Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

Human beings are violent creatures, much like most of the other creatures on Earth. While there are those among us that feel we’ve finally begun to assuage this tendency from our species, the instinctual basis for this characteristic is far from gone. Everything from a granny pinching her disobedient grandchild to the tactical missile strike on an insurgent outpost in Mosul, force is, and will be for a very long time, the most effective and realistic punishment and deterrent we have.

In many ways, however, violence, in its more mundane forms has been minimized, if not eradicated, from our daily lives. The paddling a of a disruptive student, the flogging of a heretic in the public square, and the tarring and feathering of witches, has all fallen by the wayside of history. Unfortunately, the basis for these actions, the pure unadulterated anger from whence these actions came, has not been addressed. Sure, folks don’t get whipped in public anymore, but where does all that public anger go now ( aside from a crazed mob stampeding on innocent women and children for a cheap laptop)?

Human anger and violence is a necessary component of the human experience. We are emotional, irrational at times, and ultimately capable of extreme acts of brutality. This fact has not and will never change, no matter how many peace vigils you attend, burning candles you clutch to your peace-loving bosom or how often you vote for the Green party. Even Ralph Nader certainly has to fight the urge to raise his fist in anger when a well-spoken person in a smart suit starts talking about “free markets” and “consumer choice” and other “founding principles of the greatest and most successful nation on Earth” gobbledygook.

So where does all this aggression go, in this peace-loving 21st century? Aside from the drinking, most of it falls squarely on the shoulders of those that most deserve it: retail customers.

Don’t pretend to be shocked. Don’t pretend you’ve never done it. Don’t pretend you’ve never been tempted spit in that club sandwich, or slip Visine into that Cosmo with a twist (even though the rumor that Visine ingestion will cause the hot poops is a total myth). We all worked retail at some point in our lives, and all of us have experienced customers that made us drop the popcorn scooper on the floor a few more than times than usual, and then rub it on our junk a few times for good measure.

A friend once told me about working at an upscale restaurant on Boston’s swanky Newbury St. strip. He was waiting on a table of obnoxious middle-aged women, all going on about the diets they had all recently started, how much money they’d spent that day and how they’d love to have the duck but it would go straight to their thighs. After the meal, they wouldn’t leave, and kept asking my friend to bring them pitcher after pitcher of water, “Do you have Fiji? No? Evian then, maybe fill half the pitcher with ice, and can you cut some lemons? Not those on the bar, those have been out all day, can you cut come fresh?” They just kept drinking water, positively gushing about how good it was for you and how they ALL drank at least ten glasses a day, while everyone in the restaurant rolled their eyes in unison. That afternoon, these four women drank eight pitchers of water, but what they’ll never know is that pitchers 3-8 were painstakingly filled from the toiletbowl in the men’s restroom.



LaChania Goven called her cable company to complain about poor channel reception, but was transferred back and forth between customer service reps and was eventually disconnected. When she called again, in a real tiff, she was transferred to a rep that only spoke Spanish, a language LaChania does not understand. What she did understand, however, was when she got her cable bill that following month, and it was addressed to “Bitch Dog.”

“”I was like ‘you gotta be freaking kidding me.’” Said Govan, 25. “I was so mad, I couldn’t even cuss.””

LaChania has subsequently cancelled her service from Comcast.

In a related story, People’s Energy of Chicago has been sending bills addressed to Jefferoy “Scrotum Bag” Barnes for almost three months. The odd thing is that Jefferoy has never made any complaint against his energy company. Needless to say, Jefferoy is currently consulting with an attorney to see if he’s entitled to any monetary damages, though I can’t imagine how he would be.



In defense of all the schleps that pour our coffee, sling our eggs and mix our drinks, they put up with a lot from the jerks they’re duty-bound to serve, and they deserve the right to vent their frustration once in a while. We’ve all been in that position, and many of us still are. So don’t cause a fuss when the dessert-spoon you get has been all snotted up. Don’t make a scene when your cheeseburger arrives as more of a “feces-burger.” You probably did something pretty bad for your cell phone bill to be addressed to Luke “Has Sex with the Corpses of Farm Animals” Sonnier, and it’s way better than a punch in the face.

Fucking Update

The town of Fucking, Austria has released another statement to the English-speaking world: Good luck stealing our Fucking signs, now!