Friday, November 04, 2005
He's feelin it
Oh my God I HATE WADDLERS! Man!

I do not hate fat people. Although the truly fat would like nothing better than to seize us "Skinnies" (as they call us) by the husk and sink their sugar-warped teeth into our skin, they are too slow to get close. So I do not fear them either. It's safe to be fat around me.

But it is not safe to waddle in front of me! Fuck! Is there any worse feeling than to be stuck behind some bowling ball of a person who insists on walking not against the right side of the hall or agains the left side but straight down the fucking center? Going for that strike there, avoid the gutters. And they're always huff huffing and shuff shuffling and OH GOD it drives me mad. Yesterday and today both I've had to Solid Snake my way into the building because fat chicks WHO HAD THE AUDACITY EVEN TO LEAVE THEIR PARTY HATS AT HOME claimed entire hallways, absorbing space into their rolls like a Brawnie towel tossed onto a puddle of chicken grease.

I'm gonna start carryin a chain saw for pruning of excess body real estate.

Ironically, breakfast today is Halloween oreos and a bag of Snickers bars.

In related news, does anyone know what a "husk" is? I've been challenged about it before, but it's actually of Romingerian etymology.

Today I have a substance abuse evaluation. I'm going to whip out a cocktail shaker midway through the interview, nonchalantly pour vodka and kahlua from airline bottles, pull some ice out of a miniature portable cooler, and then whip out a cut glass tumbler. Then I'll pull out another, and offer the counselor one.

I can not believe fucking Denver decriminalized pot. I know where I'm moving when my liver gives out.

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