slice and dice…

"so, mr. bastard what seems to be the trouble?"

"well doc, I sliced off the tip of my finger on a mandoline"

"that's got to hurt"

"yep. and after about 45 minutes of direct pressure, I find that I'm still bleeding. so I decided that it was a good time to seek a professional on the matter"

"well you came to the right place"

"good, because I think i'd have a problem if I didn't"

so in a nutshell, the bastard sliced off a little piece of finger so I had to once again meet my neighborhood in an inconvenient way.

reminds me of the time in the fhillz when my v dub had a massive gas leak that introduced me to that hood.

only with more blood and less gasoline.

—the bastard

…on the simple things

the bastard never looks a gift horse in the mouth

wait.

scratch that.

the bastard ALWAYS looks a gift horse in the mouth.

it's a deep seated issue he needs to work on with his parole officer.

anyway it's like this.

I really like living in the liquid city.

nice view.

nice commute.

better quality of life.

but it ain't cheap.

so after almost two months of paying upwards of 24 bucks a bag every week not to mention the hefty tab for dry cleaning.…

our washing machine finally arrived and you guessed it bitches

I did me some laundry.

now if I could only get a handle on the job, everything would be easy peasy.

but that's tomorrow's problem.

hrm

wait

that's my problem in like 10 minutes now

god dammity damn

—the bastard