I feel like cutting off someone in public. Hard. Then if they feigned madness, I would know they were lying but give them the finger anyway in Japanese! If they thought they were tough or anything like that, I could always outrace them to safety in my 89' Civic. Or, on a whim, I could get out of my car and fist fight them. Except fist fights are for pussies. When he got out of his car, I would step on the gas and he would try to dodge my car while I tried to hit him. If he won at this game it wouldn't matter, because I could always send a pack of zombies over to his house when he was sleeping. Strong zombies. I would get his address by asking his family, who I would probably know because I'm popular and famous. If I didn't know his family, I would have to kill him right then because the zombies sure as hell wouldn't be able to find him without my help.

My English teacher from Alfred was this feminist champion who graded everything like we were in fourth grade like she was. She underlined words and wrote comments like, "put your thesis at the end of this paragraph," "well put," or "let's do it anal after class." She was hot but she gave me bad grades, especially on the papers I didn't turn in, so I didn't. If I was taking Mythology like Mr. Freeman, she would have graded this paper about Oedipus similarly. The paper, if you haven't seen it, is stunningly glorious like Aquafresh Toothpaste.

While you're at it, go download The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny fourteen more times to your computer. At the least. It kind of reminds me of a quick post I devised before I knew of its existence. Lemon Demon paints a better battle picture than I. I was a playhouse doodler eating crayons and he was Michaelangelo. I'd link to it, but I'm lazy. I'd be sitting on the couch right now if it weren't so far away. Also, then I'd be further from the computer and squinting. I would not typing either, because my arms aren't long enough to stretch from the living room to this room, oddly enough. One day they will be. And on that day I'll be able to enter the Long Man-Arms Competition and practically walk through to the finals and possibly win, if Billy Mays is having a bad enough day. But this is real life; it's not some Oxyclean Commercial where all the dirt is rubbed away. Sometimes you lose and you've got to accept it.

I laughed 'till I cried.

well, I just got an email of which I shall respond to because it's from my favorite pen pal I've ever had. Oh, and Kate sent me one too.

~peace