The other day a Facebook friend of mine tried to get me to sign a petition to ban smoking — in certain outdoor areas.  Do we really have to run to the government to protect us every time something we don’t like happens nowadays?  Likewise, a few weeks ago, a New York assemblyman

I’ll tell you where: Pussy town. Dodgeball has been banned, along with hazing and any sport that might burn calories or harm grass.  Everyone’s a delicate little flower now. Hell, half the time the neighborhood kids won’t even sit still when I’m trying to play Amateur Surgery Van.  Is this the kind of society we want to build?  How am I supposed to practice amateur surgery?

The world needs consequences, and there just aren’t enough anymore.  It used to be, a bad decision could get you eaten by lion.  Now, it’s the premise for entire reality shows.  Unless we want to build a society of useless, obnoxious a-holes, we’re going to have to take things into our own hands, or more specifically, fists. To that end, here’s a list of things people do which should warrant an automatic ass kicking, for the greater good.  And yes, I am actually advocating that you commit acts of violence on certain people.  If they threaten to sue or press charges, just tell them Danny Masterson sent you.

10. Playing Ultimate Frisbee

"Way to go, Brad, you almost ollied the queef!" Seriously though, what the hell do they call a point in Ultimate Frisbee?

If you had to put on cleats and forearm sweatbands in order to play Frisbee… you’re doing it wrong.  Frisbee was not meant to be a sport.  It was meant to hover slowly so that you could still catch it when you’re dangerously high.  Our hippie parents invented it because they hated sports, then when their obnoxious kids tried to turn it into one, they were too lazy to discourage it. You’ve screwed us again, you lazy GD hippies.  Real sports don’t need an extreme adjective at the beginning. There’s a reason there’s no “Maximum Tetherball” league.  And if the proper ass kickings were being handed out the way Jesus intended, neither would there be Ultimate Frisbee, the sport of Caucasian hemophiliacs.

9.  Having a Ukulele

You can’t ride a fixed-gear around Brooklyn without snagging your messenger bag on some shiftless trust-fund vegan with a ukulele.  What, was the acoustic guitar not obnoxious-sounding enough for you?  Too big to bust out at inopportune times? Hawaiians are the only people to get a pass on this, and do you know why?  No, not because they invented it.  Because Hawaiians are the only people big and scary enough to negate the potential ass kicking that should naturally accompany ukulele playing.

One of these photos has been altered slightly. Can you tell which?

If you’re a 285-pound Polynesian who could mash my face into poi and you’ve got a buzz and want to play us a love song, by all means.  If you’re an 85-pound sidebangs farmer wearing pointy white wingtips you bought at a thrift store and your girlfriend’s jeans, you better hope Whole Foods’ health plan covers ukulele-related beatings.  (And I doubt it. It sure as hell doesn’t cover cucumber mishaps).

8.  Drinking White Wine at a Bar

Whenever I see someone drinking white wine at a bar, I sidle up, and in my best American Psycho voice say, "I don't want to get you drunk, but that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking."

Unless you’re watching a Richard Gere marathon at home with the girls, there’s really no excuse for drinking Chardonnay.  Bars are for getting drunk, not for finding the perfect compliment to your grilled swordfish. There’s a reason the kind of drinks that should be ordered at bars come in bottles and heavy-bottomed glasses, and not gay little trumpet sticks.  People are going to be shoving by you all night in order to find a place to pee or puke, or to hit on my girlfriend, who’s apparently the town whore.  The last thing you need is a drink container that’s structurally unsound.  Of course, you could say the same for martinis.  Save for one thing:

Martinis are bad ass.  They’re basically straight booze and were probably invented by an alcoholic stepdad.

“Hey, chitferbrains, make me a coggtaail.”

“What do you want in it?”

“Straighdt gin.”

“Straight gin?  If I don’t mix it, it’s not really a cocktail, is it?”

“Pussome onions innit then.  And olive brine.  F-ggot.”

7.  Being This Guy

Dammit, I punched my computer again.

This is Chad from Million Dollar Listing.  He thinks he’s bad ass because he sells real estate and once got his dog a pedicure.  And consider: that was when he knew he had a camera crew following him.  He just has that magnetic quality, by which I mean it’s impossible not to want to punch him until he pees blood.  The single redeeming thing he’s done in his entire life is provide me an easy segue to this next point…

6.  Being Named Chad

Shakespeare famously wrote, “Would a rose by any other name still smell as sweet?” The answer is almost, unless the rose was named Chad, in which case it’d be an obnoxious d-ckhead.  It’s just science. In fact, try to imagine that line being written by a guy named “Chad Shakespeare.”  Impossible.  He’d probably just get a rose tattoo with “Sweet” written under it instead.

Also named Chad: the lead singer of Nickelback

5. Being Proud of Not Owning a TV

Madame Cat told us a funny story she heard on NPR today, and we just laughed and laughed...

You know the type: oh, I don’t watch TV.  Always with the snotty inflection, as if they could scarcely bear the thought of even having something in common with the rest of us mindless peons. Look, if you’re so easily influenced that even having a TV in your house is enough to tempt you away from all those ever-so-important things you’d otherwise be doing, like organizing your incense sticks by region and writing your cat’s memoirs, maybe you’re the stupid one.  That’s right, stupid like your stupid face. You think yer better’n me?  Pff, have fun with your books, p*ssy.

4. Having Dreadlocks While Being White

Dreadlocks are what naturally happens to hair when it isn’t washed or combed, or when you don’t beat your kid’s ass enough for thinking he’s special.  You know what other white people have dreads?  Homeless people. If you’re so desperate to look poor, mine me some coal.  I need it for my giant, coal-powered robot that eats hippies.

"Rooooound heeeere, we don't like sham-poo..."

3.  Yelling Into a Cell Phone in a Confined Space


Somehow we’ve made it t0 2010 with people still thinking a receiver works better when you scream directly into it like the deaf kid’s ear.  Not only that, they seem adamant that the entire world should hear their half of the conversation.


True story: A friend of mine was sitting across the aisle from a guy on a bus who was loudly finding out by phone that his wife was pregnant.  She mouthed “Congratulations” to him since he’d been looking almost directly at her the entire time anyway, and his response was to give her a dirty look and turn the other direction. It was her mistake.  The proper way to congratulate cell phone guy on his new baby, his latest business deal, the skank he hooked up with last night, or anything else is with your fist.

2. Being the Cape Cod *sshole

You know the type: pastel shirt tucked into ugly shorts and those yacht-club shoes with no socks.  It’s one of the few outfits that’s actually more obnoxious when worn unironically.  Imagine it: you’re just hanging out, trying to enjoy your casual summer day, when some a-hole has to ruin it by showing up looking like Little Lord Fauntleroy Attends the Regatta. My public-school education may not have taught me how to spell or count, but at least I learned not to go out in public looking like a total chode boy.  At my school, we wore our shorts long with our socks pulled up so no leg would show like in the prison yard, but that’s probably just because I went to the Mexican school.

1. Playing Quidditch

For the Northeastern liberal-arts student who deems Ultimate Frisbee too lacking in cape wearing and wizardry, there’s Quidditch.  It’s a game in which chasers attempt to throw the quaffle through a hoop, seekers chase the snitch, and after a few minutes everyone needs to borrow an inhaler.  Meanwhile, the parents wonder where they went wrong.  I’ll tell you where: not enough beatings.  Also: sending your kid to Middlebury.  You’re paying $50 grand a year so your kid can play a made-up sport from a book aimed at 10-year-olds.  A sport that relied heavily on a magic ball and flying broomsticks, I might add.  This may not be the most common of activities that beg for an ass kicking, but it certainly begs the hardest.  Where I’m from, it was just called “Ouch My Face.”

Submit Your Own:

This list could go on far longer, but daddy needs a drink.  Therefore, in the comments, don’t tell me how you play Ultimate Frisbee and you can totally kick my ass, or how your cousin is white and has dreads and what about Chad Johnson?  No one cares.   Use it to submit your own activity that deserves its own ass kicking, because I know I missed plenty.  And no, we will not accept “Making asinine internet lists”, smart guy.

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