No, I’m not quoting George Bush (*rimshot*). I mean me. I can’t think for myself.
I’m pretty good at it usually. I haven’t given into crappy pop trends since I went on a popularizing bender in the sixth grade and bought both Duran Duran’s “Arena” and “Seven and the Ragged Tiger” cassettes in the same day.
I’m typically a pretty free thinker. I liked swing music before it became popular. I still like it now that it’s “like sooooo over. Gag me with a spoon” See, I even make my sarcastic quotes sound like a valley girl. And even girls who actually live in the valley don’t talk like that anymore. But I still think it’s cool. Why? Because it is? No. Because I’m trying to assert my strong sense of self, that’s why.
But now that’s all different. I can’t have an original thought anymore. It’s only a matter of time before I start admiring Paris Hilton for her “tenacity.”
It probably has something to do with the fact that I didn’t get much sleep last night. My jerk-ass neighbors were up to their old tricks. But this time they put an interesting new spin of things. Instead of starting their lewdly obnoxious behavior at around 10:30pm, they waited until about 2:00am.
Yeah, so I actually got to get some sleep before they woke me up and made me make Tanya call the cops on them. I lost just enough sleep that I didn't go to the gym this morning.
I hate them. I hate them “like sooo much. Gag me with a spoon.” Their insufferability is about to make me homicidal. And when I wake up in the morning to see their lawn and front porch littered with beer cans, I honestly want to throw a rock through their front window. And if that rock happens to hit one of them on its way through, then so be it. And if that rock happens not to be a rock but rather a sword, I wouldn’t complain. And if that sword just happens to be made out of highly a combustible and toxic substance that explodes on impact and wipes out the entire race of ass-hatted jerk fuckers that won’t let me sleep…that would be sweet.
Here’s my problem: I can think of many, many unlawful ways to get back at these dicks. But what I need is a really good way to get back at them that won’t land me on death row. Something cruel. Something fitting. Something that annoys the hell out of them.
I need your help. Do you know of anything I can do? They’re driving me crazy. We’ve called the cops about 7 times. By the time the patrol car rolls around, 4 hours later, the beer and pot have kicked in and the retards have tucked themselves into their racecar beds for the night.
I hate calling the cops. It makes me feel old.
So I just need one solid idea; an idea that will make these crap-monkeys want to move to another state.
Help me before I kill…again.
Fun Fact: I’ve looked at the usual “revenge/prank” websites. Useless.
My anger has blinded me to any really creative revenge tactics. All I can think of as I’m lying in bed, listening to some guy yell “whooohooooo!” once a minute, every minute for some inexplicable reason is, “Eggs! Eggs! I need to get my hands on like 50 dozen eggs!”
Gag me with a spoon indeed.
And, the latest TAM Cartoon is up. Incredibly edible!