Yeah, it’s been a while, sue me. You don’t pay, I don’t write.
Would it be going too far if I were to have a sign made that says “IF YOU <expletive> PARK IN MY <expletive> PARKING SPACE, I WILL <expletive> KILL YOU WITH A BADGER.”?
My condo association, who, by the way, is a bunch of ass-monkeys who couldn’t find their collective asses if they went to google.com and typed “Where is my ass” and hit SEARCH, still hasn’t rebuilt my garage that burned down so I have ONE parking spot. ONE. Which just reminds me I’m single.
Which state rocks by the way.
Then, if my day wasn’t insanely annoying as it stood, I get home to find I’ve left the TV on, which normally isn’t a problem, except that I’d left it on Spike and Ultimate Fighting was on. I fugging hate Ultimate Fighting. So I’m putting my stuff down and unpacking my pockets and have to listen to, “OMG! He’s bitten his kneecap off! I’ve never seen anything like this EVER!” Which can’t be true because every time I’ve accidentally seen Ultimate Fighting, someone loses a kneecap to mastication.