It's Sunday, and even Bambi gets a day off. Besides, all you are gonna find for news today is fluff-crap and artsy-fartsy shit that people only pretend to give a rat's ass about. I would never leave ya in the lurch though. It's time for a few profound fucking words from that 'cute bartardo' Dillinger Flaikwaiter, a man with many hats and all of them just a bit to goddamned tight. Amen and Amen!
To crap or not to crap: that is the question. Really our world today is full of thank-you, thank-you, did you enjoy your meal, thanks for shopping at K-Mart-I mean what the hell, right? I admit I am a freak. Always have been always will be, but, Jesus sweet Lord do you really give a shit? You have just finished the worse meal you have ever eaten. Shitty service and crappy food: always a great combination. You have gotten to the point with your old lady that if you have fought fiercly, you no longer appologize, you no longer give her a sweet tickle and a kiss and say 'Honey, you are so right; I am that brute. So, you emptied the cat litter lately?' No, you just say 'Let's go out and get a meal, get drunk and maybe it'll go away.' Then... then!... that meal and that ornery damn waitress that smiles sweetly up at you, and you know she does not give a shit any more'n yer damn wife, does she? She asks 'Did you enjoy your meal?' You answer 'Yes, fine, thanks' and you leave a tip that helps her to pay her rent and buy her boyfriend a toke or two. That is it? So why do we not just simply say 'You know what, you rude pile of shit? That was the crappiest meal we ever ate and here i got a tip for you', then you simply stand up and smack her in the chops. Come on, it is what you would love to do, is it not? But no, you are afraid. Ball-less you sit. 'Oh dear, I cannot say what I think because they will bring in some brute to chastize me and then get my sorry ass arrested.'
Alright, alright, I get that part -- the arrest fear. Not much fun spendin' the night with the hordes of the unwashed, I admit. Really though, you do not tip well or at all, then what happens? Yeah, some asswipe comes up to you -- the maitre dee dee -- and says you are a cheap bastardo and you should get the hell out of his restaurant. 'Look, you dumb motherfucker, your fucking restaurant is a hole that has food that my mutt Josephine would put her nose up at and piss on. Now go fuck yourself or I am gonna smash your face into the damn table till all the little bones holding your little brain together are crushed to a damn pulp'? No, no, 'sorry, here is a tip, you are of course correct and we are indeed the dregs of the earth'.
So there it is. The broad at the supermarket that you wanna smash upside her ugly face and worse grin -- 'thank you for shopping at K-Mart'. Damn, the world is going... no, it has gone to hell in a hand basket and we are grateful that the basket is full of shit. So it is, so it shall be, now and forevermore, amen and amen!
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