what was that? is that all there is? who is this? this is it.

Angry

stomping 

mustard packets

two at a time

on the floor

of the elevator 

at 1601 5th

misdirected

energy

meant for

Ogden Murphy

fuck those fucking fucks

and their

piece of shit

paralegal

smells like 2008

daydreaming

retrospecting

reflecting

off the glass

across the street 

3 Comments

That piece of shit paralegal complained about me because I didn’t catch her mistake until after I got on the elevator down to hand off her Pierce County Superior Court filing to a driver who was waiting outside. On the elevator I noticed the documents were all titled “Mason County” so I brought them all right back to the receptionist within 2 minutes. But the paralegal had gone on her coffee break so the documents did not get filed right away. She called the owner and said that the bike messengers should review her court documents and catch any mistakes before they get on the elevator. Horseshit. She also complained about a coworker who smelled like beer one day. Fuck those fucking fucks. If I wanted to be a paralegal, I would be. But I didn’t and I don’t. I wanna be free. I wanna be free to do what I wanna do. I wanna be free to ride. I wanna be free to ride my machine, without being hassled by the man… …and I wanna get loaded.

Aliens are all around us man. They’re there but you can’t see them if you could see them your little fuckin monkey mind would explode. How the fuck do you think your mind would be able to actually accept a fucking alien it wouldnt because it couldn’t and it can’t but they’re there man all around us controlling everything. Three fuckin fingers.

those aliens were impressed with your magnums of Casarsa consumption like clockwork.

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