Things still ain’t right: The Bus Edition
If your child is big enough to grab the oatmeal off the top shelf at the grocery store for you, then you shouldn’t have his/her big ass in a stroller. Parents, you’re killin’ me with that. Please stop. If your snot-slurper is old enough to run away from you when you try to spank him, then he’s old enough to NOT have a Cosco chariot. Take the stroller away from Yao Ming and let him go out and earn something that can hold both of you. A car.
An old lady in the post office yesterday tried to get in front of me in line. She said that she was the next one in line. Funny, I didn’t see her in line, and I have four eyes. In fact, when the clerk called “Next!”, this lady was nowhere to be found. She was making a big scene so I told her brittle ass to go ahead. I wanted to push her down and kick her in the ribcage. So I did. Nah, just playing. I didn’t push her down.
Recently, I saw the aftermath of a hit and run accident. Being the only one on the bus besides the driver, it was an eerie and sad sight. A pedestrian died. As the cops taped off the perimeter, we passed the scene. Not being able to believe that he was actually witnessing what he was seeing, the driver burst out into sadistic laughter. Not cool. At this point, I was extremely anxious to get off the bus. Seconds later, I got off at my stop. Good thing I did. The driver drove for about 100 feet before the ground opened up and sucked him into hell. Wonder if he’s still laughing.
One night, I got to my apartment building and I saw a flyer on the wall. It’s a wanted poster for a man that’s been assaulting people and breaking into apartments in the area. This guy’s description: black male, 6 feet tall, 200+ pounds, shaved head, glasses, last seen wearing black jeans, a black shirt, and black shoes. I stare at the poster. I happen to be wearing all black at that precise moment. The other features sounds just like me, too. Just then two security officers come up behind me…
I saw a Greyhound bus that was moving so slow that the greyhound on the side of the bus was actually rolled over on its back, dead.
Due to some crazy circumstances, the other day I was on a charter bus with about 55 Filipino octogenarians. That’s it. No punchline here. It was what it was.
When I was about 6 or 7, my family and I went to see Santa Claus at the local town shopping center. Sitting on Santa’s lap, I remember him slurring his words and smelling like three fellas that I didn’t know at the time, the Three J’s: Jim (Beam), Johnny (Walker) and Jack (Daniels). Unbeknownst to me, from that point on, I would subconsciously associate the smell of alcohol with sitting on people’s laps. Later in life when I thought about it, I laughed at myself. It was funny…until I realized the power that I now possessed. Power of persuasion. To make a long story less long, I thought that I’d give it a try….you know…(wiggling eyebrows) see if I could use the influence of liquor to “persuade” certain members of the opposing gender to think of me as their friendly, neighborhood Santa Claus guyfellacatdudebrothaman. Well….it doesn’t work. Got scars to prove it.
Back in the 6th grade, I had a funny teacher. He had gall bladder surgery; brought his gall stones to class, floating in formaldehyde in a big Mason jar; and put the jar on his desk so we all could see them. He would have the class rollin’ with his jokes after recess. He was our grandfather figure of the 6th grade. He was nice. He was kind. He was also a Vietnam Vet suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. So one Thursday, this kid in class wouldn’t shut up. The teacher told him to simmer down. The kid was defiant…and stupid. The teacher freaked out, let out a yelp like a dog does when you step on its tail, grabbed his key ring (which had nearly 20 keys on it), and hurled it at the boy. Hit him dead in the chest. The impact was enough to knock the boy (who was already leaning in his chair) out of his seat and onto the floor. Another kid across the room started laughing hysterically. The teacher didn’t like that either. That student ended up with a mouthful of chalky eraser. I’ve never met anybody with aim like that since.
Think Ink|Thinq Inq 