Yeti's walk alone
One good thing about my rough Yeti bad looks is that kids are afraid of me. I bumped into a kid as I was coming out of a McDonalds a couple of weeks ago (only for a milk shake because my throat felt like I had downed a shot of napalm, I hastily add) I looked around to say sorry as this was a rare incident where it was actually my fault, and he looked like a bunny in a set of headlights. This was no mamma's boy kid, this was a proper Kevin (what Kev's 'grow out' of) the kind that throw bricks through their own windows because they've broken all the other ones, and prowl the suburbs on BMXs because they are too short to reach the peddles on any cars. He said he was sorry with tears welling in wide eyes before I snaked out the restaurant (is that a hyena I hear?) and almost tripped over his BMX.
Well this is all well and good using my looks as a weapon against the little scrotes, but that gets me angry is how people who should know better don't.
To get from my seat of education to the seat infront of my computer I must traverse about two miles of roads. I have no problems with the roads, it's the morons (in a minority but still stubbornly present) that drive on it that i have problems with. If I had a penny for everytime some guy (its always the 'men') shouted out the window 'Get your hair cut' or some kind of name, in a way in which he believes he is the king of wit, I'd be employing some body to write this. So they can shout out of a window, how funny are you? (!) I have also been spat at out of the window of a moving white van, and given the finger on more than one occasion.
Why do they feel the need to make their presence known to some person walking down the road who they have seen for a maximum total of ten seconds? Do they honestly think what they are saying is in any way original or witty? Or is that too hard a concept for that duo of brain cells? Why do they feel the need to tell ten-second-Joe what to do? All I'm trying to do is get home.
If they aren't shouting they're staring. Again its always the men so I can't trick myself into thinking "Maybe she thinks I'm good looking". Almost every car (with a male in) feels the need to stare. Again, why? I look up. They're staring back at me. In some ways this is worse. They need to get a good look at the freak show on the pavement, analyzing, instead of allowing their primeval brain to function and shout their dominance out of the window.
On the good side of things. They're are a couple of those morons out there suitably embarrassed now as they have honked their horns at a guy instead of that cute girl my back seems to resemble. That isn't the good side of things is it?
Keep your window up.
Nitey nite.
Well this is all well and good using my looks as a weapon against the little scrotes, but that gets me angry is how people who should know better don't.
To get from my seat of education to the seat infront of my computer I must traverse about two miles of roads. I have no problems with the roads, it's the morons (in a minority but still stubbornly present) that drive on it that i have problems with. If I had a penny for everytime some guy (its always the 'men') shouted out the window 'Get your hair cut' or some kind of name, in a way in which he believes he is the king of wit, I'd be employing some body to write this. So they can shout out of a window, how funny are you? (!) I have also been spat at out of the window of a moving white van, and given the finger on more than one occasion.
Why do they feel the need to make their presence known to some person walking down the road who they have seen for a maximum total of ten seconds? Do they honestly think what they are saying is in any way original or witty? Or is that too hard a concept for that duo of brain cells? Why do they feel the need to tell ten-second-Joe what to do? All I'm trying to do is get home.
If they aren't shouting they're staring. Again its always the men so I can't trick myself into thinking "Maybe she thinks I'm good looking". Almost every car (with a male in) feels the need to stare. Again, why? I look up. They're staring back at me. In some ways this is worse. They need to get a good look at the freak show on the pavement, analyzing, instead of allowing their primeval brain to function and shout their dominance out of the window.
On the good side of things. They're are a couple of those morons out there suitably embarrassed now as they have honked their horns at a guy instead of that cute girl my back seems to resemble. That isn't the good side of things is it?
Keep your window up.
Nitey nite.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home