Frank Something (I forget)

  • We had known for years that Frank was an a**hole. We didn’t say anything at first, except to each other when he wasn’t there. And then when he was there. And eventually right to his face. He forced us to. Up until then we’d always given Frank the benefit of the doubt. Like maybe it was an accident when he backed into your brand new car or that he misunderstood the ramifications when he reported you to the income tax people or that he meant well when he said things like ‘Man, your wife has really packed on the beef.’ I remember the day I told Frank he was an a**hole. He laughed. He was oblivious, which is the key to being an a**hole. A**holes don’t notice feedback. They have no antennae. They will just all of a sudden blurt out how much they enjoy picking their nose or will take off their pants at a funeral. They’re completely unaware of any negative reaction from others but are focused instead on their own point of view. They find themselves witty and charming. They’ll often burst into gales of laughter after passing wind in court. In ancient times a**holes were shunned or executed. Unless they were king. That was rough on everybody. The people of Rome would whisper ‘Rexis supra anus’ which meant ‘The King is an a**hole.’ Today people just identify a**holes at work or in the family or on television, and avoid them at all costs. But that’s all about to change thanks to a recent medical breakthrough. Researchers have discovered that being an a**hole is not a conscious choice but in fact a behavioural anomaly. These people have a genetic mutation that prevents them from having acceptable social interaction with other human beings or animals or plants or any physical object. The condition has now been identified as a disease called AH (asocial hallucination) and is being lauded by a**holes all over the world. Spokesman and lead researcher Dr. Byron Wheelding, former a**hole and current AH sufferer, points out the difference between being an a**hole and having AH. ‘An a**hole ignores the rules of proper social conduct while an AH patient is unaware of those rules and genetically incapable of learning them.’ This has been a game changer. People all over the world are now hanging their heads in shame saying ‘We didn’t realize he had AH. We just thought he was an a**hole.’ It was Frank who brought all of this to our attention and some guys felt they needed to apologize to him. They regretted having called him an a**hole all these years when, in fact, he was a victim of AH. He invited us all to kiss his a** which apparently is another medical condition. Frank’s actual words were ‘Hey guys, I’m not an a**hole. My doctor diagnosed me with AH.’ I said ‘Great. Come back when you’re cured.’ So apparently it’s contagious.

Author: Yet Another Steve Smith

Yet another Steve Smith was conceived in the Spring of 1945 in what his father has described as ‘one of the most regrettable three minutes of my life’. On Christmas Eve of that year, while Santa was coming down the chimney, Steve was coming down the chute. He grew up, or least got taller, in Toronto Ontario Canada, followed by family moves to Brantford, Streetsville and Mississauga in futile attempts by his Dad to avoid litigation and seek employment. Enjoying the benefits of being an ugly guy in a small town, Steve married his high school sweetheart in 1966. He had several jobs while dabbling in the entertainment industry, eventually becoming a full-time dabbler working as a writer/performer in television until 2006. During that time he created a character who became very popular with people who like that kind of thing. Steve has done several North American one man shows in that character over the last few years. He has two sons and four grandchildren and tries not to say everything he thinks of. This blog may make that impossible.

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