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Totally sucks. I hate that shit. You're just trying to live your life and mind your own business and some punkass has gotta fuck things up. Like breaking into your car. Like running into your car and leaving.
I hate punkass punks.
I'm usiing the 'hate' word a lot today. I think I need to write a poem: An Ode to a Sidler. That will help bring my blood pressure down. Until I hear his mealy mouth grub-worm-like brain hholding court on whatever ELSE it is he knows enough words to to make it sound like he's a goddammed lifelong professional.
He's got a freaking mail order bride who spends her time spending his money on his house. And she won't fuck him until they're married. He's DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
Yoohooo, Sidler? Are you listening? Stop worrying about MY job, and E's job, and T's job and FIND SOMETHING HELPFUL TO DO.
kthxbai
(having a serious backslide...I'll be OK in a few, just feeling overwhelmed, with reason.)
Tanks for listenin'!
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