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Try not to shit yourself.

13 Sep

Friday the 13th, Fuck me.

I hate this day.

Nothing bad has ever happened to me on this day in the history of my life.

But I fear it.

I spend the entire day scurrying about like a combination battered wife and a mole that was molested as a child.

Swamp ass of epic proportions

And the entire day is just an ass clench waiting for SOMETHING to happen.

Its exhausting.

Should the day come that I get so much as a splinter on Friday the 13th, I will be vindicated and then probably shit myself to death.

I have a number of people that seem annoyingly oblivious to the danger this day offers.

I say annoyingly mainly because they make fun of my fear.

Don’t get me wrong, I think they are right, I just wish it was someone other than me was dealing with it.

Then I could make fun of it, too.

On the flipside of things, while I think they are creepy, I am not afraid of clowns.

I have contemplated for years the idea of wearing a clown suit on Friday the 13th, just as a counteracting factor.

Lets see how tough you are, motherfucker, when I come running out of the alley at you in full clown makeup, floppy shoes and piranha teeth.

And my Red Cross CPR card is up to date, by the way.

I am going to make that my Halloween costume this year.

I wonder how many people could deal with an evening of drinking combined with a piranha toothed clown who is going out of his way to freak people out.

Thats an episode of Fear Factor you don’t wanna see, trust me.

And none of that mean spirited little fantasy helps me deal with the fact that this is being written by a man who is hiding like a coward in the back of a Starbucks.

Completely out of character for this vile day, I have a bunch of shit going on.

Someone really close to me is flying out of town.

I am having a tattoo finished after work tonight.

Have I gone insane?

Possibly.

I cannot begin to describe the terror that is running thru me at the thought of someone I barely know carving into my flesh in a permanent manner today of all days.

However, if there was ever a time in my life where I am RIPE for catching a flesh eating virus, its today of all days.

As for flying, forget about it.

The person flying doesn’t care what day it is.

And thats fine, I am worrying enough for both of us.

I am glad it is not me, if it were they would be peeling my petrified corpse out of that plane when it landed.

Getting a little misty-eyed about all this, and I am afraid to fart right now for fear I would shit myself.

This is most likely the most dysfunctional, whiney thing I have ever written, but I have no choice, I have THE FEAR, and its not going away quietly. (Hunter S. Thompson spent books documenting THE FEAR, so I think this is legitimate.)

Enjoy your day.

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Posted by on September 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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