Does Your Moral Compass Guide You?

Moral Compass

Last Saturday night, I had a group of friends over and treated them to a nice Italian meal complete with “traditional” EverClear Jello-shots to celebrate the Cardinals winning their first playoff game in 10 years and advancing to the Divisional Round of the playoffs. It was such an awesome night! The Cards were trouncing the Panthers, I was running around like a retarded monkey, girls were puking, there was some guy in the corner playing an acoustic session of air guitar, and it wasn’t even half time yet!

Somewhere after a meatball hoagie and 9 or 10 Jello-shots I was distracted from my beloved Cardinals by about the only thing on the planet that could have done the trick, a nice drunken conversation about our failing economy and how in times of economic hardship people do things they wouldn’t normally do. For example, I wouldn’t normally jerk off in a girl’s hair; but if she passes out before playing me a tune on the old rusty trombone then I can’t make any promises capiche? It doesn’t necessarily make me a bad person, but extreme times can tilt a person’s moral compass.

What is a moral compass you ask? A moral compass can most easily be described as your conscious, guiding you through the journey of life, helping you determine what is right and what is wrong. The interesting thing about this concept however, is that everyone has a different opinion as to what they consider right and wrong. For instance, I personally believe that it is wrong to steal; my moral compass guides me away from that. However, the fuckers who recently broke out the back window of my BMW and relieved me of my Breitling Watch (thank God for good insurance – what up WINgroup!), an iPod, my suitcase filled with goodies, and a Starbucks gift card had a much different opinion of right and wrong than I did. Perhaps their compass is broken, guiding them down a trail of misdeeds. Who knows, maybe they can go buy a new compass at Target after they return the $45 worth of toilet paper, strawberry scented shower gel, shampoo, Chunky soup, Imodium AD (I think I had a bad chimmy chonga), and other assorted toiletries that I was so kind to leave in my car for them. I was even gracious enough to leave the receipt for those little bastards!

I can’t even begin to tell you how violated I felt when I walked up and saw my window broken out! I can only describe it as a cross between when you have to go number 2 really bad and you arrive at the stall just in time to see some nasty ass person walking out knowing that they just destroyed the toilet and you have no choice but to go in after them; and the first, last, and only 5 minutes I have ever spent watching Bromance on Mtv. These guys have got to be kidding me! If you haven’t seen the show; I implore you, don’t. I know, we as a society, have gone to shit when a bunch of dudes huddled up, shirtless, in a Jacuzzi trying to win the friendship of some asshole who is famous because his dad won the Olympics 30 years ago is even available in HD programming. I mean come on, what happened to getting friends the old fashion way? Join a fraternity and buy them, like I did.

With that being said, those shameless future pedophiles can’t even hold a candle in terms of having a misguided moral compass, to this next subset of people, who apparently dominate the West Coast nightlife landscape. <Insert dramatic pause> WOMEN. More specifically, women who think it is ok to borrow my boxer-briefs and wear them home instead of the slutty outfit they had on the night prior, which ultimately prompted me to take them home in the first place, knowing full well that they don’t intend to return them. When did stealing men’s underwear not only become acceptable, but a common place occurrence in today’s society? This is bull shit and I am not going to stand for it any longer. Perhaps women view it as little victory, their little consolation prize for years of men harassing them, making more money for the doing the same job, and the ability to piss while standing up; but I am here to tell you the buck stops now sister. I ain’t putting up with this behavior no mo!

Look, its one thing if you would take the dirty ones I was wearing that night, but no, you go for the clean pair fresh out of the drawer. Do you have no heart? Why don’t you just take the last $1 bill I had left from the strip club where I met you while you are at it? Beyond the obvious laundry issue that this creates, I simply don’t have the want or the desire necessary to replenish my supply of $25 Calvin Kleins that I get for $10 at Ross. No girl is worth that. Yes, I know they have good prices, but the lines are too long, the whole store smells funny. Worse yet, they are usually located in bad neighborhoods, giving someone else with an off kilter moral compass the opportunity to break into my car again.