A crazy nut was out on the scene
Man it ain't like me to dogg up and call the human police on a falterin' human but damn if today didn't make that necessary.
So there I was sittin' on the roof with my new situation, which is a tiny deck the size of a picnic table where I can code and cool it on top of the pool house in the full sun. I can see all around, including the street out front. I been down to the street and it's pretty hard to see where I am up top, so it's safe enough. Branches are obscuring it etc.
So today I'm up there and alright truth be told I'm lookin' at corsets, kind of might be a thing I'm interested in specifically, and out of the corner of my eye I see this blotto dude wandering down the sidewalk. He's human, maybe three hundred and fifty pounds (hard to tell with them), wearin' jean shorts and a hoody and a big red backpack. He's got socks on, but he's carryin' his shoes, and he ain't too sure about where the sidewalk's gonna be next time he makes a move. He even tries to see if the street is better, but it's rush hour and it's not, so he kind of makes his way down the sidewalk halfway on lawns, halfway on the curb. Rough scene, and even though he has birthday party face it's pretty clear he might do up a box truck on the undersides. He might make an acid glance at the trans-axle, if you get my inexpensive business.
Lame as hell and all Pat-style I ring up the badges and they come whisk him off. I don't know why I did it, that was hell of gripe of me. I guess that since now I live on a nice block I got zero patience with fuck ups and streetards, I'm like "well screw him because this real estate is LEET!"
Ugh I don't like what I did but also I do. I don't go stumblin' blazed in somebody else's neighborhood, and if I did, you can bet with assurance they'd cool my ass off in a prison room. Fair's fair, and the nice game never got me nowhere. So long, blazed dude, and I totally hated seeing your crevice when your shorts fell to lows.
So there I was sittin' on the roof with my new situation, which is a tiny deck the size of a picnic table where I can code and cool it on top of the pool house in the full sun. I can see all around, including the street out front. I been down to the street and it's pretty hard to see where I am up top, so it's safe enough. Branches are obscuring it etc.
So today I'm up there and alright truth be told I'm lookin' at corsets, kind of might be a thing I'm interested in specifically, and out of the corner of my eye I see this blotto dude wandering down the sidewalk. He's human, maybe three hundred and fifty pounds (hard to tell with them), wearin' jean shorts and a hoody and a big red backpack. He's got socks on, but he's carryin' his shoes, and he ain't too sure about where the sidewalk's gonna be next time he makes a move. He even tries to see if the street is better, but it's rush hour and it's not, so he kind of makes his way down the sidewalk halfway on lawns, halfway on the curb. Rough scene, and even though he has birthday party face it's pretty clear he might do up a box truck on the undersides. He might make an acid glance at the trans-axle, if you get my inexpensive business.
Lame as hell and all Pat-style I ring up the badges and they come whisk him off. I don't know why I did it, that was hell of gripe of me. I guess that since now I live on a nice block I got zero patience with fuck ups and streetards, I'm like "well screw him because this real estate is LEET!"
Ugh I don't like what I did but also I do. I don't go stumblin' blazed in somebody else's neighborhood, and if I did, you can bet with assurance they'd cool my ass off in a prison room. Fair's fair, and the nice game never got me nowhere. So long, blazed dude, and I totally hated seeing your crevice when your shorts fell to lows.
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