Tuesday, May 22, 2012

A Night In The Life Of A Complete Loser

Yesterday, I had to drive my daughter to soccer practice and, due to time constraints, I had to waste my money on a Burger King burger for dinner. As I'm sitting outside the drive thru window, the young kid behind the window says, "Sir, would you like any condiments with your meal?"

I say, "Sure. I'd like some ketchup please."

He says, "No problem sir. I'll get that right in there for you."

I say, "Thanks."

Then he hands me the bag and I drive away. As I said earlier, time was short so I decided to masticate my burger & fries at the park where my daughter played soccer.

We get there, my daughter heads to practice & I open my bag of crappy vittles to find, lo & behold, no ketchup.

Evidently the kid was a complete moron.
Seems to be an everyday thing here in America these days.

As I'm eating, I start fantasizing about how cool it would be to be the guy who just snaps when faced with this situation. How this latest in a million of niggling little setbacks just drives him screaming over the edge. He'd race back to the BK with his largest caliber weapon, force the kid to lick ketchup off his boots right before he splattered the kids brains all over the drive thru window. Of course, he'd look exactly like Michael Douglas in Falling Down.

On the positive side, maybe when the kid reincarnates into his next life as a drive thru technician he'd remember to put the fucking ketchup in the bag.

After I masticate my beef Frisbee I drive to Lowes. We have a wasp nest forming on our garage so I need something to kill the little fuckers.

It's nothing personal. It has been fascinating watching them build the thing, but all I hear are the future shrieks of my children as they're stung.

Anyway, I grab my little can of wasp killing spray & head to the check out lane only to realize that, with my previous stop at BK, I've left my wallet in my car.

As I walk out to my car to retrieve my wallet a white car is driving up. Since I'm cutting through the empty parking spaces we both arrive at the same parking space simultaneously. The guy in the car then jerks his wheel so his car momentarily comes at me. As I pass his passenger side the lump of flab in the passenger seat says "Learn to walk faster."

In response, I say, "Tell ya what, you learn to put the fork down Chubso, and I'll learn to walk faster, 'kay?"

Then I walk to my car & retrieve my wallet.

When I turn around, the driver, a big fat lard ass, is standing by his car glaring at me.

My first thought is "Wow, I bet your ass crack hasn't been wiped completely clean in years buddy. As a matter of fact, I bet you leave a little brown stain everywhere you sit."

When I get closer he starts threatening to beat my ass.

I say to him, "Gee buddy, what are you gonna do, pummel me with your titties."

Man, that really pissed him off. So he comes at me.

Now, I've carried a knife since I was a teenager. In the back of my head I'm thinking if Large Larry should manage the impossible & actually hurt me, I'm gonna ram that thing right in his fucking eyeball.

Because, quite frankly, human life doesn't mean all that much to me anymore. Why does this fat tub of goop deserve to live while all the animals it has taken to keep him alive get to die. Seriously, just imagine the larger than normal trail of dead animals that stretch back behind this lard ass. The number of poor unfortunate cows & chickens & pigs that were masticated & ground into fecal matter inside Blimpy's over-sized gut. Hell, I bet some of their trace residue is still caked on his ass crack.

Instead, I just side step at the last second & stick out my foot. Fat boy goes down like a ton...wait a minute, let me amend that, like 17 tons of bricks, face first onto the concrete. He doesn't even get his jiggly arms out to cushion the fall.

I think, "Alrighty then..." Totally fucking amazed that my half assed self defense move actually worked.

I then turn & head into Lowes, pay for wasp poison, and when I come back outside Porky Pig is standing next to his equally Porky Pigged out wife as she dabs a crumpled napkin in an effort to sop up the blood that's all over his pudgy kisser. Hopefully a few teeth were cracked too, just for fun. He sees me and starts whining about how he's gonna call the cops & yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah..."

I look at him and say, "Better lay off the donuts Herbie."

Then I get in my car & drive away.

As I'm driving down the hill away from Lowes a cop car is driving up the other side of the road. I wonder, "Hmmm, is that for me?"

So far though, no knocks at the door.

I can't help thinking, "What the fuck? I go out for wasp spray & I'm suddenly in a confrontation with Lard Bucket the Food Abyss."

By the by, if you're still trying to figure out who the complete loser is, I'll give you a hint, it wasn't Fatso or his equally Fatso wife.

Also, I never actually did anything to Lardy. He did it all to himself. With a little luck, the resultant rise in his blood pressure caused his aorta to blow out after I left.

One can hope, can't one?


just_another_dick said...

By the way Shrub, I wasn't trying to belittle your anti-Smuckerberg outrage.

It's just that, for whatever its concrete worth, Crackbook does seem to give people what they want.

The new hire I've been working with seems to divide her day between Crackbook, texting & napping.

In fact, from what I can see, I'm the only person at my job who doesn't Crackbook obsessively.

They seem a hell of lot happier than I am.
I entertain suicidal thoughts at least once a day.
I have my desire for complete oblivion so rationalized that the only reason I can think of not to do it is because I'd stick my wife with 4 kids to raise alone.

I don't like Smuckerburger either but Crackbook obviously fills a need.

Morocco Bama said...

No offense taken. In regards to these freaks wanting something, or anything, these days, they're told what to want, and want it they do. Facebook is just another example. I say this whilst my daughter loves Facebook, so I'm not immune. It hits very close to home. Every day, we lose more and more of her to The Machine. That, in and of itself, is devastating. My wife and I feel truly powerless. It feels like their fate is a roll of the dice, regardless of everything we've done and will continue to do for them. The countervailing forces in their lives are so immense, it near impossible to overcome it. And then there are the parents who never give it a thought. I envy them in there blissfully selfish ignorance.

If Marx were alive, he'd say Facebook is opium for The Masses, and he'd be right.

just_another_dick said...

I don't know how old your girls are but my two oldest are teenagers.
My oldest daughter has leaped headfirst into everything I have a marked distaste for, The Voice, American Idol, Hunger Games, etc.

My oldest son, on the other hand, finds all of that to be a trite bore, and I find him telling me things that I didn't figure out until I was in my 30s.

He has plunged headfirst into music and at night his playlist will veer from Leadbelly & Charlie Patton into Ween & Big Black & then bounce into Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, Tom Waits & Captain Beefheart.

He is great distances beyond anything I could comprehend when I was his age.

Instead of the father who screams at the ceiling for his kid to 'Turn that shit down,' I find myself yelling up for him to 'Turn that shit up son.'

His sense of humor is as cutting as anyone out there & he seems to love to slice & dice mass culture & the mass mind.

I just hope he doesn't end up as a miserable maudlin shit like his old man.

Anonymous said...

Belliosto said...

A joke on George C. Scott, John Wayne, Martin Sheen Day.

These three guys die in a car wreck and they all go to Hell. When they arrive the Devil asks each of the men what their sin was.

The first guy says, "It's gotta be the booze. I'm always drunk."
The Devil decides to lock him in a room with nothing but shelves of every kind of alcohol imaginable.
The guy's thinking, "Fuck yeah! Look at all this alcohol!" and runs into the room.

The second guy says, "It's the women, I could never stay faithful to my wife."
The devil opens up the second door and inside is nothing but the finest looking naked women as far as the eye can see. The guy was to be locked in for 100 years. He couldn't believe it and his dick got instantly hard and he went running into the room as the Devil locked the door behind him.

The third dude says, "It's gotta be the bud. I'm always tokin' up."
The Devil opens the third door to reveal nothing but fields of 10ft tall icky, sticky, take-a-toke, make-ya-choke, chronic, green, death bud. The stoner can't believe it. He goes in and takes a seat Indian style with his back to the door and the Devil shuts and locks the door.

One hundred years pass and the Devil returns to check on the three men.
He opens the first door and the man comes crawling out. He's got an empty bottle in one hand, he's completely naked, hasn't shaved or showered in years, and is covered in his own puke, shit, and piss. "I'll never drink again!" he says. The devil says it's good he learned something and decides to give him a second shot at life.

The devil then opens the second door and the man comes running out twice as fast as when he went in. "I'm fucking gay!" he screams. The devil figures he's learned not to cheat on his wife and decides to give him a second chance too.

The devil then comes to the third door. He opens it and sees nothing has changed. The stoner is still sitting there in the same position that he was 100 years ago.
The Devil asks him if he's learned anything.
The stoner turns around as a tear rolls down his cheek, "Dude ... you got a light?"