Someone didn’t make his breakfast oats last night. Someone had to Timmy’s it up this morning. Someone got to the right speaker after a muggle got to the left speaker but then made it to the pickup window first. Someone’s awesome! Someone’s terribly petty, but awesome.
Dude came into the hardware store while I was browsing the light bulb aisle during my lunch hour. He walked in with music playing on his phone. Loudly. Without headphones. Like he was walking into a pool party at his cokehead brother Marty’s house and Marty, on account of the costly coke habit, couldn’t afford a stereo so he asked this guy to turn it up to 20. But this wasn’t Marty’s house – it was a public store. Hey, Goober, this ain’t the WWE and you don’t get no entrance music. Now go get that lumber to make a ramp for the needy disabled kids over at the orphanage, you fucking sack of shit.
Then I headed to McDonald’s because time was running out to get back to work, I justified. So I choked down, with no satisfaction but plenty of unbridled vigor, a double Big Mac meal with a Coke. It was well assembled and perky. I took a circuitous route back to the office so my right hand had time to ensure no fry went uneaten. My shame, greasy hands and bitch tits slinked back into work and the afternoon coasted on.
Got home in time to catch most of the terrific Leaf’s game and to find that my replacement laptop keyboard had been delivered. It’s terrific! So potato-chip free, unboogered and the keys are as soft as a Carolan wang on a wedding night. No offense to any particular Carolan on that one. Pick your least favourite. I choose Bob Carolan. Legend is he’s horribly disfigured, brutally honest and totally invisible except his testicles which are, in every way, spectacular.