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My Profile
Gift from Hil Part 2 - 2014-12-30
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10:56 a.m. - 2011-05-16
I had intended to speak of the baseball card deal, which went very well, everybody walked away happy. And then of trotting off to the garden center to buy Mick's birthday present. His birthday isn't for another month, but he was afraid someone might buy it in the meantime. So. We have a lovely concrete gargoyle, a rather original looking fellow rather than the more common copies of the Notre Dame ones (which are fun in their own right), sitting on the front garden's retaining wall. He's angled in such a way as to be leering at anyone coming up our steep driveway. Mick's tickled to bits and I think it's funny and very apropos. This sneering muscle-y, winged, horned beastie doing guard duty for a house with flowery window boxes and blooming vines and stained glass stars and moons and suns and a ginormous peace sign hanging between the second storey windows? 'Warning: The hippie chick within is guarded by a beast, so mind yourself if you know what's good for you.' BUT�I just got back from the gym and need to get two things off my chest. First? OW! OW! FUCKETY FUCK FUCK OWWWWWWWW!!!!! (My ankle hurts like a mad bastard. The 'twinge' might have been a mild sprain after all.) And second? HANG UP AND DRIVE!!!!!!!!! It's pouring rain, the roads are slicker than goose poop and flooded in some places. Visibility is cut in half. And still those selfish morons are weaving all over, slowing down and speeding up, driving like drunks�all because they just HAVE to text and yap. You know, I didn't see the President out there today, nor any obvious trauma surgeons talking their interns through some emergency procedures while they were racing to get to the hospital to save some guy's life. The President and perhaps others in a real emergency (like my made-up trauma surgeon) I'd let slide on the driving and being on the phone thing. You other jerks? You selfish idiots who love playing with your phones more than your genitals, and obviously love your phones and running your goddamn mouths and texting your very important bulletins more than you care about your kids or the strangers whose lives you're putting at risk? You need to die. Now. And don't take anyone with you, you cretins. Just take your goddamn phones and your miserable self-important cruddy selves and go die. Really. There. I feel better now.
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