During my travels, I find myself muttering the word “shithead” a lot. You know, on account of all the shitheads out there. And today I begin the process of attempting to curate them all. This is Exhibit 1, and there shall be more, plenty more. Oh, this could go on for a while…
People who drive on the interstate with their windows down
There are two subcategories for this one, admittedly. If you have a rolling junkyard, with missing window cranks, one neon-blue fender, and a family of squirrels living in the ductwork of an air conditioning system that hasn’t functioned since the first Gulf War, then you have no other options during the summer. I still have questions, of course, but not about the windows being down.
What I’m talking about are people with newish cars who drive on the interstate, or other fast-moving roadways, with their hair whipping around inside a vortex of Zagnut wrappers and Hardee’s bags. For them, it’s a choice: the choice of shitheads.
It bugs me, because I think it’s a redneck affectation. A close cousin/lover to people who back into parking spaces… For some reason they think it’s badass. And the mere fact they believe something like that pisses me off.
Or they’re know-it-alls, and have a lot of pre-programmed “facts” about how it saves x amount of fuel per mile, etc. It’s utter horseshit, I suspect, and even if it’s true… I don’t care. I’ll gladly pay double.
Or — and this is the worst one — they supposedly can’t tolerate “artificially cooled air.” Have you heard that one? If you have, and refrained from rolling your eyes in a giant theatrical fashion, you’re a better person than I.
People who heat up fish in the work microwave
This one’s about lack of consideration. Why not just tip to one side and blow a big cabbage fart? The break room at work is communal, shitheads. Think of the others, before you render it unusable for three days, with your Chernobyl stank-carp or whatever.
I used to come to work and find seeds from a hoagie roll in my keyboard, sticky crap smeared all over my desk, and a toxic oniony mess in my trashcan. And I’d flip completely out.
“This is my desk, not a goddamn picnic table!” I’d shout at my supervisor. He pretended to be sympathetic, but I later learned he mocked my outbursts, and reenacted them in an exaggerated pantomime. Yes, it’s important to have a strong support network… In any case, I raised so much hell, it stopped happening — almost immediately. It was probably him.
So, when I say “people who heat up fish,” what I really mean is people who are inconsiderate with their nasty, stinky food at work, and impose it upon the rest of us. Shitheads, one and all.
People who suddenly care deeply
This happens with sports all the time. Shitheads don’t know a thing about what’s going on, until the playoffs start. Then they’ve got the metaphorical foam finger on, waving it around, and sobbing into a platter of hot wings and whatnot.
Because it’s temporarily trendy to care.
Hell, it’s going on right now with the USA soccer team. And give me a hand-rolled break on that one. You dickheads didn’t even KNOW there was a team three weeks ago. Charlatans!
But it’s not only about sports. It’s about anything that’s deemed trendy and cool. Like when the poet Maya Angelou died a few weeks ago… Facebook was suddenly overrun by longtime lovers of literature. Ha! Most of those shitheads haven’t heard or read a poem since ‘Milk, milk, lemonade/’round the corner fudge is made.’
And it happens with cool diseases, or causes like that #BringBackOurGirls thing. It’s not really about the cause, I suspect, but how people think it makes them look on social media. See, I care. Probably more than you do, when it gets right down to it. I’m not saying I’m better, but we both know the truth, don’t we?