the surface, being an asshole sounds easy. You run into
people like that every day. Sorry to break it to you but those people
are only pseudo-assholes, probably more stupid than anything and only
stumbled upon the asshole category out of sheer luck. No, to be a
true asshole, such as what I aspire to be, takes planning, strategy, and a
willingness to change the game; to put yourself above all others and damn
the consequences. It's a long journey but any worthwhile goal should
be. Below, I have outlined some initial steps that I plan on taking
towards my dream of being Supreme Asshole. These are totally copyrighted
and stuff so I don't want you thinking that you can just come in and steal
them. I will beat your marshmallow ass down with a claw hammer if you
even try. (You see what I did there? How I was mean? It's
all a part of the master plan.)
My initial baby asshole steps are:
- Acquire a 1984 Pinto sans insurance and drive through the rich parts of
town ignoring all traffic signs and laws in hopes that I crash into as many
cars as possible.
- Hit every laundromat in town and put a packet of red dye into each load of
whites. As people leave, I will stand in the parking lot and call each
of them a communist sympathizer.
- Take frequent smoke breaks in the pregnancy ward at the local hospital.
- Write one letter each day to both members of the group Milli Vanilli reminding
them about how they were caught lip syncing and had to give their grammy back.
- Head down to Jena, Louisiana and chop down the "white tree"
just to see if my proficiency with a chainsaw is up to snuff.
- Post up outside of the emergency room entrance and trip everyone who comes in
or out of the door.
However, to truly be the asshole that I want to be, it's going to take more than
what amounts to little more than juvenile pranks. I am going to have to
elevate the bar so high that crippled people would need a ramp to get there but
I would refuse to build one and revel in mocking them. That is the only
way to reach true asshole status. So, how do I plan on accomplishing that?
Simple.
My "high roller" asshole steps are:
- Call up every mother in Texas and inform them that their daughters, despite
a decent upbringing, are now addicted to crack and working the streets of New
York to support their habit. Then tell them that I am only kidding
because their daughter is dead.
- Reserve a four hour Sunday morning block of television airtime on some
conservative Christian cable network and display the words "Right now,
a gay person is fantasizing about you" over and over again.
- Go on a nationwide tour and educate college kids that going on a shooting
rampage on their campus won't solve their problems. Bombs work much more
efficiently. Random shootings are so passe.
- Launch my new line of bumper stickers that say "I'd support the troops if
they were winning." Rooting for the losing team is a wasted effort.
- Set fire to Sarah Silverman because she is an unfunny, horse-faced whore
who deserves nothing less than life-ending pain.
- Display the effects of gravity and laws of motion to heavily obese people by
constantly pushing them down steep hills.
- Take a starving child from the shelter on a field trip to McDonalds. I'd
ask him what he wanted and order it from the menu. We'd sit down and his
eyes would get big as he started to drool. I'd then proceed to eat whatever
it was I ordered because I paid for it and he didn't have any money. I would
repeat this each week until I ran out of children.
While the steps on this list are numerous, they should by no means be considered
complete. The world of assholery is a wide playing field and provides
ever-changing means for which someone like me can better themselves by continuing
to demean others. As I further practice my craft and fulfill my lifelong dream of becoming a true asshole, I will send periodic updates on my progress sealed with a
smug sense of satisfaction that I am better than you. For once I have
accomplished all of that shall my quest for dream completeness be finished. |
| | (2 comments) - Read Comments - Add Comment - Rate This Update |
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| | RE: Following Fantasy (#1055) - [Reply To Comment]
by Wood (68.107.123.233) on September 24, 2007 (6:47 AM) PST | | Now that's what I'm talkin' bout! (I don't even know what that means...) |
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| RE: Following Fantasy (#1056) - [Reply To Comment]
by RP (199.106.103.254) on September 24, 2007 (10:20 AM) PST | | Actually, no. That's what I am talking about. That's what you read about because I took the time to write about what I was talking about. You, however, are allowed to talk about this to other people who may have not been privvy to me writing about what I was originally talking about. Thanks. |
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