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Have you ever flown first class? That shit is awesome. I just did it the other day for the first time, and I'll tell you what, I never want to go back to sitting with the peasants again.
Κείμενο Chris Nieratko

World Class Ass #4
Dir: David Luger
Rating: 6 Have you ever flown first class? That shit is awesome. I just did it the other day for the first time, and I'll tell you what, I never want to go back to sitting with the peasants again. Everything about first class is so upscale, so classy––the leather seats, the free drinks, the REAL silverware. Holding the fork in my hand, all I could think about was how many motherfuckers I could stab in the neck. There were only 10 people in first class––I considered stabbing them all and claiming first class for my own. I'd drag their bodies back into coach and invite nine of the peasants to come and join me in the good seats. All that ran through my head was, "As king of first class, I could have all the beer on earth," but then I was like, "Oh shit! I'm in first fucking class! I don't have to stab anyone––the beer is already free." If you were in my head on that trip to L.A., you'd be wearing a lampshade on your head, because I was pretending like it was New Years Eve 2000 and shit. Of course there was one asshole, real smarmy, rich prick that knew I had no right to first class, that my being upgraded was only due to someone missing their flight, and he tried to call me on it. As the stewardess asked for my coat so that she could hang it up for me (yeah, they do that kind of shit for you in first class), I got flustered. I was all, "What the fuck do you want my coat for?" I'm not used to people waiting on me. All I could think was, "This bitch wants to go through my pockets." So I start emptying my things onto my seat: batteries, comb, cigarettes, lighters, bottle of Valium, keys, free-six-inch Subway coupons, the whole kit. She's all pressuring me, like, "Sir. Your jacket." I took it off and handed it to her but forgot that my iPod was in the left pocket and the headphones were around my neck. She yanked me and I fell to the floor and this cocksucker in the pink Izod says, "Must be your first time in first class." I was like, "This motherfucker doesn't even know I'M ABOUT TO BE THE KING OF FIRST CLASS!" I thought about stabbing him right then and there, because obviously he didn't know how we do it in coach. Then I thought I should say something about how I'm not used to being waited on hand and foot because I live in the real world. Then I considered saying something like, "At least my wife doesn't dress me like a bitch," but I didn't. My mind was reeling. I had only seconds to think of some clever retort, something that proved I was not one to mess with but also showed my coach roots. So I looked him in his cold brown eyes and said, "FUCK YOU, FAGGOT." His response? Scared silence. And you know what else? They had fucking hot-fudge sundaes! It was so cool. World Sex Tour #28
Dir: Christopher Alexander
Rating: 8 I'd like to go on a world sex tour someday. I would also like to enter that hot-dog eating contest they have at Coney Island, because believe it or not, despite my amazingly trim physique, I really like processed meat. I don't like when someone I know discovers that book of vegetarian hippie propaganda called Fast Food Nation, because there's that whole week afterwards of dirty glares toward everything I try to eat, followed by: "Gross. Do you know how many people died at that factory?" Fuck you. "That's not even real chicken." You're a piece of shit that can't think for himself. "I'd never eat that shit." You ate it two weeks ago, and you'll be back eating it again when you get wasted on Friday and see a Gray's Papaya. I had this one friend who read the book and got all militant and…we're not friends anymore. I knew him since I was a kid. But I feel no hurt over our separation. The truth is, I will always choose a hamburger over a friend, and I like to think that the hamburger shares my sentiments. If not, well, I can live with that. While we're on the topic of life goals that I will never fulfill, I would like to state that I would like to rob a bank, take acid and go to the Super Bowl, and drive one of those cars––you know, the fast ones that go really, really fast. It would be good if the car had either smokescreen or oil-slick option like in Spy Hunter. I wouldn't be opposed to having both smokescreen and oil slick, but I don't want to seem selfish. Also, I'd like to catch a really big fish––a fish so big that when you pull it onto the boat your only options are to beat it senseless with a bat or shoot it with a pistol. I will opt to shoot the fish but accidentally (totally on purpose) shoot a number of holes in the boat, causing it to sink. Of course I will have a one-man lifeboat ready to make my escape. As I sail away into the sunset, smoking cigarettes and kicking ocean water like a child in an inner tube, I will laugh and laugh as my fellow fisherman call for help. Depending on the weather, I may or may not do that funny thing where you put your hand up to your ear and say, "What's that? Sorry, I can't hear you. Did you say, ‘Let you in my wife giraffe?' What? What did you say?" Because that shit is funny, right? CHRIS NIERATKO