"Bye, Brad!" I called. "Thanks for the ride!
- "Bye, Brad!" I called. "Thanks for the ride! I owe ya one!" Brad smiled & tilted his chin. "No problem. Quiche you later."
- I had to grit my teeth to stop from hitting him. I hated it when Brad said things like that -- things like "Lettuce go together." Once of these days, I'd make him pay by
- looking at him with a real nasty glare for a long time. The only problem is Brad is huge. So I have to be careful not to actually, directly challenge but still feel the wrath
- . "Brad! Look me in the eye!" I yelled up at the behemoth. Brad swiveled blotting out the light with his massive frame. "I..um.. challenge... I mean, what chance finding you here?"
- Brad pounded his car-sized fists together. "Pathetic little baby man." he said. That got me mad. "This is for college, you bastard!" I yelled out as i whipped out my secret weapon:
- my 506c filings setting up my crowd funding instrument to cover college and grad school with the option to extend it to cover my doctorates. That shut Brad up quite effectively.
- Brad had a Fellowship at Oxford and bragged about getting drunk every weekend. He still got his masters in Literarary Criticism, but it took longer. When he was hungover, he stayed
- executions left and right. The other rastafarians wondered what business it was for an alcoholic literary academic to be judging the wait staff. Why were they all on death row?
- What the Rastafarians and the alcoholic literary academic weren't remembering (for obvious reasons) is that they had been convicted of murder. But they had actually been framed by
- their own social deviance.. It was really a delicious irony all along.
- Started
- 2013-09-26 18:39:57
- Finished
- 2017-06-07 22:43:22
1 Comments
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Lenman Jun 07 2017 @ 22:47
This one is a favorite of mine