She tries to start trouble at a thanksgiving after meal family football game by inviting daydreams ex-boyfriend. I set up ex-boyfriend by passing on a chance to intercept a pass sailing towards him. Instead I brace myself and let him reach out to catch the ball. I stick an expertly placed elbow into his forehead and he drops like limp biscuit. The ball deflects upward and I catch it and run for an uncontested touchdown. Nobody tries to tackle me because everyone is so concerned about Ex-b/f. He stays three days in the hospital just to get sympathy from daydream.
So me and bitchy best friend have words in a bagel shop. And I call her a cunt. And she tells me that my g/f has cheated on me. Then she tells me she is "turned on" and wants to have sex with me. I tell her she just want me to say "yes" so she can run back to Daydream girlfriend and tell her "told ya so."
Bitchy best friend knocks on the door in a trench coat and tells me she is going to rape me and she does. Daydream girlfriend calls me afterwards and tells me, "she wants to get back with me."
I've got to do dishes though. I should have taken M.'s invitation to dress up in a naughty french maid's outfit for me and clean my house for 10 dollars and hour. I can afford it because my wallet is fat. 275 dollars fat. I'll be eating Manwhiches tonight. I've got a bottle of Oil of Olay for my face. Brand names, not the no-name stuff. Because you suckers can't play poker. I check raised you on the river. And you never saw it coming. But I can't spend my money on M's cleaning services, and anyway J. has asked me to stop picturing M in the French Maid outfit. So I'll save my money. I need to buy SR/22 insurance. Your government has agreed to reinstate my driving privileges. Watch out bums. I am coming after your ass.
Today at work people stink worse than me. I smell the Diaper lady all the way at the other end of the register. Somebody needs a change I think.
I have to work Customer service today. This is the second day in a row. They weren't busy early in the day, but I had 10 Western Unions before 6 pm. After 3 or 4 Western Unions you start hating the human race. After 6, you question your sanity for working. After 10 you just drift off in a psychotic state. The person at the keyboard types information and Hershel Walker like, your real personality shakes and marvels at how the typist keeps typing. "That guy is crazy." Your real personality says. "Which one of us is the real one?" Asks the the other personality.
Heck if I know.