On Wisdom



A badass individual acknowledges that no one, including oneself (as Badass as one might be), has the capacity to know everything. And because of this, the Badass is on a constant mission to gain knowledge, and by any means necessary.

There once was a wise, silly old Badass with a bushy-ass mustache, and under the pen name Mark Twain was believed to have said,

“It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

In other words, don’t speak of what you don’t know.

Ain’t that some truth to keep you and I out of trouble?

Damn straight.

But the true Badass wouldn’t stop there. The Badass would investigate and research the topic so that if the conversation was ever revisited, the Badass would have something worthwhile to add. (And a Badass is always worthwhile.)

The above quote attributed to Twain, for instance, has been known to have been coined not only by Twain, but Abraham Lincoln, the Bible, and various others. The Badass would not post or share that shit until further investigating just to be sure Mr. Clemens, a.k.a. Mr. Twain, did in fact give this wise-ass piece of advice (so as not to misquote or mislead some motherfuckers). This golden rule would apply to Badass journalists, writers, teachers, and friends as well: Don’t speak of what you don’t know; if you don’t know, find out.

Which leads us to another Badass. Enter the Badass Quote Investigator, Garson O’Toole from Yale and shit.

“Just why is Garson O’Toole deemed a Badass?” you ask.

As made evident by his website, this bastard is unstoppable when it comes to researching the source of quotes. And more importantly, he doesn’t just keep the information for himself and laugh at the blatant stupidity of the rest of our sorry asses–he shares that shit with the world. That’s right–makin’ the world a better, more informed place and shit–one curiosity at a time.

That, Commander, is Badass defined.

He shared that the quote can most likely be attributed to Maurice Switzer, in her book “Mrs. Goose, Her Book” published in 1907 and with slightly different wording (though the same meaning):

“It is better to remain silent at the risk of being thought a fool, than to talk and remove all doubt of it.”

Read that shit.

That quote is one for every Badass to hold dear and as doctrine. That quote, with it’s source found, is one that a Badass can share with confidence.

Badass bottom line:

The Badass won’t speak of what they don’t know; if they don’t know, they’ll find out.

On Financial Freedom (and Obtaining a GFY Fund)


Self-reliant Badass Tortoise

A respectable Badass of the highest order owes no one, unless, of course, said Badass acknowledges, takes responsibility for, and willingly agrees to said debt.

A true Badass also acknowledges nothing is owed to a Badass individual. Like one of those Agassiz’s desert tortoises–self-reliant little Badass bastards, they are.

. . . . .

Though we aren’t taught this shit in school (due to the main priority being training us to be good little consumers as we are barraged with ads and such), a trade secret in life is this: every Badass invests in a GFY Fund.

Don’t know what that is, Boss? Let me explain.

Imagine for a second that money (or lack there of) is no issue in your life. Bills are paid, car loan is non-existent, credit card is current, retirement fund is growing, and your ass is planning your next vacation to some dreamy, exotic destination. Can you feel that wonderful, comforting, magical shit? Shine sweet freedom, says that smooth Badass, Michael McDonald. And so soon will you, Sensei. Just wait.

In this scenario, you might love your job and not desire to lose it, but if the company decides to do a mass layoff with your successful ass included in the goodbye-bunch, it won’t kill you. You won’t panic. Your panties will not be in a twist. You won’t gingerly walk in to your office each day, heart pumping a million miles per second, fearing they will “let you go”. Hells to the no. You’ve got skills and you’ve got back-up.

But let’s face it–for most of us, this shit is not the case.

It’s a fuckin’ dream land, a fantasy,” you say.

Hang in there with me for a second, Captain.

Admit it: some shit we buy purely to be noticed, to look tough, to be accepted–often stemming from being barraged by ads telling us “how we should be” during our vulnerable childhood years (lying bastards!). And what does that make us do? It forces us to be slaves to the economy.

It feels good after a tough week working under a narcissistic asshole to go out drinking and shopping at the weekend (in order to “reward ourselves”). But then, as is secretly and carefully designed, we must begrudgingly return on Monday to the asshole employer, endure abuses, then keep our mouths shut so we can keep our jobs to keep paying for the shit we buy to “reward ourselves” for dealing with the bullshit.

I call this the Bullshit Cycle.

“Just how does one Badass avoid the Bullshit Cycle?” you ask.

I can’t wait to tell you, Sport.

What your ass needs is to invest in a GFY Fund. (When teaching this shit to the kids–as you should–feel free to call it a Freedom Fund instead.) A Go-Fuck-Yourself Fund is money set aside in an account that enables you to say “Go Fuck Yourself” (in words, in actions, and/or in attitude) to assholes and others you no longer choose to align your Badass self with: whether they be bosses, significant others, roommates, parents, or the like.

Roommate’s cat pissed in your shoes again? Don’t get mad. It’s OK. You can move the fuck out. Why? You have a GFY Fund.

Live-in boyfriend is starting to question your every wherabouts more and more, showing up unannounced at after-work gatherings with friends, and you’re sick of finding his sticky piss all around the toilet seat and floor (because, why the fuck don’t all men sit on the toilet when they piss at home? This ain’t no goddamned urinal!)? No worries. It’s OK. You can smile and move the fuck out. Why? Because your smart little ass has a GFY Fund.

Employer is on your ass 24/7, manipulating you into working inhumane hours (and not paying you for that shit) all the while heaping non-deserved insults at your sorry ass on the daily? You can give a powerful “no” to that shit. You can ask for more money, set hours, and respect. Or, you can pack up your sweet valuables, Jedi, then moonwalk the fuck out of that toxic environment so your asshole employer can see your grinning face as you gracefully depart. Why? Because your well-prepared ass has a muthafuckin’ GFY Fund, baby.

“How does one obtain one of these GFY Funds?” you ask.

Good question, Sparky.

Let me first ask you this: What are you willing to temporarily sacrifice in order to build yourself a GFY Fund cushion, and therefore a more fulfilled life?

Do you buy coffee every morning? That’s about $2,200 a year, Player. What if you made that shit at home for a few years in order to build your GFY Fund?

Netflix, Amazon, Hulu–how much are you paying for that shit every month when you can get your entertainment (DVDs, CDs, books, etc.) from the local library (or by walking your lazy ass out in nature)? Your hermit ass might even meet someone there. Think about that potent shit for a moment.

Is that expensive car lease giving you true happiness or committing you to more days working for that heartless, mean-ass bastard? Think about this shit: a Mercedes will get you to work; a Honda will get a much deserved vacation, Rockstar. And better yet, a more fulfilled life.

How much do you make per hour? Let’s say, for example, that amount is $20/hour. Every $20 you DON’T spend on unnecessary shit (a sweater to wear as your slave uniform at that terrible job you have, for instance), is one hour you don’t need to work for the heartless, mean-ass tyrant of an employer.

Get it?

So the how is this: every dime you spend, you must ask yourself, “Is this item worth my putting up with ___ many hours of the Bullshit Cycle? Or can I invest this amount in my GFY Fund? Then, BOOM. Your GFY Fund either grows or stays as is. Your choice, Partner.

You can only grow your GFY Fund by putting your own health, happiness, and well-being first.

Yippee ki-yay, you little Badass, you.

On Clear and Honest Communication


A Badass individual understands communication is not limited to the verbal form, but is more honestly found in the actions of one’s self and of others. Like some Badass wild animals, and shit.

. . . . .

“Always listen to your teacher and do what he says.”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Pay attention to what I’m saying.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“You had better listen to your Nana.”

Did you ever get sick of that “listen” bullshit when you were a kid? You bet your sweet ass you did, Scout. Because when we were children, we were still in tune to all types of natural communication that occurs in humans and animals alike so we often knew straight away when someone was full of shit and should be avoided, ignored, or escaped from entirely.

“But I don’t like him mommy! He’s a scary man!”

“Get your ass over there and say hi to Mr. Rupert, this instant!”

“But, but, but . . . “

Then, over time, our innocent little asses were domesticated. We were broken like wild horses until we could no longer trust our own instincts but instead were trained to place importance on the words of others, like good little submissive puppets should. (And every Badass knows good little puppets shut up, work really hard, and go into debt by buying lots of shit to make the sting of shutting up feel better all the while making a very few people very, very rich.)

“I’m so sorry. I’ll never hurt you again,” said for the fifth time.

“No one will ever love you like I do,” said following a terrible insult.

“You’ll never get anywhere in this world. You’re a loser.” said by a Class A dumb ass.

In our domesticated state of mind we often choose to trust words and ignore actions. Again and again we return to the unnatural, the unsafe, the unhealthy—like a fly returns to a hot, steaming pile of caca. Some asshole insults you again and again, and yet their apology, to your washed brain, represents hope that said asshole will change. Well, how about we call bullshit on that theory right now? Because that’s exactly what it is: Bullshit.

Someone who loves you will naturally make mistakes (accidentally forgets a birthday, shows up 10 minutes late to a lunch, spills tea on your favorite rug, steps in dog shit and enters your vehicle) and of course you forgive them. But another asshole discourages every great idea you have, makes you feel bad about yourself, and plays manipulative games of praise and punishment. Guess what? That stupid ass is giving you the greatest gift one can give—honesty. This bastard is showing you his or her true colors and now it is up to you to take that gift of honesty and make a choice—address the actions and give a chance or walk the fuck away, with your dignity intact. That’s power back in your hands, Superstar. That’s badass.


Some people are supportive, loving, loyal, and make great friends. These folks, Player, are worthy of being your tribe.

Others charm their way into your life and make you feel like a juicy ass turd. Like a sneaky snake ate your sorry ass up and shat you right back out.

The Badass knows the difference.

We humans think we’re so very clever. And yet the Badass animals of the Serengeti, or even the ones howling and yapping just beyond our own back yards know that we are a stupid-ass species as we ignore the gift we’ve been freely given at birth—the ability to quickly determine friend or foe through our own observations and intuition. A Badass individual is honest by being authentic with oneself and with others. A Badass communicates with actions.

“How does that shit look?” you ask.

  • I respect you as a person, so I show up on time.
  • I respect me as a person so I don’t hang around and support the actions of ignorant, hateful people.
  • I respect the planet so I don’t waste shit.
  • I’m a kind motherfucker so I don’t linger in the passing lane on the highway when I’m not planning on passing your slow ass.

If we’d just shut our pie holes for a moment and look up from our technological brain suck devices, we could observe and trust our observations to keep us safe and protect us from liars, narcissists, emotional manipulators, and worse—bonafide assholes. We could take a step out of our desperate dream land and not only regain the ability to use our own Badass intuition to keep us away from the riff-raff, but also to guide us toward the good, the loving, the kind ass bitches (who are everywhere, by the way—just look up) who rather than discourage us from reaching our full potential, are running right along side us in that marathon of sweet dreams, Tiger, with a wink and a high five.

On Filtering Bullshit


A Badass individual, through trial, error, and life experience, has mastered one of nature’s most pertinent arts—when and when not to give a shit.

Hence, the Badass Bullshit Filter.

As insecure children, we feared others—their glaring stares, their blatant lies, their stinging gossip, their mean-spirited manipulations. No one liked being called “Smelly Kelly” or “Stupid Stan”. So our voices shrunk, we ceased owning our own space on the planet, and we became smaller than small. We lusted for invisibility cloaks. As we grew older, we hid behind dramatic bangs. We quietly and submissively gave value to everyone’s thoughts and opinions about us, whether true to us or not—teachers, students, siblings, grocery store clerks, the ice cream man, and the like. Why? We were ignorant to and had not yet begun to develop our own custom Badass Bullshit Filter.

Now, if Kelly had a genuine problem with properly washing her own funky ass, and Stan was too goddamned lazy to learn some shit, that is clearly something Kelly or Stan needed to take responsibility for and fix (and not for anyone but themselves in regard to their own health, hygiene, and success, of course).

Every Badass knows taking responsibility for oneself is the number one rule for becoming a true Badass (which would put Kelly and Stan in the lead, if this was, indeed, their chosen course of action).

Steps to building your very own Badass Bullshit Filter:

1. Recognize what you value in life and in others.

If you prefer kind-hearted people over mean sons o’ bitches, then only place value on and consider the thoughts and opinions of the kind-hearted.

2. Filter out the rest (which is all bullshit, Chief).

Disregard, discard, and disown anything that comes from a mean son of a bitch. Why?

Anything and everything that comes out of an asshole is shit.


You’re welcome.


On Knowing One’s People


A badass individual elects and appoints a worthy assembly as one’s badass company, choosing to congregate with those who share a similar high level of integrity, and excluding or expelling any and all individuals exhibiting disorderly, disrespectful, destructive and/or self-destructive behavior. Like a Badass motherfuckin’ tree. Or a healthy garden plant, perhaps.

. . . . .

Trees are Badasses

“A tree? A plant? WTF?” you ask.

That’s right. Nature’s trees are our steadfast teachers. Good thing for us, whether we reside in the city or countryside, they’re all around us. Why? Because nature itself is a true Badass that cannot be stopped. Wise up and observe, princess. Trees will push up through some thick ass concrete, grow through a chainlink fence, and “play dead” over a snowy winter only to yield delicious fruit for your hungry ass in the warmer months.

Those sweet-assed bastards.

Scarred, but showing no fear. Cast out and abandoned, but never hesitating to get its needs met by any means necessary. Chopped the fuck up, but never holding back from giving homes, shade, oxygen, and nourishment to those in need. Trees are no sheltered, selfish bastards. Hell, no. Trees are Badasses in the truest sense of the word.

These mighty warriors see that life’s elements and environments can be harsh, yet life’s outcome is always what you make of that shit. A tree needs sunshine to thrive, so that motherfucker will grow its way around any obstacle to get itself some sunshine. He doesn’t stay stuck in a situation that isn’t good for him simply because it’s comfortable and he’s used to it. A tree knows that if she’s not growing, she’s dying, so rather than wait for some asshole to *finally* adore her, she looks out for her own ass, getting what she needs before she can give, as should we.

A Badass is kind to one’s self, not afraid to out-grow and leave behind any environment that is not nourishing to one’s growth and well-being. Or else one is a stupid-ass.



We, the Badasses of the world, in Order to form a more Badass state of Being, assume personal Integrity, promote inner Tranquility, avoid unnecessary drama, think Logically, laugh heartily, and share the Blessings of badass Freedom with ourselves and with all future generations, do ordain and establish this Badass Constitution.

. . . . .

Preamble for the Badass Constitution