It was me! I admit it! I killed him and threw his body off the train outside Shanghai! He deserved it! Especially after that business of the Burmese idol! I'm sorry, what was the question?
Sometimes one just needs to turn a conversation surreal. For two reasons, one of them being scaring your interlocutor into either changing the subject or wilting and withering.
This comes to mind because the cigar-smoking rancid old vegetables in the back are becoming ever more reactionary, and I've heard every single one of their insane conversational themes so often that if I met them on the street I'd borrow a dog to piss on their trousers.
Yelling "shut up you syphilitic old windbags" from the front of the building doesn't work. They're old, they're prosperous, they're entitled. And they're selectively hard of hearing.
Fortunately they all cleared out after Italy won, whereupon peace returned.
I happen to know that one of them wears incontinence diapers.
I think it's because his brain leaks.
They are all late middle aged white men. I babysit senile delinquents. It keeps me young.
I get to see perfect examples of what I should never be nor emulate.
As well as dream of having a cattle prod.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
A LACK OF PROPELLANT
Rereading my old posts reminds me that I used to be immoderate. And at times over the top. I've calmed down and grown up since then. Now...
1 comment:
"if I met them on the street I'd borrow a dog to piss on their trousers."
Now THAT is a phrase for the ages.
You have far more patience for neo fascists than I do.
M
Post a Comment