Posts Tagged ‘soccer ball’

Fightin’ Words

Posted: May 23, 2011 in May 2011
Tags: , ,

I don’t get into too many arguments. The last one I got into was with a friend of mine who says that I always argue with people. There was a lot of shouting and hitting. We don’t talk anymore. If you ask him, he’ll say we still do.

I was woken up this morning by a woman screaming about how she wanted to fight someone. I couldn’t make out the name, but her nickname seemed to be “Bitch.” This woman was very loud. She woke me up! She was a good hail mary away from me and her rapid fire Don Rickles insults hurled out so loudly that my slumber was ruined.

This argument lasted for a half hour. I stood in my underwear looking out of the blinds watching as she paced around her car, punching it every time an exclamation was proclaimed. There was a lot of banging. I hope she didn’t wake up the missing kid in the trunk. Kids are always cranky when you wake them up from their naps. They’re also cranky when you tell them they need to take a nap. Wow, kids suck.

I proceeded to walk the dog. After my dog took a number two, I scooped it up with a Target and a Walgreen’s bag. This gave me the brilliant idea of putting a pharmacy inside of a Target. Then I realized that those exist. I was quickly asked to leave the patent office and told “Don’t come back here until you have something that doesn’t already exist!” They yell that at me a lot. Who knew about stop signs were used? I always thought they were there to match traffic signals.

The woman stood near the dumpsters across the street from my apartment. I have a great view from my apartment. I see dumpsters and trees across a usually vacant parking lot. It’d be paradise if you group up in a 3rd world county. As I made my way to the dumpsters with a bag of dog feces, the woman’s daughter came out. To be honest, she had already come out earlier. I’m using artistic integrity here. At least, I think that’s what it’s called. I hope not. There’s no integrity in lying. Unless you admit that you’re lying. So maybe it is artistic integrity. Maybe I should just say poetic license and stop asking so many rhetorical questions. But is it really a rhetorical question if you do want an answer?

The woman’s daughter was quickly told to leave. Not long after, the yelling woman now surrounded by neighbors and maintenance men, hopped into her now dented vehicle and drove off. My guess she wasn’t driving off to feed the homeless or to massage orphans. She had finally found out where Bitch lived. She was going to throw down.

The moral of the story is similar to that of “The Little Engine That Could.” Perseverance is key. Never give up on your dreams. Even if those dreams involved pounding a bitch before brunch.