Jan. 6th, 2005
Crossposted:
note_to_asshat here
Hey, you.
Yeah you, the young (16-22) Hispanic or Oriental male with flashy watch and definitely left ear pierced, in the silvery grey Honda Accord LX, license plate ###XXX, emissions tags expiring March '05, "X racing" logo on the back, tailpipe modified to be bigger (and louder, so probably some muffler work), who was pulling out of the apartment complexes on 19th, the ones that are just southwest of 19th Ave and Butler, sometime around 12:30 very early this morning.
What the FUCK do you think you were doing, pulling out like that? You pulled out, obviously without looking, swerving through the turning lane, through the lane you were supposed the fuck to go into, and into the middle northbound lane -- WHERE THERE WAS A VERY NOTICABLE CAR DRIVING, YOU NITWIT! Of course I fucking honked my fucking horn at you, you incompetent fuck! I had to dive into the other lane to avoid you colliding with me. So you drove off in a fucking hurry to get to some place you urgently needed to be ...
... which was JACK-IN-THE-BOX.
Oh, yeah.
Feel the love.
Feel the all-encompassing, lovey-lovey hearts-and-flowers-and-kitten-kisses luuuuurve coming at you from me, you bastard who shames the name of your mother and father, the sort of passion that inspires me to complain to the police department about your punk-hatted ass.
I hope when you're loving your car carnally up the exhaust pipe (even though it's clearly far too big to accomodate you with any degree of satisfaction, and would have been too big even before it was modded) that you haven't waited for it to cool down first.
Hugs and kisses (to be delivered to you by that guy who sits on the corner, the grungy one with the beard),
the bitch who honked at you and then took down your license plate and other information while sitting behind you in the drive-through
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Hey, you.
Yeah you, the young (16-22) Hispanic or Oriental male with flashy watch and definitely left ear pierced, in the silvery grey Honda Accord LX, license plate ###XXX, emissions tags expiring March '05, "X racing" logo on the back, tailpipe modified to be bigger (and louder, so probably some muffler work), who was pulling out of the apartment complexes on 19th, the ones that are just southwest of 19th Ave and Butler, sometime around 12:30 very early this morning.
What the FUCK do you think you were doing, pulling out like that? You pulled out, obviously without looking, swerving through the turning lane, through the lane you were supposed the fuck to go into, and into the middle northbound lane -- WHERE THERE WAS A VERY NOTICABLE CAR DRIVING, YOU NITWIT! Of course I fucking honked my fucking horn at you, you incompetent fuck! I had to dive into the other lane to avoid you colliding with me. So you drove off in a fucking hurry to get to some place you urgently needed to be ...
... which was JACK-IN-THE-BOX.
Oh, yeah.
Feel the love.
Feel the all-encompassing, lovey-lovey hearts-and-flowers-and-kitten-kisses luuuuurve coming at you from me, you bastard who shames the name of your mother and father, the sort of passion that inspires me to complain to the police department about your punk-hatted ass.
I hope when you're loving your car carnally up the exhaust pipe (even though it's clearly far too big to accomodate you with any degree of satisfaction, and would have been too big even before it was modded) that you haven't waited for it to cool down first.
Hugs and kisses (to be delivered to you by that guy who sits on the corner, the grungy one with the beard),
the bitch who honked at you and then took down your license plate and other information while sitting behind you in the drive-through
Obligatory Random Funny: Ikea: The Drinking Game
Writers' group has switched from Thursday to Wednesday, so people looking for me Wednesday shan't find me at home in the evenings. I shall, however, likely be at home Thursday evenings.
V was back. She and I need to get together about Gemini again. I now have
easalle's book from last year to go through, and I'm anticipating it with much glee. She's got The Necromancer's Prayer to shred, and I'm sure it's got plot holes from A to Z. I really need to go back and do things to
ectogenesis now.
Wow. Novels.
And I have to get from point "planning the date" to point "Wherein Disasterous Relatives Strike" with
cuttingrmfloor. Seriously.
I like it when things are going smoothly. Let's hope Marah can kick ass as well as take names, now, shall we? (in reference to the entire freak thing)
Not much with coherent, but then you have to consider that I stayed at the Willow House until midnight, then came home and in the process, was narrowly escaping being mangled/killed in the car, and then not only was up, but then got a rather unmistakable summons about a malfunctioning machine, and that ties in with ministering to the needy. 'Cept most clergy-calls don't include so many boom-'splosions. (No one was hurt in the progress of the clergy-call, except perhaps sanity of many concerned. For which we'll continue to think good thoughts, both for the unhurt, and for the maintaining of said sanity.)
In passing, I note that I do tend to multitask very scarily, rarely devoting the full of my attention to any one thing or person for longer than a few seconds or a few minutes at a time. Even when I'm reading fic, I wind up jumping between the fic and e-mail to clear out spam, or friends page. There are some few precious things that take up near unto my entire attention. I can't play with the computer and have a meaningful conversation with Darkside, not if I'm reading words of any sort whatsoever. I'd have to be Bejeweling or something in order to pay attention to him, and even that feels wrong.
Writers' group has switched from Thursday to Wednesday, so people looking for me Wednesday shan't find me at home in the evenings. I shall, however, likely be at home Thursday evenings.
V was back. She and I need to get together about Gemini again. I now have
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Wow. Novels.
And I have to get from point "planning the date" to point "Wherein Disasterous Relatives Strike" with
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
I like it when things are going smoothly. Let's hope Marah can kick ass as well as take names, now, shall we? (in reference to the entire freak thing)
Not much with coherent, but then you have to consider that I stayed at the Willow House until midnight, then came home and in the process, was narrowly escaping being mangled/killed in the car, and then not only was up, but then got a rather unmistakable summons about a malfunctioning machine, and that ties in with ministering to the needy. 'Cept most clergy-calls don't include so many boom-'splosions. (No one was hurt in the progress of the clergy-call, except perhaps sanity of many concerned. For which we'll continue to think good thoughts, both for the unhurt, and for the maintaining of said sanity.)
In passing, I note that I do tend to multitask very scarily, rarely devoting the full of my attention to any one thing or person for longer than a few seconds or a few minutes at a time. Even when I'm reading fic, I wind up jumping between the fic and e-mail to clear out spam, or friends page. There are some few precious things that take up near unto my entire attention. I can't play with the computer and have a meaningful conversation with Darkside, not if I'm reading words of any sort whatsoever. I'd have to be Bejeweling or something in order to pay attention to him, and even that feels wrong.