I've got to just write as fast as I can. Because if I stop, and start to edit, I'll lose my nerve. Because I'm about to tackle one of the most important issues today. Which tastes better - South African ass or British ass?
Don't expect coherency tonight, my loyal readers (or is it reader?). Arafat may be clinically dead, but that's not our topic tonight. If you understand what follows, it means that you too have licked ass at the New York Times of Israel.
In my former job, I spent four wonderful years kissing South African ass. It wasn't so bad. The recipient, P, would ask me if I would kiss his ass even when I wasn't working.
"Could you call in and close the site tonight? I've got to wake up early for the morning shift?"
"No problem, P," was my standard answer, even though it was the last fucking thing I wanted to do. What else could I say? My job was to kiss his ass. It was written in my contract. And I thought I did it well.
But things changed. D, who's British, was appointed king. And Prince P, who was apparently doing his own share of British ass licking, took over D's fiefdom.
So who's ass was I to lick now? Patiently I waited for an answer. But I was shocked when P told me he wanted me to lick K's ass. Now P made it perfectly clear that he was the one who decided K's ass was the one to be licked now, but we all know it was D who picked K's ass.
You see, D has a thing for women, especially the religious ones. No, I'm not saying he comes on to them or anything. He's just comfortable around them. He used to come visit S, who's religious, whenever she was working. It was a strange sight to witness - and creepy too. I didn't want to know what was going on in his head. Remember, this is a guy who supposedly has bragged about writing news stories as a child about car accidents he witnessed in front of his home.
I should have gotten a sex change, started wearing a kippah or lost this damn American accent. What was I thinking?
Shit, I'm losing steam. Got to keep it up. The runner's high is wearing off, and the fact that I have a headache from caffeine withdrawal and I recently stopped taking paxil isn't helping either.
Where was I? So D is one troubled individual. Sure, he's brilliant at what he does, but everyone who meets him can tell instantly this is a man with some serious unresolved issues. The problem is that these insecurities fuel his success, so there's no reason to change.
I'm getting off track. So they wanted me to lick K's ass. Well, I wasn't too happy about that. I at least thought that K would call me for a meeting of some kind, say the concilatory, "I know you don't want to lick my ass, but I just want to blah blah blah." But this only happened long after I was already expected to lick her ass. There was no foreplay whatsoever. What kind of man did she think I was?
No, I certainly would not lick her ass. All this ass licking made me crazy. I just couldn't take it anymore. My tongue was raw.
[K, if you're reading this, a bit of advice. There's this pair of jeans you sometimes wear, and your butt crack shows. But it's not sexy butt crack. More like overweight American plumber butt crack. So it would probably be best for everyone if you left the jeans at home.]
I tried to get P's attention. To see if licking his ass had meant anything. To my sorrow, it didn't. Please just give me a reason to stay. I licked and licked.
"I understand if you're upset, but if you want to leave, I'll understand."
No, I don't want to leave. I had been licking your ass for 4 years. And now you're telling me it was all for naught. That no matter how good I made your ass feel, there was no way I was going to move up because I should have been licking D's ass all this time?
And you don't even have the decency to tell me who was really calling the shots. Did you really expect me to believe that you were the one to pick K's ass for me? What kind of man are you? Everyone knows the ass licking hierarchy at the New York Times of Israel.
P did suggest that I speak to D about licking his ass, but there was no way I was going to get caught in this ass licking contest again. Plus, I just couldn't bring myself to lick religious ass after having secular for so many years. (I guess that means I'll vote Shinui in the next election.)
Not to mention that with P's tongue so deep in D's ass, it would be next to impossible for me to make any kind of lasting impression.
I mentioned I had gone insane, yes? Ok, so after weeks of blowing in the wind, I lost it and wrote an email to P, who was once the recipient of my tongue's magic. I quote some of the passages here:
"You have told me on more than one occassion that I'm thin-skinned. It's all relative, my friend. Not all of us operate according to Machiavelli and Sun Tzu.
"Someday this will come back to bite you in the ass - if it hasn't already. And it won't just cost you a position or lead to a rift with someone in the workplace. It will come from someone dear to you, and you won't even have a clue as to why it happened. However, you should know that your behavior has hurt the people at XXXXXXX who most respected and cared about you - as corny as that may sound."
(I could include more, but I don't want to bore you. But if I get enough requests in the comments section...)
I have no qualms about sharing part of this email here because it's quite clear that P shared this email with D. You see, D recently subjected me to some brand of journalism justice. (The details are unimportant, but in short he jeopardized my future.)
For both of them, the actions of cowards, men with no loyalty except to those who can advance their own ambitions. I should have known there are no secrets between the ass licker and the ass lickee.
So let this be a lesson to all you out there. If you lick ass, do it well, but make sure it's the right one.
