Ok, the last month or so in hate...

[Reads with Scotch]

The woes of habitual animals: I am a creature of habit. I go to the same gas station, the same grocery store, at the same time every time. I have always liked the certainty of it before, but now... Now the clerk at the gas station knows me. I wonder if she thinks she is being polite or something. Always with the small talk this one... Oh I've always wanted a jeep, and Oh I love those too, and must be driving a lot this is the second time this week you got gas... WTF. why are you keeping tabs on me, and why do you want me to know you know? I think I will have to plan on your untimely demise if you keep up this Dick Tracy bit bitch.

Assholes in fast food:

I hate fast food... I should have never gone yesterday, but I felt the urge for some artery clogging nasty. Big mistake. Not only are people that regular these places retarded, but so is the staff. I used the drive thru... it was one of those two lane deals, alternating between the two ordering stations you know. one car orders in one lane, then it is the other lanes turn.... well after I order the guy in the other lane cut me off, thus fucking up the rotation, and putting everyone's order off by one. And he fucking knew it. My order was for 7.40 something; he on the other hand must have been ordering for a construction crew or something because his order was for 60 something. To clarify that means after he cut me off- just to be an asshole or just because he is retarded- he paid 7 something knowing damn well that something was out of kilter. Then played stupid later when everything was all fucked up. I could hear him bitching to the drive-thru kid that this isn't what he ordered and there "should be fucking more" blah blah blah. I told the kid at the first window that the guy in front of me jumped line and so paid for my meal and so was getting my meal instead of his own order. This ruined the kids life, he couldn't process the complexity of the situation so referred to his equally retarded manager. For 40 fucking minutes I was trapped in a drive-thru lane surrounded by fucking retards! No way to leave, no way to escape. I've learned my lesson universe... no more fast food for this guy. That shit will make you stupid.

Growing old, or growing up:

Ive been thinking about death a lot lately. Not in the hypochondriac sort of way. I've been considering what type of life insurance to get. I'm certain to die long before my wife (lately she would probably hope for sooner then later) so I just think it is fair after all she has dealt with living with me- to live the plush life once I'm gone. I told her as much and she got pissed off?!? I don't get it.

I still really don't want a kid... of either gender, and she has still changed her mind on the subject. Oh our conversations are so fun now. awkward dinners with friends. Great.Love it. I'm staying at home from now on.

[[deleted user]]

Have a kid, Nick! It'll increase your powers of hate. Nothing is more dangerous than a bear protecting its young.

I started to type stuff about how gross fast food meat is, but everyone knows, already, right? Hint: fecal stew.

[Reads with Scotch]

P.S. and my fucking food was cold by the time I got it... ever try to eat cold fries?

[Reads with Scotch]

No kid.

[[deleted user]]

I'm not a big fan of fries, anyway.

[Harry]

Just had a Quarter Pounder with Cheese meal and I love my kids.

[Reads with Scotch]

Yeah... And? you're a retarded pussy... Nobody even knows your name. Or initial or something.


But you do dig lightn'n Hopkins so there is that to consider.

[Rusty]

Montambeau wrote: "Have a kid, Nick! It'll increase your powers of hate. Nothing is more dangerous than a bear protecting its young.

I started to type stuff about how gross fast food meat is, but everyone knows, alr..."

I always order the fecal stew at Wendy's. It is fan fricking tastic.

[Harry]

Servius Heiner wrote: "Yeah... And? you're a retarded pussy... Nobody even knows your name. Or initial or something."

So sweet. You really do care. I'll tell you anything over a good medium rare delivery room smelling steak. You just need to ask.

[Reads with Scotch]

promises.