Slingin' the Blues

It doesn't seem like I've had but five minutes to myself in the last two weeks. Finaly, here I am with some time for writing.

I went down to the river to practice whirling rocks with my sling. I made it from some parachord and duct tape. that's it. I was able to get larger-than-golfball sized rocks almost half way across the river. All the po' folks fishing on the bridge must have thought I was one crazy cracker. Although they were out of range, I'd love to show them how crazy I may truly be.

My job sucks. Oh, and did I mention that my job sucks? I've been casualy searching for another. I even picked up some applications while I was in Florida. If I move down there, I'll have to change the name of this blog but I don't think "Cocoa Beach Noir" will cut it. Sounds like a lousy cop show.

Damn holidays are fast upon us. Be sure to outdo your relatives with the expensive presents you buy. That IS the Xmas spirit, right? Be sure it looks like Martha Stewart wiped her ass with your house. Can't have the neighbors thinking they've got one on you.

I have some friends from Switzerland. One year we were sitting at the bar and some dumbfuck redneck asked them what the deal was with how they talk. "We're Swiss." Replied Fri.
"Really?" Dipshit asked, "How d'y'all do Thanks-a-givin' in Sweden?"
Is it any wonder I have no loyalty for these fukwits?