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On An Off Day by Ray Printer Friendly

Against my better judgment, I went out this weekend. Not out to a club or a bar, or any safe place like that. I went out shopping. I was tricked out of my home with the promise of comic books and DVDs. An offer I couldn’t refuse, so to speak.

I got my comic books, but they came at a price. And I don’t mean cover price, either. It was my own fault, really. The plan was, we were to go to the book store and get a reward for me, then we were to finish off clothes shopping for my princess.

At the book store, she decided that instead of getting more clothes, she could do with a book. We made our purchases and returned home. Among my purchases were two Batman graphic novels written and drawn by Frank Miller.

I had heard great things about these comics and decided to check them out. I got through the first one and realized that I am not a Frank Miller fan. Not where Batman is concerned, anyway. Didn’t like the story, despised the artwork, and decided to take the two books back.

So that was my plan for today. But things went wrong: instead of just taking back my books and coming home, I decided to venture out and do a little grocery shopping while I was out. And while I’m out, anyways, I might as well stop by the Half Price Books down the street, right?

Wrong. I realize as I approach that the Half Price Books that I have been going to since I moved here is closed—changing locations, actually. Further away, of course. No problem, though, there’s another just a bit further, so we decided to go there.

My princess is with me through this, by the way—payback for me sitting next to the dressing room for hours on Friday.

We get to the bookstore, and it’s filled with fat people and stinky hippies. I mean filled. See, this is the problem with living in Austin: anything cool you try to do, there’s already about a million college students of hippies already doing it. And they don’t bathe.

The hippies and college students were almost expected, but I don’t know what the fatties were all doing. Maybe there was a big sale on cookbooks, I don’t know. As I think we all know, I am not a small man. In fact, you might go so far as to say that I’m a fat man—the little children that point and laugh sure do. But the people I saw at the book store today made me look anorexic. The fatties did, I mean, not the hippies. The hippies and college students just made me look like an obsessive-compulsive bather, what with all of their body odor and ratty hair and scum-encrusted sandals. Jerks. They just made me look clean and like a respectable member of society. It was the fat people that made me look anorexic.

I saw this one lady, her bosoms were so big that I said excuse me twice before I realized she hadn’t passed by. Her belly looked like a levitating beanbag chair that would hold an entire first-grade class for story time. Her face looked like she was stashing the entire produce aisle of the grocery store in her cheeks for winter. I wanted to take her to the frozen planet of Hoth just so I could cut her open and climb inside her to stay warm, and then invite some friends over for movie night.

It was out of control.

To make matters worse, I couldn’t find any good books to buy. I had dropped off a bag of old books to sale, though, so I had to stick around until they had my offer ready. My princess got bored of all the hippy sweat and decided to go next door to Goodwill, where it didn’t smell so bad.

I joined her as soon as I got my money for the books, and upon entering Goodwill, I saw a few shelves of books. I walked over, not really expecting to find anything good, what with Half Price right next door. Much to my surprise, I found a few handfuls of books in a matter of seconds.

Ah-ha! My day was looking up! But then, not too much. Because when we got to the grocery store, it was packed. Not packed with behemoths, hippies, or college students, granted. But still packed. In case you’re new to this website, you should know that I generally detest people. I feel that most of them are here to irritate me. Chances are, if you aren’t making me laugh or giving me head, you’re irritating me. So, yeah, if you were ever wondering how you rate on my personal scale, you only have to ask yourself two questions: Do I make him laugh? Am I sucking him off?

If the answer is no to both of those questions, you should probably get away from me before you push me over the edge. I’m serious, man—I could snap at any moment, and it will more than likely be bloody. Do you really want to risk being the straw that broke the camel’s back?

We fought our way through the crowd at the grocery store, got our goods, and managed to get out of the parking lot without killing anyone or getting killed, which considering what kind of day it was, was something of a victory.

We got home, had some supper, and watched a re-run of The Simpsons. It wasn’t even all that bad. I came out to my computer to get some writing done and realized that I didn’t have any internet action going on.

My computer tells me that I have all kinds of speed, and that my connection is “excellent,” but apparently none of that matters. What matters is that Time-Warner is shit. You pay for “high speed internet,” but the definition of high speed is debatable, I guess.

See, when I think of high speed internet, I’m thinking of how you click on your icon and the screen is suddenly filled all to shit with the world wide web, and you can click through web pages as fast as you can click through channels on a television.

When the jackoffs at Time-Warner think high speed, they think words like, “temporary,” and “occasional,” and “I like eat poo.”

That’s right, Time-Warner—I say you all enjoy eating feces. Probably your own, but I’m guessing you also indulge in eating the feces of others. Perhaps even animal feces—most likely, it would be that of a canine, since that would probably be some of the easiest to attain.

Quit fucking around with my internet, stupid shit eaters!

Anyways, so it hasn’t really been a bad day, really…just sort of an off day. Things aren’t going terribly wrong, but they aren’t really going right, either.

Oh, my internet connection is up and running for the moment, so I better get this tossed up before it crashes again.

‘Night, Li’l Homies.


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