Monday, June 04, 2007

...on the gas face

so as the bastard mentioned before, the boy is spending the summer with me. so, he comes to work with me. he likes coming to work with me. allthough i have to say, he's starting to wonder why my coworkers like to write about how to kill animals. i'm going to have to work that one out later on. anyway, the mofo was meeting us to ride into queens to have dinner with the rents.

now here's the situation. you have a seven year old boy who has a brand new sony psp. he drops it as he sits down on the subway. on the bench. barely grazing this gentleman who then looks at this seven year old boy with such righteous indignation, such disdain, that it makes the bastard wonder, "what the hell?" i mean, he's a little boy and you're looking at him like, "hoo boy, you see, THIS is how the MAN is trying to get over me. ya see? here's the blond haired blue eyed devil dropping his shit on me, wreckin' mah tommy hills, making a nuisance of hisself. ya see, this is mah train"

ummmm... let me interupt you there a second pal, this ain't your train this is our train. get over yourself pal. get over your bling and your posturing and get over the fact that you're giving my son the gas face.

—the bastard

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