Try this: try being an asshole. And characterize yourself. What will assholes like you do? What will they think?
An asshole like me will see a tiny fruit fly dash between my face and my book and will be moved that there is life other than me in my kitchen.
An asshole like me will long-time-dip panettone in eggs, cream, and orange liqueur (cause I’m out of bourbon) to fry it up in butter during a morning snow storm for eating while reading American Gods. And will classify this as a top lush morning.
An asshole like me imagines that you are out there and that you will be that one, this one, The one. And that you’ll love and cherish me and you and us and that we’ll find each other finally and soon without suffocating each other or sacrificing anything about who it is that we can individually be. But on the contrary boost, supersize, level up.
An asshole like me thinks it’s probably too late.
An asshole like me will drive mice out of a house (not even my house, some other asshole’s house) for a couple of miles so they can have a chance somewhere else in some wildernessy park. Yes drive them in a car. In a container with a lid. Shut up about turning them into prey.
An asshole like me will want you to hang out with me for a little bit. Assholes like me don’t know contemporary music and discover things late. This is where assholes like me are at. In love at:
And please, oh pretty please, share.