Boy, what is up with me? I strut around like I'm God's gift to the world or something. I think I'm so fascinating, I'm convinced everybody's just dying to listen to me ramble on about myself for hours on end. It's getting more obvious to me every day: I think I'm such hot shit!

When I look back on my life so far, I realize I've never accomplished anything terribly meaningful. I'm okay-looking but not stunning, I earn a modest living, and I certainly don't expect anyone to remember me 20 years after I die. But you wouldn't know that from the way I tell it! Yup, I pretty much think the sun shines out of my asshole.

A few months ago, I bought a new car, a bright-red 2000 Pontiac Firebird. And, of course, for weeks after I got it, I made a big, fat, hairy deal about it at work, making sure everybody saw me in it when I arrived each morning. "Ooh, look at me in my new car! Aren't I cool?" I would practically scream as I fought to get the most visible parking space in the company lot. Sure, a Firebird is a decent sportscar. But it's not like it's a Ferrari or anything. What an annoying showoff I am. And without all that much to show off about.

Oh, and I'm always cracking jokes, too. I think I'm so fucking funny. I think I'm a regular Jerry Friggin' Seinfeld. It doesn't matter who's talking or what the context is, I'll always butt in with one of my lame quips. Or, if you try to tell a funny story, I'll get jealous and chime in with some stupid pun, just to draw the attention back to me. Because I always need to be the star. What a big baby.

I've come up with a few theories as to why all of this is. One is that I'm an only child, and my parents spoiled me and cooed over every stupid thing I did no matter how dumb it was, so I grew up thinking the whole world would coo over me, too. Another is that I'm insecure about my many sexual inadequacies, so I try to compensate for them by being as socially dominant and overbearing as possible.

Whatever the reason, one thing's painfully clear: I need to be put in my place. Wouldn't it be fantastic if some fed-up co-worker of mine took me aside and informed me that everyone around the office is sick and tired of me and would love it if I stopped being such a self-centered, loud-mouth, know-it-all prick?

On the other hand, you can't just tell a stuck-in-his-ways 31-year-old, "Please promptly rewire your entire personality so that you're no longer an incredible asshole." No, telling me off wouldn't work. And firing me under a phony pretense wouldn't either. Knowing me, it'd just lead me to file some sort of formal grievance against the company or, better yet, some bullshit discrimination lawsuit.

So I guess I don't know what to suggest for a solution. It's looking like I'll die thinking I'm hot shit, not having the slightest clue what a cocksucker I am. I tell you, people like me never learn.