I was lying in the dirt and the wood chips and the sparse shrubbery. A largeish bump was already beginning to form on the back of my head from where it had impacted with the cement planter behind me. My glasses were in the dirt to my left. A very large man had a hold of my jacket. Seven or eight of his buddies were standing beside and around him. Collectively, they advised me not to stand up.

This happened last night.

Several moments before this I was raising my fist in an ineffective milquetoast swing. Several moments before that he was attempting to blow bubbles in my face with tiny bottle of bubble solution that might have come from a wedding reception or might not have just as easily. Several moments before that I was hurling a coffee cup — the sort that fits atop a insulated vacuum bottle — at the back of his head. And several moments before that he was lifting one of his butt cheeks in the characteristic manner and farting in my face.

I am 28 years-old. I’ll turn 29 next week.

This douchebag was able to fart into my face because I was sitting on a bench drinking a cup of coffee. It was about 10:30 at night. I had arrived early. I had to work the overnight shift last night. The overnight shift begins at 11:00 PM and ends at 7:30 AM. Half-an-hour for “lunch” is unpaid. Every other month I have to come in to work for one weekend — Saturday night and Sunday night — and work the graveyard shift.

I was early in getting to work, unlike the previous night when a decision to take the ‘L’ turned out to be ill-advised and time-consuming. Rather than go inside and wait out the difference in the break room I elected to take a seat outside for 20 minutes or so. The weather was nice.

I was sitting on a bench drinking my coffee preparing myself for 8 more hours of work on 3½ hours of sleep. A squad of men passed by me presumably en route from a local bar. From the looks of them I’d hazard it was a sports bar. The last one in the group stopped in front of me and unmistakably passed gas less than a foot from my face. The malevolence of this act was unquestionable.

This was too much. This was a line crossed. On one side a normal, albeit unpleasant, evening at work. On the other, barbarism. My judgement snapped. This uncivil act I could not allow to go unremarked, despite the obvious disadvantage I faced.

The coffee cup I once held I hurled towards the back of the oaf’s head. I had probably intended to splash it on him. I had probably hoped it was still hot. Scalding. Much of it became a blurry slideshow.

There was much cursing. He played coy, produced a bubble wand, and attempted to blow bubbles at me. I saw red. Not literally. I raised a fist, a worthless gesture for a wimp such as myself. I ended up on the ground with a knot on my head.

I spent the night replaying the incident in my head, imagining what might have transpired had I been quicker or cleverer. There’s no way I could have ever “won” unless I just grinned and let a fucktard stick his ass in my face.

Held down and mocked, I was humiliated just as I was back then in the halls of high school, except I was never actually physically threatened back then. Admittedly, yes, I exacerbated the situation this time. But for fuck’s sake, do we just let these walking abortions just do as they will.

Yeah, we probably do. Just like in high school, meatheaded fucks like these continue to win.

Virginian voters, I can’t say that I’m surprised at you. A little disappointed, but I never had my hopes up too high that you might not be swayed by homophobia. As has been widely reported, the wording of this amendment is so unneccesarily draconian as to threaten partnerships both homosexual and heterosexual. The text of our new amendment is as follows:

“That only a union between one man and one woman may be a marriage valid in or recognized by this Commonwealth and its political subdivisions.

“This Commonwealth and its political subdivisions shall not create or recognize a legal status for relationships of unmarried individuals that intends to approximate the design, qualities, significance, or effects of marriage. Nor shall this Commonwealth or its political subdivisions create or recognize another union, partnership, or other legal status to which is assigned the rights, benefits, obligations, qualities, or effects of marriage.”

At least it looks like you all did not allow macaca to serve another term. Whether this puts a quash on his presidential aspirations remains to be seen.

Oh, and Rick Santorum lost! How fucking awesome is that?

Lately I’ve been taken with watching the two X-Men movies when I’ve nothing better to do. I used to do the same thing with Spider-Man, but after the n^th^ viewing I’ve gotten almost all the lines memorized and all I want to do is watch the sequel anyhow. Right now though, it’s the X-Men, and I keep finding more to like in them every time.

Last night, while watching the first movie yet again I was struck by Senator Kelly’s impassioned speech to the Senate in the first part of the film. Specifically this bit:

I think the American people deserve the right to decide if they want their children to be in school with mutants, to be taught by mutants.

I thought to myself, “That sounds awful familiar, doesn’t it self?”

We all know that the mutations of X-Men are simply exciting and fanciful depictions of nearly any lifestyle outside the mainstream of society be it homosexuality, nerdiness, plant fuckers, whatever. It’s a lot more interesting when these outcasts can shoot lasers or fly or read minds.

Not too long ago the Republican candidate for Senate here in the Palmetto State Jim DeMint said that if teachers were “openly gay. [He] did not think they should be teaching in a public school.” No really, he said that. I only changed the pronoun.

(That’s not all. He also said unmarried pregnant women were unfit to teach children. No, I’m serious.)

Yes indeed. Folks running for office, federal office no less, still manage to say insane shit like you might read in a comic book.