Woke up in the morning to this lovely scenario. I've been full of my own bile lately and wallowing in a morass of self-doubt and mindfucks. Tuesday night I felt a strange terror come over me and I struggled to maintain a semblance of sanity throughout the evening. (It turned out that my vertigo had returned without my knowledge or approval). At 7 Wednesday morning my family informed me that we had a problem. And the greatest relief for the hypochodriac is actual pain. So to the little fuckers who did this: I hope when they catch you I get a chance to pee on your parade. God has a pretty fucked up sense of humor, but I get the joke. Thanks for the pain, boss.
1 comment:
along with the usual baseball bat on mailbox crime, we also invented a "sport" called trashbagging. the idea was to drive through the swankier parts of town during the leave raking season and dismantle their leaf bags in their yards, effectively returning the leaves to their rightful place. but this is something else... i'd start with the kids you yell "get the fuck off of my lawn" to. then expand the search to include your own family (i never trusted them and i'm sure you've kept a jaundiced eye on them too).
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