Every time I turned it off was a chance for

Every time I turned it off was a chance for it to die peacefully, only to be revived again by the jagged jaws of my father’s jumper cables.

Seriously! I haven't heard an old person yet who isn't sexist or racist. Let's grab something to end their lives with early next week.

Early June by the latest. I've really got to stop procrastinating on this. There's a handful of soft talkers over on 74th Ave that I've been meaning to exterminate for months now.

I'm thinking it would be fun to push them in front of buses. Not during rush hour of course, there's a certain etiquette to this. I need more time to mull it over, time to

really consider my options, my career. They say the best time to push someone in front of a bus is right when they're about to eat a slice of key lime pie. Perhaps I'll buy one at

the Black Market next door - if I were going to eat the pie I wouldn't sacrifice quality for price, but all I wanted was to see Jerry plastered to a fender.

And so I bought the cheapest, messiest pie at Cheap Gag Mart and waited for the unsuspecting Jerry to walk around the corner. PMFFFFT! I stuffed it in his face just he was

walking around the corner. That's how I imagine it anyway- in s l o w m o t i o n. His foot appears,then his knee,I let fly with the pie. His face appears. Too late! It's not Jerry

Springer anymore. It's Jerry Seinfeld. I shudder in a cold sweat, but the pie lands on his face. Public humiliation for him, but the guilt forever remains on my hands. Or knees.