This whole "responsible adult" thing is killing my buzz -- I've had three fucking phone calls before 9 a.m., and it's feeling like EVERYONE wants a piece of me, and I HATE that. So what's my solution? Blasting "Just One Fix" by Ministry really loud and thrashing around in my chair. What rebellion. And this? is why I'm quite sure I would make a terrible wife. (My aversion to responsibility, not thrashing around to Ministry -- that's actually pretty cool, if I do say so myself.)
But seriously, I've felt like that for the past few weeks, like eveyone's got designs on my time when all I really want to do is what
I want to do, even if that's juts sit on my couch in my jammies and watch TV. (Oh, goody, "Du Hast" is on now, another good thrash-yourself-around song, even though Ramstein ruins it with the little wimpy synthesizer. Still, if it doesn't get you thrashing, you at least have to giggle at the imperious-sounding German guy.)
However, I would be remiss in my
crabbiness (waith, that ain't right -- how about gratitude?) if I didn't shout out a YUUUUUUGE thanks to the
Og family -- Og himself for changing my oil last night, and his lovely wife for letting me stay past normal visiting hours to get my stories done. Shooting may be in order very soon, my friend.
Hey, lady, you wanna meet me at the range, I’m all set to arm you and turn you loose.
And es nada. For you, the first oil change is gratis.