Let me tell you a little about my life: I work 40 hours a week at a special education school. I'm a substitute. Our school serves a HUGE population. What that means is; Monday - i may be working with really sweet, nice 13 year old kids with Downs Syndrome. Tuesday - I may be hanging out with energetic, tough, but fun 6 year olds with schizophrenia. Wednesday my day is spent with 17 and 18 year old sufferers of various conduct disorders with claims and/or ties to various sets of Crips or Bloods. My point being - I don't typically have easy days. If I'm not being spit at or bit, I'm being swung at or called a faggot.
That being said, I live across the street from the gnarliest of drug addicted/dealing neighbors. Today for example: I was on my side yard (SIDE YARD) spray painting Crocodiles shirts ( we can't afford to have screen printed nice shirts made ). This was at 4 pm, after working from 7:30 am to 3:30 pm. This wasn't an easy task - I had to carefully lay out a blank white t-shirt, carefully place a fragile stencil and carefully spray paint over it. After that was done, I had to carefully remove the stencil as to not drag paint over the design and then carefully lay it out to dry, before carefully washing and drying it. The whole time I was doing this, I had a humongous meth addict in a rocking chair laughing at me and heckling me. This fatso was screaming such gems as: "When can I get a shirt" and "You look like you're working hard". Thanks for the observations, Queen Chunk. My life isn't hard enough without Junior Seau in heels yodeling at me from across the way. If I wanted your opinion - you waste of a yard - I would foster a drug addiction and buy speed from that old piece of shit you call a husband. Seriously - I've never met a Grandpa more deserving of death. What does that piece of trash bring to this world but new strands of drugs to shoot/sell/produce in front of the baby that has the misfortune of living there? And seriously - when I'm in my 60's; please let me never fraternize with gross, scabby ex-cons who look like modern day Vanilla Ices ( read: dress like 13 year olds ) that populate your nasty ass yard. I'm super stoked that I have a little slice of Appalachia 40 feet away from me. I'm not kidding, some fucking jerk pro-dirtbike looking fuck was throwing acorns at me from across the street today. Fucking acorns. I live in San Diego. As far as I know acorns don't even grow here. This piece of white shit cultivated that shit to fuck with me cuz I actually wake up and work for a living. Fuck him. I can't wait till that fucking house blows up and takes Korn and methpa and the fat heckler with it. My life is hard enough as it is - I don't need West Virginia across the street to fuck with me and make it worse.