First identify the target within: that bit of foreign matter infiltrating your phlegm.
Gather yourself. Hate is hard work.
Remember: the conscious control of bodily discharges is the essence of civilization.
If there’s a wind, make sure it’s at your back.
If there’s a sun, make sure it isn’t watching.
Wait until it’s 40 below zero—the temperature at which Centigrade and Fahrenheit coincide and spit turns into a slow bullet of ice in mid-air.
Take three steps forward like a bowler.
Lose your dignity—it can grow back.
Let fly.
