One Night at Starbucks

So I finally did it!

I was bombing around the local Starbucks, inside an area Barnes and Noble, slurping down their acidically burnt coffee while putting ice on my wallet's balls after it had re-allocated funds for four new tires on the Truckzilla. I enjoy these cups of coffee with the headphones on, oversized numbers, of course, to ultimately discourage any conversation from members of adjacent tables that errantly float in my air space. It should have been good times, but as though life doesn't suck enough, this jones looks over at me, and starts walking in my direction.

A brief aside as ways of explanation to the ensuing events: high-school, my dear coitusers, was some time ago, and by and large a four year point that I have tried, through creative cocktails of alcohol, minor drugs and nicotine, to block out. But my existence with high-school and really college and, well, really life itself is this: They are best times left to themselves. When my ten year reunion rolled around I let the invitation fall stillborn from the letter carrier. It's not that I'm a snob... Well, yes, it is actually that I'm a snob, but in my defense I see all of the people from high school that I would want to see, so why do I need to see any more?

So this jones is approaching, and distant memories come un-compressed: a date at the Science Museum where my special lady friend ditched me for a romp in the wig-wam with some hockey player; my pants pulled down while looking through a telescope in science class, and the ensuing "action/reaction" of the slippery fart passing loudly between my buttocks; thousands of hours spent debating the merits of Xena: Warrior Princes over the Adventures of Hercules-- one show you're staring at the same chick every episode, the other you're staring at dudes, but they give you a different hotty almost ever week (I think there is some correlation between single life and marriage in there somewhere).

So jones goes [in a typical son of a bitch sort of way]: "Do I know you?"

Me [in a polite leave me the fuck alone]: "I don't think so, I'm usually pretty good with faces and names."

Jones [randomly bastardly]: "Roseville alum of 96?"

Me [while turning up the volume on my headphones]: "Sorry, no..."

Outside of being dumped or cheated on throughout my entire governmentally funded academic career, my only other real claim to fame was having a truly fucked up name. It is so egregious that it is capable of producing a wide array of insults and also is kind enough to work into many mnemonic devices so that it is as easy to remember as a soda-pop commercial.

So jones says my name with this proud look on his face, and a sickening sense fills the void like he wants to pull up a chair so we might effectively "catch-up".

Rather than allow him one mucky-from-condensation-from-his-frozen-latte finger from forming a beach head on my precious area of zen, I turn on the smile and say, "Oh, you're thinking about my cousin! I'm Mike from Mahtomedi. Ha, Ha, this sort of confusion is always happening. Wait until I tell my cousin about this!"

The exclamation point at the end of that statement seemed excessive, and as we both shook hands I couldn't help but wonder if I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew it was me...

And then I went back to wondering why I don't have any friends...

RECTAL JUSTICE !!!

After reading the Paper or watching the Local or International news I have slowly and sadly begun to accept that evil doers really don’t get what they deserve. There is a cosmic unbalance in this world and it needs to be countered and set right post haste. There needs to be a return to installing fear into the hearts of those who seek to usurped the civil liberties of law abiding citizens what could that be?

I propose that Forced Rectal Penetration be administrated to First time offenders and Juveniles as part of a rehabilitation program. I also believe that it should be a practice in interrogating people who are accused of a crime. Why torture average American Citizens you may ask?

Why not I say!

Let’s be real we Torture people accused of being terrorists, and honestly You or someone you know(heaven forbid) would sooner have a run in with an average American Degenerate then some Guy from Guantanamo Prison OR Abu Ghraib or a Communist leader or whatever else Bush had you believe harms your civil Liberties . You may disagree I say let’s try it and see what happens.

I inspire

I love New York best when I’m not doing anything ..
I am sitting outside a restaurant with a cool drink listening to a remix from Estelle, under a shaded Umbrella waiting for the waitress to bring my entrée Joining me on this Hot day in the Big Apple is Killer Smurf.
KS is not a Downtown or Uptown type of Personality and very soon I learn that it was a bad idea to invite him to have lunch with me Fucking Hippie.
The heat is downright unbearable people are crabbier then usual hell you would be too somewhere Gore is loving this but that’s not what I’m Trying to get at here.

Heat aside I for one am enjoying myself Fania All Stars begins playing and I’m reminded that the Puerto Rican day Parade will be kicking into High gear soon. My thoughts of Cuba Libres , and Mojitos are Cut short by Killer Smurf, he’s angry cause the Salad didn’t come with a tomato he starts huffing, and pouting he sits there on this glorious day forgetting the fact that he’s in a wondrous City, Beautiful Women all around literally as far as the eye can see .

Families out walking together , children eating ice cream, lovers holding hands all these things he’s missing over a tomato . I am quite glad to remind him in the most condescending tone I can muster that there is a Tomato Recall.
Veggie boy is still not satisfied.

I inspire prt2

I turn my attention away from him return to people watching . My vibe is pleasant my Chi energy is as POSITIVE as I can get and that’s saying a lot kids .( read past Blogs ) KS is just rambling on about the current Political Climate Hilary this , McCain that, Obama this … I for one don’t really care at the moment , I just want to take in the sites .
But he keeps going on and on not seeing what I’m seeing even though I point out ALL THIS WONDERMENT SURROUNDING US to him He wants to complain and requests more Brussels Sprouts for his veggie Entre I can feel the rage just bubbling to the forefront when all of the sudden my thought are cut short by someone saying .

“Jezz Son Your Fucking Up HIS VIBE .” To my surprise two Elderly ladies sitting behind me had been watching our pathetic table drama unfold they were getting up to leave from their own meal and one of them placed her hand on my shoulder and thanked me for reminding them to stop grumbling and take in the beauty of their city and with that they left their tip and walked away Rare is it that I’m known for creating Warm Fuzzys . I felt invigorated
Manhattan still inspires me .