Friday, April 6, 2012

Smart Ass Bucket List

I don’t have much of a bucket list. About the only thing I’m absolutely determined to do before I die is live to celebrate my 1,700th birthday. Up until then, I’m cool with just going with the flow.

There may be things on my bucket list I don’t realize are there. There was that time about three years ago when I got kicked off of a red carpet in Hollywood. A bunch of us were there protesting Jerry Lewis receiving a humanitarian award at the Oscars so we crashed one of the Oscar parties. I was sitting outside chanting when a security guard said to me, “Sir, you’ll have to leave the red carpet!” Somehow I felt an unexpected great swell of pride when he told me that, as if by getting kicked off of a red carpet in Hollywood I’d accomplished a life’s goal.

My fuck it list is much longer than my bucket list. These are the things I hope I never have to spend another second doing, like shopping for insurance. Everyone has a fuck it list. To determine what’s on yours, try this little exercise. Imagine you’re on your deathbed, reflecting back on your life and saying to yourself “Dammit, I wish I’d spent more time (fill in the blank)!” I know I’ll never say to myself “Dammit, I wish I’d spent more time shopping for insurance!”

But there are some things I’d really like to do sometime in the next few centuries. I’d really like to start a big ass pie fight. But it can’t be orchestrated. It has to be one of those naturally-occurring events, like on the Three Stooges, where there’s a stuffy party with a ratio of 10 pies for every guest. It could be a combination presidential debate/bake sale. I’ll be proud to fling the first pie.

I’d also love to get White House press credentials and attend a presidential press conference. Because before I ask my question, I want to hear myself say, “Mr. President, I’m from the Washington Bureau of Smart Ass Cripple.” I don’t even care what question I ask. I just want to hear myself say that. It has a certain smart ass ring to it.

But most of all, I really really really would love to be knighted by the queen of England, just because I want everyone to have to call me Sir Smart Ass Cripple. I was worried that in order to be considered worthy of knighthood, I’d have to live up to some impossibly high standard. But I was gratified to learn that Rudy Giuliani has been knighted. So how high could the standards be? And you don’t even have to be British to be knighted, though if you’re not British you’re not allowed to call yourself Sir. But screw that. Once I'm knighted, I’ll call myself Sir whenever I damn well please! What are they going to do about it, arrest me and haul me up to The Hague? And after I’m knighted, just to be a smart ass, I’ll get sex change surgery. Then I’ll be the first to have been both a Sir and a Dame

What a fine and glorious day at Buckingham Palace. Her Majesty knights me, then I start a pie fight. It’ll be the most satisfying day of my life. My bucket list fulfilled.


  1. Great. Great. Great. Working on my fuck it list now. Much better than a bucket list.

  2. 'Young man, you act as though the Sword of Damocles was hanging over your head."
    Moe: "Lady, you must be psychic."

  3. I never saw a comment space where you could say fuck and not have it deleted by the comment police. It's cool! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! ...etc...

  4. Hi Smart Ass Cripple. I often go by One-leg Liz, myself, and the pub I'd like to open will be called The Shameless Cripple, though I'm also toying with that as the name of an internatonal corporation bent on world domination.

    Just found your blog. Cool! Have a smartass day!

  5. I don't like it when I get called "Sir" because it's usually followed by a request to put my pants back on.