28th
February
2004
Stations of the Angry
posted in Anti-intellectual Thuggery |
Well that’s a son-of-a-bitch if there ever was one: condemned to watch Mel Gibson movies for eternity. You’d be pissed off too. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and left the courtroom, shoulders hunched forward, sort of a Bob Dylan against the world attitude in my stride.
No sooner do I get out the door but some schmuck loads me up with a 43 inch plasma screen unit and a box of DVDs. Mad Max is on top. Boy, I got to carry that weight all the way home to skull-fuck acres.
Shit… I tripped over my own shoelaces and fell face first in the street. Tore a big hole in my new Dockers and spread DVDs up the block in front of me. Now I gotta pick them all up.
To be continued…
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