Originally posted Halloween, 2007.
Considering the recent “Spliffing” behind my building, and the
“Spooging” in front of my building (as evidenced by the Coney Island
Whitefish who has been dying an incredibly slow death a scant three feet
from my front door);
And considering that last year I had some buck-toothed condo
management hag appear at my door, on a particularly hot and sunny day
when I was hanging my kurtas up for no more than a half hour, and
audaciously attempted to gain access to my condo to “assist” me to take
down the “offending” garments, as they were some type of “quality of
life” infraction here at the condo;
I think this year I will opt out of this nonsense and simply be
“unavailable” to attend to the annual begging forth of high fructose
corn syrup products–my ego screams it, and simply put, my wallet thinks
it’s the right thing to do (and the tasty way to do it!–damn you
Wilfred!)
So Halloween morn’, I shall put my now-thriving yucca inside, as well
as all my shoes. And after work, the Maharajah and I will go to dinner
and the movies, and avoid the whole parade of beggars. I think this
might be the beginnings of a lovely tradition.
Eat my corn, crotchlings!
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What sayeth thou? (Mean people suck, don't fuck it up.)
"I hate people."
"People" stop being "people" when they become friends.
Friends stop being friends when they become assholes.
So to refine my hatred, I hate people and I hate assholes.