babble
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Idle hands are the devil's playground:
Right now, my next-door neighbor is either doing some serious home improvement, mass-murdering a large number of people and then grinding their bodies down to make an apocalyptic quantity of soylent green, or engaging in some strange ritual involving heavy machinery that is only understood by lesbians and the French. I'm not sure which of those options I'm comfortable with. In any case, it's very noisy.
I have a number of things on my to-do list today, not the least of which is stocking up on food items due to the fact that my favorite grocery store will probably be closed tomorrow. I do not want to be relegated to futile attempts to find anything remotely edible at the 7-11 while the well-meaning but somewhat ignorant people in the surrounding neighborhood shoot guns into the air to celebrate old white people escaping the tyranny of other old white people. I may be an increasingly old white person, but I do not wish to memorialize that fact with a bullet descending upon my head from a few hundred feet in the air. I prefer to get shot by people who know me well enough to want me dead.
babbled by Kat @ 2:02:00 PM |
|
