On the come up

The title is misleading. Technically, I'm in the same spot I was in yesterday, but I did write and that always makes for good times. I spent most of the day watching High School Musical 2, staring Wig Hat Zac and his T.V. dad Joe Shit the Rag Man. He's so called because he wears cheap-ass, threadbare KMart duds. You know da kine. Da Kine that if you wash them twice, the threads separate like mesh. The bastard is wearing car rags! I want to spray his chest with Armor All and wipe him across my dashboard. But I digress.

In between writing in two different screenplays ("Mixtape" and an as-yet-untitled G-rated tale), I visited my friendly neighborhood Walmart and can I just say that I am so over the freakshow? Hillbillies yelling across the store at each other like it's damned Heathrow Airport. Old Man River picking his FAHKING nose in line and he's not to be outdone by the wheelchair brigade. If there's anything that really pisses me off, it's fat fucks in motorized wheelchairs. If you have a medical condition, that's one thing. But if you have a condition that involves cheeseburgers leaping "uninvited" down your chubby throat, then tough titties. Walk it out, walk it out...

I also saw an old woman getting chewed out by a Dave Grohl lookalike. And to make matters worse, I also saw somebody who looked eerily like Shannon Hoon, lead singer from Blind Melon. Except ol' Shanny Shan Shan's been dead for the better part of a decade.

On another note, these punk-ass playhouses can eat a dick. Not mine, of course. But random penis. Why come I can't get an answer from them????!!!! MWWWWWAAHHHH!!!

I had to get that out. I'll now retire to the water closet so I can get something else out. Ca-chow!