The Difficulty of Dark

Can I tell you something, my friend?

It is hard being dark. It doesn't happen to me all the time, which is why my posts are so infrequent.

But you know, it's tiring, the darker side of things. I'm tired of being enraged by idiots. I'm tired of pretty girls who think that being pretty is a good enough excuse to allow them to pretend to be unaware that they are cutting a line or walking in the middle of the street (OK, I admit: I used the unaware/break a bar line thing tonight - I admit! And it worked!), I'm tired of moms thinking it's ok to block the entire movement of the public because of the priority of the item in the stroller, tired of people not understanding that EXITING public transport supercedes ENTERING it, tired of honking my horn to indicate that everyone else in San Francisco is making illegal turns and stops and whatnot. My friend, I am simply tired of being angry.

I love being happy. As my closest friend, you know that, and you also know that I am a bit twisted. So I really really hope the infamous Governer of California gets fucked bigtime on the Special Election shit. That will make me very very happy. Yeah!