Some People Suck.

Oh, good GOD. People are such inconceivable pustules sometimes. I swear I felt like an Iraqi village today, all besieged and molested. First, this guy who obviously has a wee little peepeepee cut me off on Interstate 75 lest I arrived three-point-six frucking seconds ahead of him at the light at the end of the off-ramp.

Then, once I made it to a parking spot after following an idiot on the other end of the speed spectrum who insisted upon taking seven hours to go over each of the four-hundred speed bumps in the school lot, I watched this guy light up a cancer stick right in front of the sign that says, NO SMOKING: Because we care. My ASS. The campus security guys smoke right there all the time!

But then! The best thing EVER happened. I wheezed through the asshole’s wall of smoke and headed to the elevator, which is at the far end of a third-floor breezeway. The lift door opened, and out stepped a young woman…with a cigarette to her goddamned lips. She whuffed out a copious cloud of the second-hand variety and glared at me with her super intelligent eyes filled with “I love humanity” attitude. No matter that it is against the fucking law to smoke here and that there are five billion signs with the little red slash through the lit cigarette. Why, why wasn’t I brave enough to push her ass over the rail? She slipped on her sliminess, officer. (Special note: No smokers were harmed—by me—in the writing of this post.)

After class, I found myself forced to go to my favorite place, Walmart. Vexing experiences today at Wally World! I turned a corner in the sock section only to run into a buggy that some slumbag had left blocking the aisle. In it were the desecrated remains of some high-fat, processed food products. That’s stealing, slumbag! I. DO. NOT. UNDERSTAND. PEOPLE. The upside is that—as the priest of my former church used to say—nothing’s bad enough that a few good funerals won’t take care of it.

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