Business Up Front, Rants in the Back
The title says it all. First, I have to apologize for last week. Something screwy must have went on with the site and somehow my blog did not get posted. No worries, TOPTM carried on without me.
For those who wish to know, my blog last week would have been about how Chris, Cory, Gina, Jack and I all participated in the Making Strides for a Cure breast cancer walk in Point Pleasant, NJ. We raised $225 of our own money, even if our attempts to solicit donations from our fans and friends via Facebook failed. The walk went well, aside from a few jeers from some unfriendly members of another group. Yea, you read right. People from another group were making comments about us loud enough so we could hear. Seriously, this a walk to help raise money for cancer research, not a fucking competition. Get over yourself. It really didn’t matter, however, because I just turned up The Metal so it drowned out all weaker noises.
With that out of the way, let me give you the latest list of people who need sudden hit and run accidents to happen to them:
- To the old woman walking around my apartment complex: go fall off your balcony. I am not my dog’s “daddy” and I, unlike other miscreants around here, will actually pick up after her when she’s done defecating; without you having to tell me. Instead of patrolling the complex like some geriatric super zero, go play with your unexciting garden out front. I hear plants grow better when you use animal based fertilizer.
- To the downstairs neighbor that moved out: it wasn’t the mold, was it? It was us. You couldn’t stand the fact that I make my wife scream during sex, so you up and moved your shit. Admit it. That, or the fact that I actually have friends come over and have an enjoyable time with them, much to your displeasure.
- To the assholes who drives 10 under the speed limit in the passing lane: I have things to do and places to go; tailgating you is neither. Get out of my way or I will continue to ride your ass. And not pull your hair. Wouldn’t want to anyway, you trailer hoe.
- To the clueless, annoying customer: RTFM, or, in this case, the brochure I hand you. Also, listen to me when I tell you shit. It may help you avoid calling me after my work day is done just so you can sound like an idiot.
That about it for now folks. I’ve got to go drool over the new Batman game.