June 20, 2001

  • You want to know how I'm feeling after returning from a 3-mile run?


    I shouted Fuck You three times while hauling. 


    Once to some sniveling teenage boy who caterwaulled "Run, Forrest, run."


    Once again to some fat bastard in a car who abruptly cut me off pulling into his driveway with his significant bitch. (I had to slow to avoid hitting him, so I clapped and shouted "Move it!"  He rudely replied "Shut up."  Fuck You.


    And then again to the same fat bastard when he decided to follow me and caught up with me a quarter-mile down the street shouting "Asshole" repeatedly from his car window.  Fuck You. (I had sensed him coming, I could feel his energy latch and lurk, like a faggot, upon my swiftly fleeting figure.)


    I'm feeling like a mean-ass son-of-a-bitch tonight.  And I'm prepared to backup my sentiments.

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