Jan. 15th, 2007

dexfarkin: (Default)
Motherfuckin' Kansas.

I was supposed to leave on a flight at 9:25am today, get home after lunch, have a nap, a few drinks at the Griffin and get to work all refreshed.

It's now 7pm, I am in an airport bar in Kansas drinking shitty beer, slowly ticking over into hour twelve and thirteen of my exile out in the asshole of America. We are abandoned and dying by inches. Johnny, send lawyers, guns and money! And beer! And something that isn't GODDMAN FUCKING NFL ON THE TELEVISION!

I'm not actually insane. I passed that after ten hours. Now, I am at the point that I would endorse genocide for a flight. If Hitler was flying the plane, I would tip him. Nute, the Ice Bringer of the American panethon has brought us all here for sacrifice.

O ryl'th?

At best, I will hit the civilization at Bloor West around midnight. I plan to go to the bar anyways, because seriously, ready to kill. No one has to meet me, although I know where I will be. Then I will get myself fired tomorrow.

Dr Tran did all of this. Motherfuckin' American Dickings.

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