In Chin Deep

Have you ever been asked, “Do you mind if I smoke?” This question usually comes from an asshole smoker who seeks to light up in your vicinity.

I have been asked this question and I truly fuckin hate it. And to be honest, I have to stereotype every idiot who has ever asked me a question this dumb. Such a dumb question can mean one of two things. The first option; this retarded cunt  really has no idea how impolite it is to blow toxic fumes in another human being’s face. And I don’t mean retarded in the cute, I-was-born-with-a-disability way, either. The other option is that they just don’t care.   Here’s a recent situation I found myself in:

Part 1:
Stupid-face asks me, “Do you mind if I smoke.” In my head, I’m thinking do you mind if I drop my drawers and shit on your shoes. Unfortunately, I instead reply, “Not at all.”

Part 2:
Douchebag starts sucking on his cigarette like Andy Dick sucks penis at a pride parade. Upon exhale, scumbag is kind enough to angle his smelly, tar-cover lips upward such that only half of his toxin cloud ends up in my face and eventually, in my lungs only to be the cause of my miserable silver years spent on Oxygen in a hospital bed. Not only is this courtesy ineffective, it also makes douchebag look even more like a douchebag.

Part 3:
Smokey the bear throws his cigarette on the ground. Of course, there’s no fuckin way he’s going to pick it up. Besides, it’s socially acceptable to leave cigarettes on the ground. But at least he steps on it, reducing the odds that it causes a fire. What courtesy. Give this douche-fucker an award.

Part 4:
Douche-licker hops in his hybrid and cruises off. What an environmentalist. I should have slit his throat when I had the chance.

In dealing with a question so baffling stupid, I tend to go through the following emotional steps.  It’s important to note that, in any given circumstance, I may skip a step. It really depends on how the rest of my day is going.

Emotion #1: Sadness

At first, I feel very sad. I’d rather this individual not smoke in my prescience. My therapist told me that I should tell others how I feel. I wish she was here to help me right now…

I consciously attempt to move out of this phase because I’m starting to feel like a pussy.

Emotion #2: Anger

Next, I begin to feel upset. I start to consider how selfish this question really is. I begin to wonder, Is this idiot trying to disrespect me? He/she must be. No person could be so fuckin stupid to think that this is “okay” for them to spit in my face.

Things (in my brain) are starting to heat up. Can I keep in control?

Emotion #3: Aggressive

My brain is now on fire and my body begins to tremble. Suddenly, I catch myself glancing around the room. Are there any sharp objects nearby? How will I escape?

Is this normal? I think to myself. Of course it is. This is what Darwin meant by survival of the fittest. The voices become stronger and now there’s little  hope of turning back.

Emotion #4: Acceptance

Suddenly, I get a hold of my emotions.  My eyes rid themselves of the bloody, bulging veins which seemed to carry with them the fury of a Spartan Warrior. I begin to realize that, although the schmuck standing before me may deserve a royal ass-whooping, I should just distance myself. Walk away, the voices say, walk away…

Stupid Questions Require Stupid Answers

If you’re ever short of an idea for an appropriate response to the world’s most idiotic question, try one of these. For your convenience, I’ve broken them down by situation:
A buddy you’ve known forever asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

Not at all scumbag. You’ve been asshole since the day I’ve met you. Go ahead and smoke and blow that shit right in my face. After all, I did sleep with your sister.

A pretty girl (whom you have not just had sex with) asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

If by smoke you mean smoke my cock, then of course. But don’t expect me to call you when it’s done. I’m not into relationships, skank-ass.

A pretty girl (whom you just had sex with) asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

Not at all. You can smoke. Just take your skanky little ass outside and do it. (Once she goes outside, lock the door behind her and don’t return her calls). It’s for her own good.

A man or woman with child asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

I don’t, and neither does your soon-to-be asthmatic son. Then again, he probably won’t need his weak little lungs functioning correctly anyways. He’ll probably grow up to be just like you, douche-bag. And if you’re lucky, he too will pass lifelong lung problems on to his firstborn as well. Be proud of what you’re doing. Those silly doctors don’t know what they are talking about anyways.

A fat chic (link to fatty) asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

I’ll make you a deal, fatty. If you agree not to smoke that piece of shit in front of my face or anywhere close to me, I’ll buy you a fatty-burger and fatty-fries to shove in your fatty-face. For desert, you can blow my fatty cock. How’s that sound, pumpkin?

A nun asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

No sister, I don’t mind if you smoke. After all, you are a woman of the lord and all you do is holy, no matter how much it hurts the rest of us. If it was written in your little book, then you need not consider anything else.

Just about anyone else asks, Do you mind if I smoke?

I’ll make you a deal. If you smoke that around me, you have to promise to finish it around me. And each time I smell your shitty, toxic smoke, I get to bitch slap you. You see, your punishment will come today. Mine, won’t come for many years. But you can sleep well at night knowing that you contributed to my ultimate demise.

Next time you’re on the receiving end of the world most dumbestest question, feel free to let the idiot on the other end of the conversation know exactly how stupid and inconsiderate they are. Please, help me to clean up America, one completely selfish moron at a time.

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