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Sunday, December 23, 2012

DIARY ENTRY #73

This rapidly clotting blood and pieces of grey brain splattered on my hands and clothing is three hours old, cold, and crusty now. The baseball bat weapon is still smeared with the blood and red hair and other bodily flesh of this piece of shit asshole. I’ve still not decided what I’m going to do about the present situation I am now in. Should I whip out my cell phone and call the cops so they can discover this horror scene? Or, should I just walk out the back door and let the neighbors eventually discover your body! That would truly be the final indignity for this piece of dead garbage like you. Bloody carnage -- I like those words!

And, its too bad about your stupid wife and child! They shouldn’t have been home to get caught in this mess!

I remember all too well how this particular dark trouble got started. It was the bright and sunny day before yesterday. I was sitting in my car, listening to the end of the song on the radio, while parked in the parking lot of the electronics store up the street. I was minding my own goddamn business, when the beginning of your end started.

 
I was looking out my driver’s side window, watching the pretty girl jogging through the lot, when my vehicle suddenly shook with the force and sound of a loud ‘thump!’ I looked over to my right and saw a man, you, continuing on with the business of gathering the stuff from your back seat like nothing else had happened. I was instantly incensed because of your audacity.

I reacted to the situation by saying this to you, while peering through my open passenger side window, “Hey, you! Excuse me, over there. You just slammed my car with your door. Aren’t you going the acknowledge what you just did? What the hell?”

You shot back a full of defiance attitude, “What the hell is your deal?” You yelled to me as you gave me your angry stare-back.

I again informed you, “You just slammed your door hard enough into the side of my car to shake it!”

You answered with, “I don’t think so! But, so what if I did?”

By now I had walked around to the side of my car and I was looking directly at the three inch long dent. “Look. Look right there. Do you see that fresh damage? You did that just now! Look at the purple paint transferred from your truck to my car. ” There it was… purple paint from your purple door embedded in the white paint in the crease of the dent in my car door.

“I think you’re bugging out over nothing, old man.” You said as you prepared to go into the store. “Its just a goddamn car. I think you better get a grip on yourself, old man, and get the hell out of my face before I fuck-you-up!”

“Yea?” I said that word with incredulous bile dripping off of it.

“Yea! I believe that scar was already on your car. I also think you’re trying to shit me. I think you’re crazy!”

“Crazy, yea? I’ll show you crazy, after you give me your insurance information so that I can get this dent fixed.”

“You’re one stupid old bastard.” You declared, directing that hateful statement to me. “I mean, like, who the hell are you? The devil? And how did you suddenly get into my life? Here we are standing in this parking lot talking this bullshit -- you telling me I owe you money and me getting ready to kick your ass! You need to get the fuck out of here! Where is your common sense, old man?”

“Yea, common sense…” I answered, about to end this little hitch in time. “There is some sense to this scene. The sense is you paying for this damage.”

“Look, man. I’m getting the hell out of here. You can complain about this if you want. I don’t give a fuck. But I’m warning you, if you call the cops about this little shit and they come snooping around my house asking about this bullshit, I’ll come find your sorry ass and beat the hell out of you. Remember, I have your license number, too.”

“Ok…” I said, staring you down, bobbing my head up and down acknowledging that this situation had come to its final conclusion, for today.

“I’m out of here, ass!” You said as you glared at me. “Oh, and fuck you!”

And with that last statement, you left the parking lot, flipping me the bird on your way out. Oh, you thought you brushed off the matter, didn’t you. You thought you put thug fear in an old man Well, just like you declared that you could find me if you had to… guess what? I could, and did, find you just as easily. And now you are one dead motherfucker.

Who is the crazy one? You for being dead, or me for having made you dead. I don’t care. You’re gone and I am free to continue on with this life of mine without ever having to encounter your dumb as dirt ass again.

I think I’ll let the neighbors have all the fun of discovering your soon to be decaying, maggot filled body. This is the most fun this old man has had in five month  since that bitch stepped on my foot at the supermarket. That turned into a very bloody good time!

Oh, and I’ll just fix my car door myself. And, Fuck you!

Its time to go home and prepare for my DIARY ENTRY # 74!

 

-end-

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