You know who pisses me off? Stupid people who don't get the hell out of the way when I'm jogging through my neighborhood. I really don't think it's asking too much that people other than me attempt to be aware of their surroundings when they're weaving erratically back and forth across the sidewalk. I'm not saying that I shouldn't be watching out for them, either-I should, and I am, and in fact I couldn't be more careful unless I developed the psychic ability to predict absolutely which direction they are suddenly and unquestionably going to veer as soon as I get within a second's time of their body-but I think a little healthy perspective would help them immeasurably in all facets of daily life.
Seriously. The next time someone suddenly ambles out onto the sidewalk, ten feet ahead of me, wobbling first to the right, then correcting left, then drifting back to the right, then suddenly and sharply stepping to the left, I'm just going to run right the fuck into them and hope that the resulting concussion teaches them a lesson about having some consideration and maybe a little fucking direction. I mean, is it so hard to choose a single path and go with it? What's so intoxicating about a four foot expanse of concrete that a person would be unable to commit themselves to walking on it in a straight line, for fear that they might miss out on some heady, life-altering experience they might enjoy if they were just five inches or so to the left?
Also, I'm not exactly the Stealth Bomber, here. It's not like I come flying through on a whisper like fucking Batman or something. I'm clopping and panting and wheezing and jingling my keys and crunching on leaves and twigs and shit, and I firmly believe that if someone is still honestly taken by surprise when I practically cartwheel past them through the five-inch sliver of space they left me after their sudden and unannounced head-fake-to-the-left-and-dodge-right walking maneuver, they are clearly inconsiderate of their surroundings to the point of no longer deserving sympathy. Furthermore, I reject and denounce all epithets hurled after my person by these cockholes, because it betrays in them one of the single most odious qualities a human can possess: entitlement.
If a person honestly believes him- or herself to be so important as to preclude them from the burdensome responsibility of looking both ways before jumping out onto the sidewalk, or even having to be conscientious of sharing said sidewalk with other living organisms, they are going to HELL. They are going to a deep, dark, stinky, fiery corner of the infernal abyss. But not the deepest, darkest, or stinkiest, though. Oh no!
Far be it from to me to spread any love to these cretins, but they at least have the (quasi) excuse of claiming that they had their backs to me and couldn't see me coming when they cut right into my path on a whim when I had no reaction time to correct my course. The most foul and crematory corner of hell is reserved for those aberrant trick babies who see me coming from twenty-five, thirty feet away and make a point not to budge from the center of the sidewalk, proving their mothers mated with a horned beast on a bed of nails during the black Sabbath. What is WRONG with people like that? What in the hell did their parents/guardians/keepers teach them, if not manners or at least the safety precaution of cleaving to the right side of the road? Do these people WANT to get hit? Because next time, I'm budging either! I will play chicken with a sour-faced old woman who doesn't feel the need to respect other people! I will knock that old bag down on her ass if she honestly expects me to duck out into the street and get run over because she can't be troubled to take two and a half steps to one side or the other and politely make way! I will kick her right between her evil eyes if she shoots daggers at me when I blow past her, because if she doesn't have to respect me then, damn it all, I don't have to respect her!
It's possible I have some rage issues to work out. I guess the bottom line is that maybe you shouldn't go walking in my neighborhood unless you're prepared for an unceremonious ass-whooping. I need to lie down.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: �smuggling raisins� I'm Watching: Passions. I'm conflicted, because I want Sheridan to get the proof that Marty is her son, but I don't want anything to happen to Beth's badass, crazy, scheming, backstabbing, murderous-clown-dressing-up-as self! And: Dark City, and noticing for the first time that Melissa George is in the cast. Who knew?