can't stand the people. those selfish selfish ingrates.
the pretentious verbosity(!) that spews forth from these gaping american maws, frothy substance, sticky and smelly. hinders mobility and honest opinion. the mixture of air, spittle and bullshit bubble it's way into the ears and nose and eyes of the speaker.
whatever worth i have accumulated in this worthless little town, it seems, is nothing but old chewing gum and bits of pocket lint to the rest of the world.
i hate hearing other people talk. i hate your wit. you smell bad. your teeth are yellow. you have bad body odor. you must use old people soap and shampoo, you dusty old thing.
i hate listening to myself type.
but i feel like typing.
i have a week to kill.
a book to read.
a back to scratch.
a receptionist to creepily stare at from the corner of the room.
my fingers wiggle with creepy anticipation.
late night phone calls.
it's like a bake sale in my mouth and everyone's coming.
you're welcome to it. coming in my mouth, that is.