Fuck me? Fuck you.
Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
No, no, no, no, no.
Fuck the panhandlers grubbing for money,
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!
...getting one of those operations
that elongate your penis.
Fuck the Chelsea Boys
with their waxed chests and pumped-up biceps,
going down on each other in my parks and on my piers,
jiggling 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 speakee English.
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach.
Mobster thugs sitting in cafes, 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 Hasidim
strolling up and down 47 th Street
in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff,
selling South African apartheid diamonds.
Come on. Your wife deserves this.
Fuck the Wall Street brokers.
Self-styled masters of the universe.
Michael Douglas-Gordon Gekko wannabe motherfuckers
figuring out new ways to rob hardworking 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.
Worldcom.
Fuck the Puerto Ricans.
Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls.
Worst fucking parade in the city.
And don't even get me started on the Dominicans,
'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Who's this fuckin' guy?! Get the fuck outta here!
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."
Fuckin' crack your fuckin' head open!
Bensonhurst! Bensonhurst!
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves
and their $50 Balducci artichoke.
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 wan't to play defense,
they take five steps on every layup to the hoop,
and then they want to turn around
and blame everything on the white man.
Slavery ended 137 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.
Fuck Osama bin Laden, Al Qaeda,
and backward-ass cave-dwelling
fundamentalist assholeseverywhere.
On the names of innocent thousands murdered,
I pray you spend the restof eternity with your 72 whores
roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell.
You towel-headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Polish ass.
Fuck Jacob Elinsky.
Whining malcontent.
Fuck Gregory,my best friend,
judging me while he stares at my ex girlfriend's ass.
Fuck Eve.
I gave her my trust, and she stabbed me in the back.
Sold me up for a piece of ass. Fucking bitch !!
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it,
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. END!