June 17, 2007

• Warning: not suitable for people who are not suited to read my unsuitable material.

  On my way home I waited at a bus stop for a bus that I did not intend to catch. My reasoning for being there just happened to be on a whim. For there was a man sitting on the curb picking through items in what appeared to be a woman's purse. Big black and leathery looking; if I was to be judgmental I should be one to automatically presume that the man was a thief and thus I automatically felt that I absolutely had to garrote his head into that purse. However, what if this man had some queer sense of fashion and was delivering brownies to his grandmother? Then I would be the wrongdoer and would of had no business in murdering him. Although, he did look quite shady in some sense. I need to learn to talk out to strangers about anything through persuasion and dispositional tactics, so that my conviction could be justified.

  My grandmother was once a victim of a purse snatcher and she had to redo all of her identification and crap that got stolen. Ever since its been one of my many dreams to witness a purse snatching, catch the bastard, dislocate limbs and drag him face flat on the concrete for a kilometer before I bludgeon his face into such an unrecognizable state that the coroner conducting the autopsy would not immediately be able to identify the corpse as human.

  Sometimes I wonder if I should get an alias xanga account. (According to spell-check xanga isn't even a word.)

  • 10:51 pm
  • 1 Comment