The
Asshole Bible

Ever look around and wonder if civilization is collapsing, not because of world-ending events but because someone in your office insists on microwaving leftover salmon at 11:30 in the morning?
Congratulations, you have entered the grand laboratory of assholery. The Asshole Bible is not a self-help book in the sense that it will make you a better person. It is more of a survival manual for living among people who make public life unbearable in ways that are so small, so petty, and so relentless that science ought to classify them as a new form of pollution. Studies show that decision fatigue sets in after about forty minor choices, which explains why the guy in the drive-thru ahead of you stares at the menu like it is a Rosetta Stone written in alien script.
Psychology tells us that humans act bolder when shielded by anonymity, which is why comment sections so often resemble gladiator arenas where dads in cargo shorts battle over pineapple on pizza. Even evolutionary biology plays a role, since our ancestors competed for status around the fire, and their descendants now battle for dominance in the Costco sample line.
Every chapter of this book dissects these behaviors with the precision of anthropology and the bitterness of someone who just wanted to get through the day without an existential crisis. You will meet the freeway philosopher who believes the left lane is a retirement plan, the neighbor who has declared war on peace by deploying a battalion of inflatable holiday decorations, and the parent who mistakes a sit-down restaurant for an indoor trampoline park.
Kids do not escape unscathed either, because if you have ever had your shin destroyed by a rogue scooter in a grocery aisle, you know that pint-sized offenders can weaponize innocence like a superpower.
This is not a moral lecture. It is a comedy autopsy on what happens when manners die, science shrugs, and the rest of us are left clutching our lattes in despair. Equal parts satire, social commentary, and psychological group therapy, The Asshole Bible gives you permission to laugh at humanity’s worst habits while maybe, just maybe, fixing a few of your own. Because if civilization goes down, it will not be with a bang or a whimper. It will be because someone was writing a check in the express lane in the year 2025.