Day Seven - Here Comes the F'n Anger... Bitches!

So let me start this somewhat abbreviated post with a classic joke... [abbreviated as I dare not say things I shall regret later]

Anyhow, the joke...

Two guys are chatting in the office [OK, around the F'n water cooler if that makes you F'n happy]...

1st Guy: So, I made a freakin dandy Freudian slip last weekend.

2nd Guy: Freudian slip, what the hell is that

1st Guy: Huh, what kinda dumbass are you, you know, Freudian slip, what, OK, I was in line to get tickets for the train when I notice that the girl at the counter had the biggest set of knockers I've ever seen... I mean, I couldn't take my eyes off them

2nd Guy: And, what's this got to do with Freudian Slips

1st Guy: Shut up, I'll tell you... So anyway when I get to the counter, I could barely take my eyes of these melons. I eventually looked her straight in the eyes and instead of saying, I'd like two tickets to Pittsburgh, I blurt out "I'd like two Pickets to Titsburgh"... talk about...

2nd Guy: What?! That's what you call a Freudian Slip, shit man I had one of those just this morning.

1st Guy: Oh ya, do tell

2nd Guy: Well, I was sitting with my wife at the breakfast table this morning. What I meant to ask her was, dear, can you pass the sugar. What I actually said was, "Bitch, you ruined my life."

[rim shot... enjoy the veal]

Yes, here comes the anger bitches. Seething uncontrollable anger. Good thing everyone I know and care about either does not live here, or is out of town for the weekend [or staying at their sisters place]. Good thing the X is taking what used to be OUR car and is taking off to her parents in Shelter Island. Would love to be the fly on those walls later tonight. Would love to learn just how bad a person I have become...

I'm not going to growl over that just now... nope, I'm going to growl over something far more important. Just how fucking mad I am at myself. Specifically, just how mad I am at New York Gord. I tell you, I'm seriously thinking about calling up Art School Gord and Toronto Gord, having them come down and beat the piss out of New York Gord. I mean, how have I let New York Gord become such a F'n fool. Drunken fool, OK, but FUCK YOU bitches, Drunken Fool Gord used to be an OK guy. OK, before he let himself become a F'n pussy whipped panty waste.

Before he some how started to recede into some weird fucking comfort and allowed himself to see a series of interesting adventures/experiences pass as a life. Before he subrogated himself to someone for the sheer convenience of more easily allowing him a presence in this foreign country. Before he convinced himself that he wanted to continue the futile pantomime that has now, quite thankfully closed to really bad fucking reviews.

So, where does this anger lead... Hey, bitches if you're listening, I've been here and done all this before. Honestly, in a way this seems like a pale repeat, it really is just a modern day Hollywood Knock off of a far better movie, classic movie that was originally released in the early 90's... Kinda the Oceans Twelve version of the really serious crap that unfolded... well, anyhow, who the fuck cares...

Where does this anger lead... It leads right back to where I am now. As with everything else, I'll get over this. Hopefully I'll be a better drunk, and hopefully I will not piss off too many friends, and hopefully I won't be completely alone. I really can't wait until Toronto Gord and Art School Gord get down here to hang that beating on me. Hey, maybe they'll beat the Greenpoint outta New York Gord, and New York Gord could move on to something completely new.

Who the FUCK Knows!

Now it's off to Mineta's in the Village for some good ol' gangsta italiano. Hey, maybe I'll get lucky, piss off a piasano and get a good ol' pistol whippin.

Peace and Love Bitches, Peace and Love