Because you can’t spell hate without “hat”December 2, 2009
I’m brought out of a coma-like sleep by cat claws digging into my back. I’m a stomach sleeper for a number of reasons, one of which is it’s much harder for someone to cut off my penis in my sleep. Sure, I’m completely vulnerable to things being shoved in my ass, but those are the sacrifices we make in the war to keep our genitals.
When that doesn’t move me from my slumber I feel a paw bop me in the eye, forcing me to open it and acknowledge Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat sitting before me.
“Why are you in my house?” I ask.
“You’re on my front lawn,” says Bernie. And so I am. “You blurted out something about Mikka and Samurai Cathy’s relationship making you sick, drank a whole bunch of rum and ammonia, then ran out of the bar. What the hell was that about?”
“Hmm… I must have been wearing the Asshole Hat,” I say.
“Like a visor or a Yankees cap?” says Bernie.
“No, the Asshole Hat is worse than those hats,” I say. “It’s a special hat everyone wears now and again when they get into a really foul mood and the joy of others actually causes you pain, so you lash out to destroy that joy or at least the person having said joy. Not to prop yourself up, mind you, but to bring them down to your deep misery level.”
“Damn, that’s some Asshole Hat,” says Bernie. “That’s way different than just the every day dickishness people usually display.”
“I blame Denis Leary for watering down the term Asshole,” I say. “Too many people think they’re being Assholes when they’re just really being Dicks. Dicks are full of themselves. They have an overinflated sense of self-worth and self-opinion. There’s an emptiness to an Asshole.”
“When you stare into the Asshole, the Asshole stares back at you,” says Bernie.
“Now some people may try to fill their Asshole with things,” I say. “Try to gussy it up with political spectrum affiliations or religious beliefs or national heritage or saying that they’re just calling ’em as they see ’em. But in reality it’s still a gaping Asshole they’ve got behind all that window dressing. They just want all the Asshole benefits without paying any of the Asshole tolls.”
“There’s an Asshole tollbooth?” says Bernie.
“Actually it’s more like a bank,” I say. “While you wear the Asshole Hat you borrow from the Asshole Bank, until such time as you take off the Hat. But then you’ve got an Asshole Debt that you need to repay to all the people you were a complete Asshole to, else they still think of you as the Asshole Hat guy.”
“So your Asshole always comes out in the red?” says Bernie.
“Well, if you’re smart and know you’re prone to put on the Hat, you build up anti-Asshole credit with your friends,” I say. “Sometimes it’s enough and your friends just shake it off, say you had a bad day or a bad week or something. Sometimes it’s not.”
“How do you take the Asshole Hat off?” says Bernie.
“Sometimes it just falls off. Like something good happens, improves your outlook on life, and blows it right off your head,” I say. “Other times you have to put on the Asshole Hat so tight that you rip right through it. It’s like going to the South Pole. You go south and you go south and then you get to the point where there’s nowhere else to go but north.”
“North out of the Asshole,” says Bernie. “So how much Asshole debt do you think you owe this time around?”