2003-08-12 - 10:37 a.m.
dear diary,
another friend died this weekend. am i getting old or is the world just getting scarier?
i'll have plenty of time to talk about it in therapy tomorrow, i'm sure.
what i really wanted to talk about today, was how much pay day loan places suck a bag of dicks. [I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU MR MONEY, POPULAR IN IOWA, ILLINOIS, MISSOURI AND WISCONSIN. I HATE YOU! BAG OF DICKS! EAT A BAG OF DICKS!]
i waited in line yesterday to pay off my payday loan so i could BORROW ANOTHER PAYDAY LOAN. and this is why mr money owns stock on my soul. it's this cycle you can't get out of. 200 bucks there, 300 here. [insert poor sigh]
the line was long in the store because at the front of the line, was somebody's grandpa. he had hearing aids. he had saggy baby blue creased trousers [they weren't even pants, they were full on trousers]. he had white whispy fading combover hair, eyes that were glazed over in a prune juice induced guzzling i'm sure, and fingernails that were stained yellow. that's what happens when you're 300 years old.
your fingernails turn yellow.
you know how people complain about old people smell? that's the smell of rotting flesh. see, your body dies before your brain does. take note, children. it is important to kill yourself BEFORE flesh-rot sets in. it's just proper etiquette.
anyway, grandpa was exchanging a SHOTGUN for some money and the man behind the counter was telling grandpa that he would have to run a background check before he could give the shotgun back. he asked grandpa if he understood. i think he nodded, it's so hard to tell with old people.
shut up diary, i told you i was an agist like nine episodes ago.
i don't really know why there are ten ziploc bags full of generically fried chicken in my refridgerator.
or why the pitbull licking my left elbow smells like peppermint.
peppermint!