Smells Like The Weekend

Was bummed out the other day when I was reminded that the average cat lives till their 15. Effectively meaning I’ve at least another 8 years before I can walk in front of a bus without guilt.
Hope you appreciate this Queso?

There’s nothing like seeing how well loved you are when a load of, (I guess?) friends, post on the wall wishing me a ‘Happy Birthday’. And whilst I consider myself entirely more awesome than any inbreeding ‘Royal’, the rest of the world has yet to catch up hence I still only get the one birthday. And, unless everything changes when you tip over 40? It’s still the same date as it has been for the last 40 years…

Shooting through the decades picking through the highlights, in other news, I’ve successfully gone another week without murdering a soul! There were a few close calls. Not least the Starbucks Mgr. who was becoming a little bit too insistent that I stand EXACTLY on the wee, marker circle.
‘Look! You must stand there. It’s not my decision. You’re putting my life in danger!’
Sh*t b*tch, your weight and your personality are a greater risk to you staying a part of the living!
I wasn’t in the mood. I had a mask on.  So very quietly –
‘Please give me a refund.’
And whilst they processed my refund, they gave me my latte. Erred on spiting my face till I remembered that I really wanted my latte.
Perhaps after the year we’ve had Karma’s said, ‘Fuck it’ and proceeded to randomly launch good fortune into an unexpecting society?
It was a nice latte. I forgot my cheesecake muffin.

Though I have been remembering my fried breakfasts. Which is nothing but awesome if I can boost my pre-noon positivity. I like to think this McMuffin positively stops me acting out when I slowly pass someone on my bike and they feel the righteous need to audibly announce some variation of ‘Shouldn’t be on the paths.’
Yeah well you need to stop playing the victim when you’re not so maybe we’re both at fault?
Also, please keep in-mind here, I’m barely even cycling in these instances. I’m pretty much pushing myself along with my foot or certainly going slower than my walking pace.  So then, what do you hope to accomplish by your little outburst? Are you expecting me to stop, get off my bike, throw myself to the ground at your feet and beg any gods nearby, nature, and your great self for forgiveness?
And if not, then WTF are you expecting? It hardly ever happens where I’m at now which is nice. London was ‘orrible with one f*cker outside a pub proceeding to kick my bike. It all got a bit chesty for a time before filtering out into nothing.

Much like my opportunities just now. I’ve something on the 7th which I’ll cross my fingers, eyes, and legs for.  Who knows, who knows?

Smells like a wkd.

Fireworks 8

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January 2, 2021