Sometimes the world is a giant sh!t storm, isn’t it? I don’t usually write about tragedies such as the Boston Marathon bombing. There are people far more eloquent in their sincerity so I usually leave it to them.
Then I saw Stephen Colbert’s opening monologue regarding the bombing and I thought that he got it exactly right. Check out his brilliance.
I lived 28 miles outside of Boston for three years. I married a man who grew up there. I have friends and a gigantic Irish and Italian family there. And let me tell you something:
Those are the toughest people I’ve ever met.
They are called Massholes by neighboring New England states for a reason. You don’t mess with a Masshole. You don’t mess with a Masshole’s friends and you damn sure don’t mess with a Masshole’s family (and given the popularity of the Catholic church and the procreative prowess of the populace there you can just assume that everyone is family.)
If you’ve ever driven the roads there and been cut off by a guy driving a pickup with a cracked windshield and rusted undercarriage, laying on his horn as he drove in a lane of his own creation after you assumed that you had the right of way simply because that’s what it told you in the driver’s booklet that you got from the registry, you have an inkling of just how tough they are.
Massholes view driving laws as mere suggestions devised for people who don’t have the balls to make their own rules. They subscribe to a Darwinian driving theory. The right of way goes to whoever has the stones to take it. That person will usually celebrate his/her victory with a festive, “Fahck you!” and a friendly one finger wave.
There is a reason that most of Hubs’s fondest memories involve stunts resulting in some kind of injury and/or fights. Maybe it’s years of chipping ice off of their cars in April, eating cream-filled, starchy foods, getting their @sses chewed for doing something they shouldn’t by the neighbor down the street who then sent them home to get their @sses kicked by their parents, getting all their molars pulled. Maybe those things gave them stones the size of glaciers. That’s just a guess. I don’t know where that toughness originates exactly. I just know that it’s there.
If you doubt me, just walk into a bar in Southie and say, “your mother’s a whore” to no one in particular. Of course you’ll want to make sure that your will is in order first.
These people take the “R”s out of words with an “R” in their spelling and randomly put those “R”s at the end of other words like “Brenda” because they can. These people are not PC. They are not careful. They are not shy with their opinions. They are fiercely loyal. They are always ready to tell you a joke or kick your @ss…depending on the situation and whether or not you are wearing a Yankees hat.
They eat broken glass and road salt for breakfast (topped with a generous helping of Marshmallow Fluff.) You don’t pick on people like that. You can’t break their spirit. The weather has been trying for generations and it can’t be done.
But then again, the type of coward who would leave explosives in an area crowded with families and children and then run to safety before the carnage was unleashed wouldn’t understand that kind of spirit. They wouldn’t understand the Masshole propensity to love and fight and endure. To run toward danger to help those in need. So on behalf of my Masshole friends and family let me just say to those bomb-dropping cowards
*My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families and my most sincere gratitude goes out to the people who ran to help.
They certainly showed their generous and brave spirits in their response to this tragedy. My thoughts are with them. And the Colbert clip was perfect.
Colbert is a genius.
Thank you. Now I don’t have to write this. I would add only one thing: The low life idiots who did this have obviously never met a Boston cop. And they better hope they never meet me.
I think those scumbags should be dropped into Dorcester. They’ll take care of it and save the tax payers a lot of money. As a matter of fact, that thought brings me a lot of satisfaction.
Loved this post; thank you. It makes me smile when all I want to do is eat mad amounts of dark chocolate caramel bar with black sea salt and try to pretend it couldn’t happen here or there or anywhere (all places which have significantly less Masshole toughness – there is much to learn from Boston). Also: that last photo there? Yeah, that’s one of the most kick-@ss photos… EVAH!
I think it’s prudent to go ahead and eat the dark chocolate caramel bar with black sea salt anyway. Just because.
The Northeast is tough–the places that terrorists have chosen to target (New York, Boston) are filled with some of the world’s toughest, most resilient people.
Thanks on the photo. Maybe I could use it as a promo shot if I ever take up roller derby;-) Ironically it’s the only decent photo I’ve ever taken of myself. I’m going to stick my middle finger in every shot
LOL! The middle finger action will definitely make family photo sessions more interesting!!
Vintage Kellie + sincere thoughts + laugh out loud humor = awesome. You’ve done the city of Boston and all of its tough as shit residents proud. This might be my favorite post among many, many favs that you’ve written.
Yeah. What Stacie Chadwick said.
Yeah. What I said to Stacie Chadwick;-)
Thanks, Stacie. Massachusetts is the toughest and quirkiest place I’ve ever lived.
I didn’t realize exactly how tough Massholes were–nor did I know they’re called Massholes–til I read this. Thank you for being so informative AND entertaining.
You’re welcome, Courtney. Much like Texans, they are tough and proud of it.