"I'm Back, Baby!"

I feel more like myself than ever before...all it took was a new "do" and a fifth of some odd liquor,clear in substance, mixed with a delightful substance they call, seven. I miss Seinfeld. I hated and loved George, I believe that was the goal...efficient writing you magnificent bastard. I feel alive again. Drunk, but very much alive. I improved on my physical self, spent time appreciating that new version, kicking some serious ass, and than drowning it in beautiful forgotten bliss of the new age...vodka. I spent four hours today beating on a man who was wrapped in tons o' padding but relentlessly coming at me with vigor. It was the most empowering thing I have ever experienced. All I want to do is take that knowledge, priceless though somehow costing an arm and a leg, and reap it on some purely suspecting victim. I met two tonight. One brown guy asked me if I required a ride. I politely turned him down, as is our ever so cordial Canadian and womanly nature, only to have the fuckface follow my progress and inquire again later down the road. I lost it, "embiggened", (those of you who know me will get this one), with the ability to level a dude twice my size, I threw down like I use to during the old E-Town days, I screamed, swore, and wrote down his fucking licence plate. As the night progressed, another gentlemen(term I reserve for those lacking everything resembling this word), inquired as to my transportation as I was hoofing it. I stated rather clearly of my intent to pepper spray him and shouted his own plate back to him to alert him to my serious distaste of his awful and not so coded methods. I will not ever be a victim. In fact, upon my entry into my abode, I screamed, "I WILL NEVER BE A VICTIM AGAIN!" ....mouth full of two dollar pizza and all. I feel instilled with energy once more. I am no longer afraid, cautious, you bet...but the fear has been replaced by something so much more tasteful, assuredness. I don't get even, I get stabby. My power has returned, look out you late night creepy fucks, there is indeed something worse prowling around other than the law, and now I know my way around it...Side note: Not reacting but willing to act if the need ever arises...for mummers sake...

Bean Sprouts???

I have never been a fan. They have a supremely odd texture, their taste leaves something quite to be desired, they do not become nicer when cooked and they carry serious consequences for the well being of unborn children. They are potential baby killers people...I'd steer clear. Any type of sprout possessing such undesirable qualities should best be left alone, forgotten by society, and left to the asians...so many asians. Anyhow, this entry is not designed to hate on an entire race, religion or faction of humanity...just three girls who are brain damaged. That must be the reason, right? Three pushy, entitled, obscenely rude bitches who need to thus give their head a shake or two...til either the brain damage is righted or they destroy their ability to speak and rub off on society their unbelievable ways. What is missing from their lives that not garnishing their meals with baby killers sends them into a rage so nasty that I am left shocked and confused, hovering over a wok system wondering when courtesy has abandoned our society. What is missing from mine that I lose sleep over these super cunts? Perhaps their lives are just that full of greatness and harmony that the lack of bean sprouts became too much to bear. If you cannot endure the fact that there shan't be garnish on your meal and this sends you into a tirade of epic and confusing proportions, how must the rest of your day unfold? Do you treat all others in this manner, or just those you deem lower on the social totem pole than you? I have never treated anyone serving me so rudely, especially when the preparation of food is involved. Did your parents teach you this? Or, do you feel empowered to be horrible to others just in that circle of friends? I despise the fact that I am still required to be kind and generous to those who spit in or on my face because that's what I get paid to do. Well, it isn't, but our society seems to think that wanting what you want when you want it, and then receiving it promptly with perfection is the road to happiness and content. I regret to inform you once and for all, we are so far off the right path, we're starving and stumbling through brambles so high and prickly, our blood trail will be the only way in which to find us. I miss that about where I grew up. Everyone may know your business, but to your face manners run rampant. Of course there is an expectation for you to perform a fine task in your occupation, but none so high as the one you've placed on yourself. I am extremely hard on myself and my work ethic shows that...how dare you attempt to mess with that and embarrass me with your cowardice. These children were not spanked, it's time the wooden spoon was brought back into the home and utilized on wayward youths who refuse to adopt the simple human principles of respect and civility. It's truly astonishing how a very centralized group of people can eliminate any sense of positivity I had stirring in a single moment of caustic verbalization...maybe I need to use the spoon on myself...no vacancy and what not.