Shit At Your Own Risk

• God hates me. It's 100 degrees and I have cramps. Neither my palms nor my wee little feet will stop sweating. AND I am armpit height which means I gotta breathe through my mouth on the subway all week long. If you've got B.O, I know it. I'm down wind of everyone.
• I freaked out this past Friday because I could not get a hold of my Mom or my brother, and I hadn't heard from either of them for a few days. I automatically assume that someone is dead, bleeding profusely, lying by the side of some road, writhing on the bathroom floor after a bad fall, crying because their ribs have been broken so they cannot shout for help, stuck in a fire at Ford City or on their way to the hospital for any reason whatsoever. Here are a few: they're being transported via ambulance, they're driving themself while fighting crippling pain, they received an urgent call from hospital personnel b/c ER nurses and docs cannot identify a patient which is probably a family member wounded (without a wallet no less), someone needs blood and we're O+ (universal doners, sure, but no one can give us shit when we're leaking platelets), hurredly racing to meet my critical mother/brother/cousin/aunt/uncle (all grandparents have kicked, thank God) and practicing how they'll deliver the news to me via the phone.
• That doctor who blew up his own home on the Upper East side so his bitch wife wouldn't get it died yesterday. Good for him. Not only is it pathetic to botch a suicide attempt (P.S.--accross the wrist is a cry for help, up the inner forearm is not fucking around) but that asshole injured several people while doing so, arranged the explosion himself hence NO INSURANCE coverage and would have had to pay the bitch wife anyway. That's a shitload of lawsuit settlement cash, and he'd have no shot at paying any of it. He'd live the rest of his life burnt to a crisp, deeply in debt and hated by all who knew of even heard of him. Whew! Saved by the flatline.
• Since I saw that French soccer dude head butt his opponent during the championship game of The World Cup, I fantasize about head butting every dude I see right in the nuts. Being 'blow job height' isn't so funny anymore, huh fellas? Bam!

SOAPBOX:

I hate Bush a lot less today b/c he got busted saying "shit." I wish that wasn't the case, tho. First, I enjoy my loathing of the man. Why ruin a nasty thing? Second, I shouldn't know about it. Nor should anyone. I hate the (un-liberal) news media for making such a big deal out of it. I mean, really people. Shit? SOUTH PARK aired an entire episode where the boys just repeated the word 'shit' over and over again to see how many times they could get away with it, both within the show's context and in broadcast reality on Comedy Central. What does Brian Williams or an AP stringer say when they drop something? "Darn?" Want to hear real, genuine Presidential cussing? Check out the private tapes of Lyndon Johnson. FDR didn't exactly speak with the gentle tongue of a Bronte sister either. And I can only hope that during the Cuban Missile Crisis every other word uttered in the West Wing was "shit."

The world is in crisis. A whole lotta shit is going down. It's a shit mess out there. World leaders are gathered at the most influential circle jerk of the decade, the G-8, trying to get some shit done. That's serious shit. It's tense shit, too. Shit, if I were there, I'd be shitting my pants thinking, "Oh, shit! Is this mic on? Yes? Shit!"