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Today’s Fuck You Goes to…. HEROIN! (And home invasions)

January 4, 2014

(I warned you that 2014 would be the year of “fuck you.”)

I woke up to find out that ANOTHER good friend of mine died of a heroin overdose. WTF?

There’s this thought in the back of my mind that says, “Hmmm… maybe I am hanging out with the wrong people.” But I know that’s not the case. My friends range from high school dropouts to PhDs. The truth is that I haven’t seen either of the two friends in quite some time, in the most recent case because my friend sided with an ex during an epic battle between the ex and a good friend of mine. And of course, let’s be real, I don’t leave the house all that often to hang with anyone these days.

I wish I could get angrier than I am. I feel a lot of emotion, but I’m not sure I can express any of it.

I also woke up to find that there are MORE home invasions happening on my street. Three last week, and then this morning, my neighbor found someone on her porch. She scared him away, and he came to my next door neighbor’s house. WTF?! He was on her porch in broad daylight and walked off with a bag of rocksalt. She came out the door and asked what the hell he was doing with her salt, and received some BS story, but he gave the salt back. I love that my five foot nothing badass neighbor confronted the guy. I am more than a little freaked out, though, that he then proceeded to calmly cross the street and scope out my next door neighbor’s place.

Am I in the twilight zone?

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I keep a machete at my front door and why I let my pit bull bark like a motherfucker at every last person he sees. Perhaps this also justifies my having started sleeping on the couch.

And finally, while I’ve typed all this, my pit bull drank my fucking latte and my other dog ate the putty weather stripping I put on my doors.

Definitely the twilight zone: comedy of errors.

  1. You are too funny! I know perhaps you were not trying to be funny but you have that wry type of writing that tends to tickle me. It is ironic about this guy you write of. What a bold Mother fucker! As for the machette, If I could get my hands on one I would but alas I couldn’t find one at the local thrift store so I have a bat by my bed. Plus I don’t have a lot of money but if I did I would have guns and lots of knives hidden all over the house. I live with my mom and she thinks the fact I want a gun in the house and a knife to strap to my leg when I go out is obsurd. But hey we live in a bad neighborhood and who knows when the world will go to shit and I will need a gun and a knife. I suppose it would help if I would stop reading all the books about the end of the world and Zombies. But hey you may think I am a crazy loon but I like to be prepared. 🙂

    • Ha – incidentally, my father gave me the machete in my Christmas stocking a few years ago, which probably tells you something about the oddness factor of my family.Turns out, they sell the things wicked cheap at a hardware store in town. My mum doesn’t find my keeping a machete at my door amusing. My mum thinks I ought to sleep with a taser. My dad says to get a shotgun.

      I told him that while I am a wicked good shot (I spent a lot of time over the summers at university shooting skeet), the fact that I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time makes owning a gun an impracticality.

      I think, though, that if I start going back to the range and have people randomly yell at me while I’m shooting, I can improve my handicap. I suspect such tactics are highly frowned upon at the range, however.

      And thank you for the compliment – there is always some sort of humour in what I create, whether it’s fiction, reality, or some hodgepodge of the two.

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