2004-07-19 - 1:41 p.m.

I went to a yard sale on Saturday and overheard this bit of conversation.

Customer:Well, it's not that I don't want to buy it, it is just that, well, you're such a punk. Your garbage always gets on my lawn. Your dog has bit me like 3 times. I could call the animal control officer and have that dog put down, but it isn't the dog's fault your an asshole.

Seller:What's your point?

Customer:You got my daughter pregnant. You ran over my cat. You told the cable company that I was stealing cable when I clearly wasn't. You demanded the RIAA investigate my online activities.


Customer:Don't you think $5 is a lot for a used tie rack in this condition?

It isn't so much that I am angry as that I am disappointed. It isn't often in someone's life that they bring life to the dead, and I just want a little appreciation. Is that so much to ask? Everywhere I look I see people slacking at their jobs and trying to get by with as little as possible. But I manage to play God and risk the wrath of Heaven by breathing new life into a dead, slightly rotten body and all I get is blank stares, gibbering and the occasional shriek. What does it take to get a little appreciation?

Please remove me from your mailing list You know who you are. It just makes me sick the kinds of things about which you write. You really should have your head examined. I mean, we all sometimes wake up in a fresh grave or find ourselves in a strange hotel room with no idea how we got there and an empty handgun which has recently been discharged. Plus, there are those mysterious rashes which always seem to form patterns that look like words telling me to do things. Things I'll be sorry for later, but I need to do them. Don't try to stop me. I think it is a message from my guardian angle. Yeah, some people have angels, I have angles. These angles make everything seem distorted and alien. They speak to me through the pools of blood I spit up every morning. Anyway, if I get one more spam from you about hot girls or whatever, I'm going to report you to some agency that hunts down weirdos. I swear...

Reading tea leaves
Wishing I hadn't drunk the liquid in that beaker
Plotting points on a graph

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