Self Love: Is There Any Other Kind?

Saw a bumper sticker today that actually made my angry little heart go all pitty pat. It was simple, straightforward and completely out there. It said: I HEART ME (replace the word heart with the actual little red heart shape and you get the real picture). I HEART ME, all CAPS which as we on the 'net know means that YOU'RE SCREAMING.

For a moment I was stopped in my tracks, so amazed was I at the sheer audacity of such a brazen statement. But slowly as I regained my composure, it began to dawn on me: "yes, how perfect, how diabolically, selfishly perfect, and so simple, so pure, so...right, somehow". I HEART ME, motherfuckers! ME, not your smarmy, earnest little Greek chorus of tragedy that goes sailing by me on the beltway and on side streets and in parking lots. Pity the poor Chesapeake Bay (SAVE the Bay!), shout outs to every breed of animal imaginable and some we'd rather not (I Heart My Ferret), and the ribbons, Christ gag me with every conceivable "cause" from "Autism Awareness" to the purple and black"Ravin' Maniacs" football fools, to the ubiquitous yellow "Support Our Troops" ribbons. Ack.

Oh, no, this brilliant soul cut straight through all that do-gooder crap and called a spade a spade, goddammit. I HEART ME, motherfuckers! All the rest of you whiny-ass wimps can eat my dust, I be all about lovin' number ONE! Brought a tear to my eye, it did and as I stared at that little gem for a few moments in the Giant supermarket parking lot I committed to this blog post as a kind of homage, a commemoration, if you will, of someone who clearly knows that when all is said and done, the autistics and the troops and the fucking Chesapeake Bay ain't there to tuck you in at night so you might as well show the love where it's most appreciated: to your own bad self.

The ABIB stands in awe of such evil brilliance.