"Got some questions for you."

Great, I was thinking, some guy who wants to know more about skinheads wants to chat me up because he's always wanted to screw around with one. I was wrong. It was much worse. He was on some self-righteous pillar and felt like criticizing what he assumed were my belief systems. Can a guy just look for some easy head online anymore?

"Go ahead -- shoot."

I should have finished that sentence with where he could shoot me, like in my head.

"What's a Sharp?"

I explained to him that in my profile I describe myself as a S.H.A.R.P. -- an acronym for Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice -- which was created by a group of skinheads to take back the hijacked image and culture they loved from White Power and Nazi boneheads.

"Well on that show, some Sharp killed some girl. I don't believe that violence is a good thing and I don't like what you stand for, honey."

I felt my eyes start to cook. All in one statement, I was a violent piece of trash and I was called "honey" -- a word which should be reserved for my mother and 40-year-old black women who think I'm cute. Oh, did I also mention his screen handle had the word "model" in it? No? Well, this breed of faggot is the kind that I recoil from because of their extremely limited knowledge of anything that isn't directly related to them like...say...hair care products. What do I stand for? If this person only took half the time to read some of my writing or had half a brain to understand it.

"I don't believe in violence," he said to me, "Look at what happened to Matthew Sheppard! Violence only gets violence."

"So what you mean to tell me is you'd rather die than defend yourself and your beliefs?" I asked.

"No! I never said that! I would reason with people so that they understood that violence is wrong."

"You've obviously never been in a fight with anyone in your entire existence. If you were getting attacked for what or who you were, physically, you can not tell me you'd just stand there and take it."

"I think you and your skinheads or gang or whatever are stupid, violent people and get what you deserve," he said.

"I think getting your news and info in soundbites that you can digest from MTV makes you the most stupid human on the face of this earth. Try doing some research and cracking some books on youth subcultures and pull your head out of your ass before you become the professor of a class on a subject you know nothing about."

I closed the window and signed off.

This is what is wrong with America today. If it's not in tiny pill form, then it's not worth the time for us to learn about something different. If it doesn't come with pictures to punctuate the article, than we can't imagine it. If it's not like us, then it must be against us. Being the violent piece of trash that I am, I wanted nothing more than to break the limpwrist in two. I'm sure his precious "tell-all documentary" didn't tell him of the black and white S.H.A.R.P.s in Nevada who were executed because of what they stood against -- racism. Or that Sharp skins have been known to act as security for gay pride parades that he drinks himself silly at.

I lay in bed that night, trying to imagine what kind of person this was, only to fall asleep dreaming of images of pursed lips and and how much I wanted to lash out and bust them. What kind of person did he seek out for sex? Somebody antiseptic and safe with no open mouth kissing. Somebody that was a sales clerk at the Gap. Somebody who liked Mariah, Celine, or some other weak female singer. Somebody just like him. Somebody I hated.

All I wanted was a blow job. Instead, I got into chewed out by Derek Zoolander.

For the record, I don't pick fights. Not my style and probably not that smart in the bigger picture, but Christ Almighty, I think the next person who pulls that shit with me is going to get a black eye and will be whistling "We Are Family" out of his asshole. I will always remain hated and proud of it.