Wednesday, November 16
I think my cells went through a genetic mutation that has happened for the worse. I used to never get cranky from lack of sleep and now all of a sudden I'm like Denis Leary with a communist flagpole cemented up his ass. That is, if there isn't already one way up there. But if there is, then Gwar just rode one of those gnarly new high-tech japanese trains into his ass along with the communist flagpole. I'm even starting to get headaches, some other thing that used to be considered foreign to my body. Today was just fine and school was just fine and my mom's just fine but my sister and dad tend to set me off when my mom isn't. My sister keeps a television running on some fucking lame cartoon/kids network in whichever room she's in and blasts it and when I'm tired it gives me throbbing headshits. The house is a ranch house so you could hear everything loud and clear from the bedrooms. No one fucking wants headaches. On some occasions when she watches the tube while I'm in the same room, I take the remote or go up to the TV set and turn the volume lower to a level that wouldn't give me Pete Townsend ears in the future. For a fucking eleven year old she still doesn't get that I hate her TV habits and continues, at other times, to watch TV for twenty-four hours a day with the volume practically half fucking way to its maximum capacity.
I've told my mom about this many a time, but she said I should just let it go and let the fucking girl grow out of it, as opposed to ruining her happy childhood. Something within the borders of that. She said the wise thing to do was to keep quiet. I do for 96% of the time, but I can tell that my sister still has no fucking clue or has showed any signs of growing out this fucking habit, nor does she have or has shown any respect for others' feelings; Which is what really counts in my view. It's fucking rude to barge into a room while two people are deep in conversation and suddenly turn on the TV to the volume of something to show off how "fabulous" your preferred television shows are, is as horrible as a KISS concert, therefore disrupting the conversationalists' tenacity. Keeping quiet is certainly a correct thing to do, but when the person continues to show no progress at all to a certain length, the only natural thing is to get really fucking frustrated.
Quite a few times I have told her that it's fucking rude to do that, and she starts getting giggly like it's something cute to do and that she has a right to do it. Oftentimes, when I'd be talking to my mom about something pretty awesome, the sister, in front of the fucking TV, would turn the volume up even higher, hoping so that we'd hear what the hell is going on on some shit like that piece of yellow shit that we use to wipe off our kitchen countertops. At a time like this, do you really think me or my mother would give a shit about what's on the TV?
Lately I'd really been trying hard to do better in my grades because my mom said that if I continued to suck balls, I'd have to quit my job. That would put me in a bad position because she also said I had to start paying for my own clothes and car and college, and in a nutshell, take responsibility for myself. Well it's pretty fucking difficult to do schoolwork when something so agitating could not be muffled out no matter how many doors you shut or how many complaints you file. But then again, life's not supposed to be easy so I should shut the fuck up.
As the year goes on and on, every new day that I walk home from school, I see more and more people staring at me. It is quite uncomfortable and had I been in my shit-kicking mood these past couple days, would've shit-kicked every single staring motherfucker in the fucking face. Yeah, man. Yesterday, the same short, fat, hispanic woman that had been staring me down like me at a Ripley's Believe or Not museum, was standing at her usual spot on the corner of the street, waiting for her son's bus to come. As I was crossing the street onto my street (the streetcorner that she was stands on) she watched me like I was a boxer-wearing, pot-smoking, mullet-rocking redneck on COPS. I wanted to spread my arms out and yell at her, "What the fuck are you staring at, bitch?" But I didn't, because then I remembered how good Taco Bell and Qdoba was.
And then only three houses down our street, there was a boy standing inside a stormdoor who was observing me also. I wanted to shoot that door down and hit him with a rock blaster.
Today, while I was walking and talking on my phone, I had to walk past this house that was being rennovated by more chunky, hispanic but this time - men. The whole group who was working on the house was standing along the curb on a break and some even in the street, fucking checked me out from top to bottom as I walked by. Them and their shitful horny looks in their eyes and stupid obnoxious sound effects and yells. It's pretty fucking disgusting. And I constantly asked to myself in my mind, "Why couldn't they be tall, studly irishmen with five o'clock shadows with rips in the ass part of their jeans who don't talk useless shit everytime a person walks by?" Not fucking cool, man.
However, I did make one conclusion about the homeowner of the house that was being rennovated: they're fucking cheap bastards.
I have just realized that this is another very important reason why I should start the process of getting my license; So that I could slap on aviators, wearing a black t-shirt and fucked up jeans with harness boots, blast Aerosmith and Foghat, and using the steering wheel with my right hand and my left forearm and elbow resting on the open window and running over any fucktard who attempts to stare at me for the wrong reasons with my black four fucking thousand horsepower
1970 Dodge Charger. Eat my metal, shithead.
And a Chuck Norris picture just for kicks.
