Yeah, fuck you, too. Fuck
*me*? Fuck *you*, Fuck you and this whole
city and everyone in it. Fuck the
panhandlers, grubbing for money, and
smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the
squeegee men dirtying up the clean
windshield of my car - get a fucking job!
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing
down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry
steaming out their pores stinking up my
day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW
THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys
with their waxed chests and pumped-up
biceps. Going down on each other in my
parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks
on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers
with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and
their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic.
Ten years in the country, still no speaky
English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton
Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés,
sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes
between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin'
and schemin'. Go back where you fucking
came from! Fuck the black-hatted
Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th
street in their dirty gabardine with their
dandruff. Selling South African apartheid
diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers.
Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael
Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe mother
fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard
working people blind. Send those Enron
assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think
Bush and Cheney didn't know about that
shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco!
Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. Twenty
to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst
fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even
get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, 'cause
they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their
pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits,
their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their
Jason Giambi Louisville Slugger baseball
bats, trying to audition for "The Sopranos."
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their
Hermès scarves and their fifty-dollar
Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting
pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and
shiny. You're not fooling anybody,
sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They
never pass the ball, they don't want to play
defense, they take five steps on every lay-
up to the hoop. And then they want to turn
around and blame everything on the white
man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty
seven years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck
the corrupt cops with their anus-violating
plungers and their 41 shots, standing
behind a blue wall of silence. You betray
our trust! Fuck the priests who put their
hands down some innocent child's pants.
Fuck the church that protects them,
delivering us into evil. And while you're at it,
fuck J.C.! He got off easy! A day on the
cross, a weekend in hell, and all the
hallelujahs of the legioned angels for
eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville,
J.! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, al-Qaeda, and
backward-ass cave-dwelling fundamentalist
assholes everywhere. On the names of
innocent thousands murdered, I pray you
spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-
two whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell.
You towel-headed camel jockeys can kiss
my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky.
Whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier
Slaughtery my best friend, judging me while
he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck
Naturelle Riviera, I gave her my trust and
she stabbed me in the back, sold me up the
river, fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his
endless grief, standing behind that bar
sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to
firemen, and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it.
From the row-houses of Astoria to the
penthouses on Park Avenue, from the
projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho.
From the tenements in Alphabet City to the
brownstones in Park Slope to the split-
levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake
crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to
fucking ash and then let the waters rise and
submerge this whole rat-infested place.
Monty Brogan : No. No, fuck you,
Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and
you threw it away, you *dumb* *fuck*!