“He [neighbor's "possessed" dog] won’t let me stop killing until he gets his fill of blood.” – David Berkowitz

I’ve been getting into a lot of fights lately.  Yeah, great, so fucking what.  Huge revelation there, right? Well the thing is that I really have never gotten into that many fights.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to smashing a dude’s face in, but the frequency has definitely increased.  Another strange detail is that the reasons for these fights is just as mysterious as their recent frequency.  It’s not like I don’t know why I’ve been crushing fools, but the thing of it is that the reasons are not even close to legit.  I mean, the scene has been the same every time – a bar, and yes there have been significant amounts of liquor involved in each occurrence – mostly that demon concoction vodka-redbull, I like my uppers and downers together bitches. But the fucking reasons are just garbage.  This all leads me to believe that there is something else at play here, something besides just the garden variety ‘some jackass needed his face pounded in’ type shit.  I’ll tell you straight up, it worries me a little bit.

So I do this assessment, you know, size up every aspect of my bullshit little life and try to figure out which piece of the pie chart is pissing me off.

Job, finances, health & fitness, friends, girlfriend, home, hobbies… all kickass… this does not compute?

With everything like off the fucking charts I’m sitting here like, what the fuck man!? You’re obviously angry about something, what the hell is it!?  So I start charting all the things that have been pissing me off lately.

Like I got my brakes on my truck done about a month ago.  Took the time, went in, got it all squared away – even got an oil change and new windshield wipers put on, rotate tires all at the same time.  So not two days after I get my fucking brakes fixed do I start to hear this rubbing and rattling when I slow down.  I try to rationalize for a few days like somehow it’s just ‘that new brake sound’ but it becomes painfully apparent to me that it’s no such fucking thing.  Obviously they’ve fucked something up.  Now I kick myself at first because it’s ridiculous for me not to be replacing my own brakes in the first place, but I’m a lazy modern ape, I’ve got better shit to do with my time.  Besides, I’m stimulating the economy, putting more money back into the system, right? Well work was really busy and I had about a million other things going on where I couldn’t just dump my truck off for two days while the mechanic figures out just exactly how he’s retarded.  So every time I come to a stop, slow down, do any fucking thing my goddamn brakes are rubbing and rattling.  Well this shit is absolutely eating away at me.  It’s like I don’t want to even get into my fucking truck any more its making me so pissed off.  And I keep telling myself, ‘dude, just go get them fixed, quit being a lazy fuck’, but I still procrastinate longer.  So now my own procrastinating is pissing the fuck out of me.  It gets to the point where I’m just about to lose my fucking mind over these scraping brakes until I finally find a window when I gotta go out of town for work and can afford to dump the trunk off for a couple days and get that shit fixed.  Well I go in and explain the whole mess, tell them I want the brakes checked and repaired.  The mechanic agrees and I bug out of town for a week on business.  Get back yesterday and the shit was STILL FUCKING SCRAPING!?  What the fucking FUCK!?  So I go into the office immediately and they need the thing for another day to figure it out / fix it.  And I’m just about at the end of my goddamn rope over this.

Stupid right?  Of course it is, but it’s this shit that is grinding me up.  I feel like a goddamn gutter.  Yeah fuck-tard, you heard me right.. I feel like a fucking gutter.  Here I am at the side of this busy stinking street.  A real busy, traffic filled, gridlocked thoroughfare.  And I’m filled up with old newspapers, rotting fast food wrappers, chewed up gum, cigarette butts, broken glass, and odd pieces of broken electronics.  And my fucking mind is this street-sweeper that fights in vain.  Dirty, greasy, swirling brushes only spreading out my garbage and leaving a nasty stain on whatever they touch.  I’m just spinning my dirty wheels.

Example two.  Dishwashing detergent.   Seems like a pretty innocuous item, no need for discussion, no drama, right?  Well wrong again asshole.  So I finally ran out of the Kirkland mega-pack of dishwashing detergent about two months ago.  I had bought this shit approximately 10 months ago, it’s one of those Costco mega-deals where for ten bucks you don’t have to buy detergent for a goddamn year.  So I’m back in Costco looking to resupply the fantastically huge box of detergent when to my chagrin they were out of that particular item.  The only thing they had that was in a comparable mega-size, mega-deal, box was this “environmentally friendly” dishwashing detergent.  So I think to myself…

Right brain, “Hey dude, are you fucking crazy?  Seriously – you aren’t really thinking about buying this crap are you?”

Left brain, “Well yeah man, why not?  It’s mega-sized, and it will help out the environment.  Why the hell not do our part, it’s the same fucking price anyway, so what?”

Right brain, “Well… Alright, but it just seems like this shit is gonna be all fucked up… I’m just sayin’ dude..”

And I buy it.

Well the shit totally SUCKS! The shit SUCKS SUCKS SUCKS!  It’s total garbage.  Not only does it not clean my fucking dishes but it leaves this fucked up white goddamn residue all over my shit!?!  Yeah, that’s right hippies, your products are all CRAP.  So now I’m stuck with a lifetime supply of ‘environmentally friendly’ dishwashing detergent that actually makes my fucking dishes dirtier.  Fuck you environment, fucking faggot fuck!  And me, being the goddamn cheapskate that I am to shop at fucking Costco in the first place, I won’t even get rid of the shit and go get some motherfucking Cascade with sheeting action because I don’t feel like forking out the extra cash.  Well I got my fucking revenge.  I just wash my dishes twice.  Yeah, I’m using double the amount of greenhouse gas now bitches.  Fuck you ozone layer! I’m using all kinds of double serving of petrochemicals just to clean dirty forks.  My lazy white American ass is using up all the worlds precious resources double just to clean my booze mugs and burrito plates.  Rain forest sir? Oh yes, thank you, I’ll take two… bitch!

So take this as a warning, first of all don’t EVER buy ‘environmentally friendly’ anything, and if you come over to my place expect all my glasses and dishes to be covered in a crusty white film – no that’s not bacillus anthracis, that’s just my goddamn soap.

Example three.  I’m fixing myself a delicious cup of coffee at work.  You know, that first most savory cup that really jump starts your day and puts you in a tolerable mood before your morning meeting where you learn about how you are going to be forced to be more gay, and that everything you love about your job is being adulterated (all with good intentions) by idiotic fuck-tards.  Yeah, THAT cup of coffee.  Well I’m sitting there, half-asleep, waiting for the motherfucking coffee maker to puke out the last drop.  I grab the carafe and dump hot brown glory right into my Styrofoam cup.  I grab a couple creamers, sit back down at my desk, and click open my Outlook.  Well somewhere between mission statements, and my goddamn TPS reports I ended up opening the creamer, dumping the cream into the trash, then tossing the empty container into my coffee.  I know this is totally my fault, but all I can say is ‘fuck you god.”

Example four.  New neighbors.  Now I say ‘new’ but these fags have been living there for about 8 months already.  They moved in when their mother died in the apartment, this was the one and only older woman in the building who was even slightly cool, the rest being an old abandoned gaggle of sea-hags.  I swear to Christ my whole building smells like soup.  Fucking old people.  Well this little prick moves in with his gay uncle (their actual faggottry is only assumed and not confirmed) along with their two little dogs.  Two little yappy bitch dogs.  Two little fucking annoying high-pitched barking machines.  Jesus-fucking-Christ I hate yappy dogs.  Their barking is like fingernails on the chalkboard of my soul.  I was getting my mail the other day and the dogs were barking and I guess I mumble under my breath “I’m gonna kill those fucking dogs.”  And, well, probably like most mumbling madmen I had no idea that my inner monologue was audible to other people until another one of my neighbors emerging from the stairwell says to me “yeah, those fucking dogs drive me fucking INSANE.”

So I do what any good neighbor would do, I order a dog whistle on the internet.  My plan was to just sit there in front of my condo drinking a cool beverage while I blow on that shit until the dogs drive those faggy fucks up the walls.  Well it works, I leaned against my front door frame, you know, the new super-badass one that replaced the old one that the cops smashed in a few months ago.. Sorry, that’s a whole other story… Anyway, I start blowing my whistle and the dogs start barking.  I can hear the fags chasing them around the apartment yelling “shut up, shut up”.  And for that one day I felt like a winner, but it was a fleeting victory.  I mean, it takes a fair amount of effort for me to go out and blow that fucker for 20 minutes.  It’s not like just filling up my kitchen sinks and bombing Shirley’s apartment, I mean, I gotta fucking blow on that thing.  Well I kind of gave up….  I’ve been slamming doors and shit to make significant noise around their apartment just to get the dogs crazy, but it’s totally fruitless.  Those little yapping fucks are like their babies, and everybody knows that only OTHER peoples’ children make you wanna hammer ice-picks into your ears.

So what the fuck!?  It’s like a thousand little things.  A thousand nothings.  But they grate on me, man.  They eat away at me.  Always in the back of my mind, annoying me like a half-finished tattoo.  Oh shit, look at the time, gotta go bark at the moon for Satan’s army.  I’ll be back… Happy Easter!

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