Yesterday I was waiting for a parking space to open up in a part of town where it’s really hard to find a spot. I spied a guy coming out of the establishment in question heading for his car. He really took his time. Finally after playing with his package and getting in the car, he starts it up. For the next 10 minutes he tunes the radio, adjusts the mirror, picks his teeth, looks at his ugly mug and then finally backs out… as… slowly… as possible. As he’s passing by I just can’t help but stare at the guy, some old geezer from Michigan, and as he’s going by, he flips me a bird. Now you just know this guy knew I was waiting for the spot, he just wanted to be a prick. I guess being a prick makes him happy.

This morning at Starbucks, this really handsome couple sitting next to me are at each others throats again. Now from where I see it, the woman is just a ball buster. From what I could gather she’s pissed off about something and is just happy busting his balls. I’ve seen these two go at it before. He finally had enough and got up and walked out. It’s obvious that these two really like each other, and that he really puts up with a lot of shit for her, but it appears to me that she has made a career out of busting his balls. (It’s amazing that anyone is involved in a relationship at all. Some really horny people in this world) All of this is going on while some farking Guido is yelling at the top of his lungs at someone about something on his cell phone. All I’m thinking about at this point is “kill all cell phones.” I’d like to tell this guy that no one cares or gives a shit about his farking phone conversation, but I’m afraid by the telltale sigh of black knee-high nylon socks, cheap bonded leather Beatle boots with buckle and day glow shirt, this guy would probably pull a knife.

My time to be pissed off is certainly coming, I’ve got to drive to Palm Beach today. I gotta remember to bring my rocket launcher.