To the overweight guy at my parents' pool with the giant man-boobs...Please kindly stop wearing those wet t-shirts. You're confusing the hell out of the kids.
To Andrew...You're one of my best friends and I love you like a brother but if you ever use an emoticon in an e-mail to me again, we’re breaking up. Since when did you become a 12-year-old Japanese schoolgirl?
To the older girl at the playground who keeps bullying my daughter...I'm generally a non-violent man so I would never resort to violence or physical threats. But I swear, if you push my little daughter again, I"m going to give you an eating disorder.
To Barry Bonds...Congratulations. Now please leave. Seriously. Go away.
To the homeless guys who sleep outside my door every night...You really crossed a line the other night when you both got completely butt naked and started "taking a shower" during that torrential downpour. That really wasn't what I needed to see outside my building coming home after a long day at work. I'll bet this shit doesn't happen in Connecticut.
To my Korean limo driver...As a fellow Korean, I'm familiar with the fact that some of our foods can be quite pungent. That's why I generally avoid eating kimchi on days when I have client meetings. You, however, are quite remarkable. The awesomely horrific odor you subjected me to during our 45 minute drive to JFK Airport was the perfect admixture of pickled cabbage, Parliament cigarettes, sweat, Old Spice, and soju. Well done, sir. Well done.
To the Child-Free "movement"...If you are not a parent, it's virtually impossible to understand the
immeasurable love that you develop for your child. Words frequently
fail to convey how powerful that love can be. Whenever I attempt to do so, it's clear that my words annoy the crap out of you. Question: why not just go somewhere else? Who the hell has time to actually sit down and write hate mail merely because someone is trying to talk about his love for his daughter? Apparently you do, you pathetic fucking losers.
To the guy who called me a "FUCKING CHINK" on the subway this morning...
In the overheated ant farm known as the NYC subway system, it's part of the social contract that exiting passengers be allowed to get out of the train before incoming passengers enter. Apparently, you're too much of an ignorant fuck to understand this common-sense rule that has been in place since the days of Noah's ark. No, my friend, you obviously felt some sense of entitlement. When I didn't budge to let you on the train because I was getting out, you felt compelled to call me a "fucking chink."
Normally, I don't take that shit lightly. I've only been in 6 fights over the course of my lifetime and they were all because someone felt compelled to slander me with racial epithets. Just so you know? I'm 6 for 6 in those fights. Don't fuck with an angry Asian man!
Anyway, the only reason I didn't throw your racist ass under the train tracks today was because YOU WERE WITH YOUR FUCKING KID!
Man, at that point, I just felt horrible for your little daughter. I felt terrible that she has a father filled with so much hate that every little misstep in daily life turns into a potential interpersonal Gulf of Tonkin incident. I felt disgusted knowing that she's being raised by a man who can spew racial epithets at the drop of a hat. And I felt worse thinking that, without proper perspective and life experience, she might end up adopting your racist views as her own.
In the end, I kept coming back to that brilliant Denis Leary quote, "Racism isn't born, folks, it's taught. I have a two-year-old son. You know what he hates? Naps! End of list."
I hope your daughter realizes what a total fucking asshole you are and grows up to reject not only you but everything you represent. That, my acerbic little friend, would be an even greater revenge than kicking your ass up and down 7th Avenue.
That's it for me. YOUR turn now...