Hog on the Run
Friday, April 22, 2005
Writing
While the ire is hot.
To the aging professor who cut me up in Asda's car park:
I hate you. I do not care how new your pathetic car is. I do not care that I may have driven within 20 foot of it.
When your pale, moon shaped, beard wreathed face rose like a guppy's from the gloom I felt disgust, and bowel clenching fury. Why did you goggle at me? Your beady little eyes fixed upon me as if seeing the world for the first time, but surely, with your driving skills, this must happen all the time. And your Paddington Bear hard stare? My God, I swear, I was so scared, no, really.
Thank the unlucky star that shone down on your unfortunate birth that I didn't just ram the back of your precious motor. Believe me, I was imagining doing it, and it was good.
Next time I see you, all bets are off, sucker!
Thanks. I feel better now.
:: gibbered Okapi, at 3:25 pm
2 Comments:
That fucker has it coming. I can feel it in my bones.
Seeing as how I am amazingly gormless, I probably wouldn't recognise him. I think he's safe.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Writing
While the ire is hot.
To the aging professor who cut me up in Asda's car park:
I hate you. I do not care how new your pathetic car is. I do not care that I may have driven within 20 foot of it.
When your pale, moon shaped, beard wreathed face rose like a guppy's from the gloom I felt disgust, and bowel clenching fury. Why did you goggle at me? Your beady little eyes fixed upon me as if seeing the world for the first time, but surely, with your driving skills, this must happen all the time. And your Paddington Bear hard stare? My God, I swear, I was so scared, no, really.
Thank the unlucky star that shone down on your unfortunate birth that I didn't just ram the back of your precious motor. Believe me, I was imagining doing it, and it was good.
Next time I see you, all bets are off, sucker!
Thanks. I feel better now.
To the aging professor who cut me up in Asda's car park:
I hate you. I do not care how new your pathetic car is. I do not care that I may have driven within 20 foot of it.
When your pale, moon shaped, beard wreathed face rose like a guppy's from the gloom I felt disgust, and bowel clenching fury. Why did you goggle at me? Your beady little eyes fixed upon me as if seeing the world for the first time, but surely, with your driving skills, this must happen all the time. And your Paddington Bear hard stare? My God, I swear, I was so scared, no, really.
Thank the unlucky star that shone down on your unfortunate birth that I didn't just ram the back of your precious motor. Believe me, I was imagining doing it, and it was good.
Next time I see you, all bets are off, sucker!
Thanks. I feel better now.
:: gibbered Okapi, at 3:25 pm
2 Comments:
That fucker has it coming. I can feel it in my bones.
Seeing as how I am amazingly gormless, I probably wouldn't recognise him. I think he's safe.
