small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>I dig the skin that I'm in</strong>

Monday, March 22

I dig the skin that I'm in

Did I mention that when I was in the Hurricane Friday night I walked up to the bar to ask Steve for a frosty cocktail, but there a couple of really young chicks yakking and blocking my path. So I very politely tapped one of em on the shoulder and excused myself as I squeezed past. And when I got past I gently touched her on the hand and said thank you. And do you know why I did that? Because that’s the kind of polite muthafucker I am, that’s why. But suddenly the chick snatched up her hand and gave me a look like I had just dropped a pile of steaming hot shit on her fuckin hand. Stupid little cum-catcher, sneer at me will you? Its times like that when all I can think of is how can I mentally scar this little cock socket for life, and I actually entertained the thought of peeing all over her. It reminded me of this time back in the day when I was sitting at the Hurricane minding my own business and shit, and decided to go take a leak. When I come back to my stool there was some chick sitting with her back to me a few feet away. I sat down and lit a smoke and took a pull off my drink when I heard this god awful scream. It was coming from the chick sitting next to me. Apparently when she turned around and saw me she did a full-on freak and proceeded to loose her fucking mind, all crying and screaming whilst running out the door. Everybody was looking around like what the fuck, when this cat came thru the bar and walked up to me. He explained that the woman was raped a few months ago and guess who carried a strong resemblance to her attacker? You fuckin guessed right, me. Goddammit I felt like shit for a long time after that until it hit me. I’m all sorry as hell that the chick was raped and all that, but it wasn’t me. And why should I be made to feel like crap for something I had nothing to do with? Further more, this is the way I look goddammit. I can’t or won’t ever change that, and if being around me makes you uncomfortable, then you need to either get with it, or get the fuck out’a my sight. It’s like here in the office some chick on the fuckin elevator informed me that I made her feel threatened. I very bluntly told her if that was the case then it was a personal problem and that I felt sorry for her stupid ass, cause she’s missing out. Dammit, I know I’m not a handsome man and not “”normal”” sized like other people’s kids. But muthafuck! As if I don’t have enough issues clouding my head that I have to worry about tiptoeing around people all fuckin day long so as not to “spook” their stupid little small-thinking, afraid to break out of the fucking box, asses.


Post a Comment

<< Home