unnecessaryz

Survival of the Fittest = Shut Your Fucking Mouth

I seem to remember a time - not too long ago - when it wasn't safe for frail, old, or out of shape people to say whatever they felt like saying to anyone who looked like they might be capable of causing mild to immense damage to their pie filled bodies. I also seem to remember reading somewhere that it took a lot more than a bitchy attitude to stop a knife from penetrating your skin, which was always a possibility during the time I'm thinking of.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm such an intimidating force that I could walk unimpeded through life with nothing but menacingly arched eyebrows, but I sure as hell thought that a good rule of thumb for old ladies to follow was "maintain little to no actual contact with scowling tattooed guys".

I was riding on the train on the way to my girlfriend's birthday party (more on that later) with a bouquet of flowers. Now I'm willing to believe that the flowers may have thrown some people off from the fact that I have gained incredible abilities by watching movies with the word 'kickboxer' in the title, but still.

The frail woman in question decides that the narrow gap between myself and a sleeping fat guy is the place to be, so she wedges herself in there like a sperm risking it all for the top spot. I do my best to accommodate her by moving over as far into the fat person next to me as I can. As soon as the obviously sex-starved old hag settles in, she looks over and says, without irony "Is that the best you can do?" All I could think to say in response to such an unprompted verbal crotch kick was "No, you're right. This is." while moving in a little closer to her.

To her credit, she stayed like that for two stops until she finally moved across from me into the open seat any normal person would have chosen. After that, she spends the next three minutes looking from my flowers to me with the most punchable look of disdain I have ever seen on a face. Not willing to play host to such a pathetic attempt at superiority, I ask what her fucking problem is. In a way that suggests to me that she had been rehersing it for the last two minutes, she says "I just hope that whatever girl is getting those flowers treats you the same way you're treating me right now." I ingeniusly respond with "How am I treating you so badly? By not moving to the back of the train? And who says these flowers are for a girl?" Ah, a gay twist. Now I can make the rest of the train feel uncomfortable. Boo-ya!

So she says "Well, boyfriend, whatever. The point is..."

"...you need to laid!" Simple. Childish. Totally effective. She shuts up. I one up it by looking at the guy next to her and saying "Am I right or what?!"

As I'm getting off the train, a couple getting off at the same stop passes the destroyed croan and says something to her. From the 'fuck you' look the bitch gave her, I assumed the couple was siding with me, which I felt was awesome but unnecessary. As I'm walking up the stairs slightly in front of the couple, I hear something about the situation that suggests otherwise. I stop in front of them, causing her boyfriend to run into me, and I say "Do you have a fucking problem too?"

She says "Yes I do! I hate men who can't close their legs on the train!"

I say "Well, I might have been more inclined to do that if it wasn't for that sterile bitch's completely wrong approach to getting on my good side. As a matter of fact...!"

Just as I say that, we reach the top of the stairs and the guy takes this as a cue to grab her by the arm and get her the fuck out of there. He may have done this because of the look in my eye, which men recognize as "The only way I'm going to get this bitch to shut the fuck up is if I start choking YOU!"

That's when I decided that maybe living in a safe NY isn't always a good thing. Mainly because people like that would know their place in society, which is to supply criminals with cash after drawing too much attention to themselves.

But the party was great for helping release the gallons of unchecked aggression welling up in my damned soul. I started by letting some guy named Jim fuck my liver in the ass. After that, I was in the perfect state of mind for someone who would think a tie made out of a plastic bag would look cool.


Then I tried to use my Deral-ict style to seduce my friend waxangel.



Then I tried to convince luna to spend the night in my arms with a promise of smoked bacon in the morning.



I probably could have laid off my near perfect description of the delicious bacon since both of us ended up throwing up ten minutes after the photo was taken.