I’m certain I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know when I say that the world is full of faggots. Be they wimps, pussies, or dorks, there are myriad faggots among us, though it may not be immediately obvious who they are and, in many cases, the faggots themselves—with their stupid hair and scrawny frames—may not even realize that they are such.
This is why I propose a two-tiered approach to this dilemma: first, let us clearly identify who the faggots are, and second, inform said faggots of their faggot status.
As to the initial step, it is a relatively straightforward one, as there are a number of telltale signs to distinguish the faggot from the non-faggot, i.e., you, me, your bros, etc. For instance: if he is wearing sports paraphernalia from a team other than the team we favor; if he is wearing clothes that are not sports-related at all; if he is holding a book or, worse yet, reading it. We must be mindful of whether he has faggoty hair or clothes or appears to be in the presence of faggots exhibiting these traits.
Perhaps the most crucial faggot determinant is whether the person in question is clearly not a member of our group or party and we do not recognize him. This rule is applicable in almost every situation, from a sporting event, to a crowded bar, to a McDonald’s parking lot, to a moment in which we are feeling not entirely secure in our masculinity. It is a good rule, and may be applied liberally.
Faggots are known for getting their asses kicked. Should you suspect that someone you encounter is a faggot, the best strategy is to push him in the chest and ask, at a high volume, the following question: “What are you, some kind of faggot?” This will immediately alert the non-faggots around you that there may be a faggot in the area. If the would-be faggot responds to the challenge with anything other than a counter-shove accompanied by yelling, then you know that you have positively identified an authentic and verifiable faggot.
To be clear, I am not referring to male homosexuals—although they certainly count as faggots and are probably among the most faggoty of all the faggot categories. I am speaking of that most nefarious breed of know-it-all mama’s boys who think they’re better than you and threaten to destroy the comforting self-image you’ve spent your whole life constructing to conceal your deepest fears and vulnerabilities.
Those faggots.
Once the faggot’s status has been confirmed, the next step is to inform the faggot—and anyone else in the vicinity—that we have a faggot on our hands. This is most often accomplished by yelling “Hey, faggot!” “Hey, you stupid faggot!” or even the simple, elegant “Faggot!” Brevity is best when you have mere moments to convey the information—for example, when screaming it from a moving car to some faggot on the sidewalk.
After making it known to the faggot that he is a faggot, our task is essentially done. He will likely retreat homeward, in tears, made newly aware of what a faggot he actually is, and that he should, unless he’s a total faggot, stop being such a faggot immediately.
Then we may rest knowing that we have successfully identified a faggot (or, as the word is sometimes abbreviated, “fag”) and informed him that he is one. But we cannot rest long. In fact, we must always be alert and on the lookout for faggots wherever they may be. For the world around us is indeed filled with a great many faggots, each of whom must be singled out and made aware of this fact.
Yet there remain a few among us who are unwilling to take up this task. Are you among them? Are you not brave enough to embrace the two-tiered system? If so, you must face a bitter reality: you, yourself, could be a faggot and not have known until right now. If this be so, we cannot help you. If you are a faggot, you should shut your fucking mouth and stay out of the way of non-faggots such as myself.
Because we don’t have the time or the inclination to deal with your shit, you stupid fucking weak-ass fag. So fuck off, faggot, and go back to faggot-land where you belong.
