This one's for the girls...

Someone will die, oh yes... someone will die. I had to go shopping for some things for my mother just now, and run some additional errands. First, I go and get a gift certificate... no problem there, the mall wasn't very busy at all (surprisingly) and it was a simple in-and-out job. Next, I have to run to the bank for her real quick before it closes at noon... not a big deal, I'm just hoping I don't run into my ex-boyfriend's mother, who shall be called Mrs. Creepy for all intents and purposes. I park, walk into the bank... no sign of Mrs. Creepy, no problems. I'm waiting politely behind a man in front of me when an elderly gentleman walks in behind me. All is well, he's old, whatever. everything proceeds normally as he steps up to the counter beside me and takes out a check and identification to cash the check with... this is when the Bomb of Perversion is dropped directly on my unwitting head as he turns himself completely to face me (I'm looking straight ahead, ignoring this... my unconscious mind can apparently already tell what disgusting attention is about to be thrown my way) and this is when the chief of the Horny Old Toad clan from the mystically slimy land of Impotent, province of Inbred decides to utter with as much musty breath as his emphysema will allow. "Ooooohhh... yeah..." while standing not even three feet from me. The bank teller pays no attention to this; not that I blame her, she was probably too much in her own world, thinking of how on Earth she was going to fix that monstrosity of bad highlights and bull-dykiness that was once considered hair on top of her head. So I cash the check, say "thank you", and haul ass out of that place as soon as possible. At this point, I'm in my car, door locked before I'm even fully settled in, and ready to bind three or four cigarettes together in an effort to calm myself from the raging desire burning in my gut to go back in there and butterfly that asshole's pitifully worthless skin-flap of manhood from base to tip with a ballpoint pen... but I simply drive away, albeit somewhat angrily and fantasizing about having him attached to my car's undercarriage, so that he may enjoy my ride to my next stop while experiencing a slow and painful dragging death, courtesy of moi.

Okay, so I'm fuming, but I make my way over to my next stop, a nice little grocery store that I've never had issue with, and have found that their products are immensely enjoyable, and immensely cheap, to say the least. All goes well, and I'm in and out of there too... so I go to my next stop, literally right across the street. This is another grocery store that I have to visit as the previous store didn't have an item my mother requires for one of her many deliciously decadent desserts. I'm frustrated because the people in the parking lot seem to be lacking any and all common courtesies associated with driving, and I'm sitting at the stop sign for almost four minutes, not even able to edge forward as there are morons blowing through the stop sign and the parking lot at a good 40 clicks an hour. Understandably, I'm a little hesitant to scoot forward, as it is very clear that due to being too busy talking with their exes on their little rinky-dink cell phones about who'll get the children this year so they can bang their respective flavor-of-the-month Christmas Eve night, these lovely individuals are going to completely obliterate the front of my vehicle if I so much as move forward an inch more than I already have.

Finally, I catch a break in traffic and zoom forward, towards the back area of the lot in an effort to find a spot out of the way. Spots are hard to find, as is expected at this time of year, but I manage to catch a guy who's just pulled out of his spot... thank you sir, and waving nicely to the kind gentleman who blocked other traffic so that I could slide right on in... you have my gratitude, my good man. I get out of my car, make sure I'm all locked up and lights are off, then proceed bravely toward the store. I have barely moved six feet when I hear the second cat call of the day, in the form of a whistle from a sort of college-studenty redneck driving through the opposite parking lot lane. There are other women around that would certainly be considered more attractive than I by his surely high (uh, yeah....) standards, but as I look up to see where the noise came from, I notice that he was most definitely looking at me... oh joy to the world, our black-toothed, gym-socks-shoved-down-the-front-of-his-pants-to-create-the-perfect-illusion-of-mediocrity Savior has come. And at what better time of the year? Why, surely, this was exquisite timing, for as though I didn't already hate humanity enough today, here comes this beautifully breathtaking specimen of what happens when brothers hump their retarded sisters to prove to me that low, I am wrong! For humanity is apparently far, far worse than I originally thought. What joy! What happiness! What sadness when I remembered that I didn't have a gun or even a mere knife ready and at hand in order to soundly dispose of this menace to our kind's oh-so-very-sanctified gene pool. Yea, verily, for soon enough we shall surely hear of his pooch girlfriend bearing puppy-children in his uniquely hideous likeness... maybe after they become famous from the tabloids, they'll move far, far away... hey, one can dream, right?

And so ladies, this rant is dedicated to you. For I hear your despairing cries, lamenting the lost "gentlemen" of yore, and wish to bring you tidings of great joy! For unto you, my dears, is born a Savior! In the form of a genetically modified race of men that I shall be creating in my basement laboratory, splicing together the genes of such greats as Henry Kissinger, Pierce Brosnan, and my boyfriend, who shall be unnamed for purposes of privacy and because I'm sure he'd rather not be officially mentioned as having part in any of my crazed schemes. So fear not, fair maidens! For I'm in college! That means I'm smart enough to do this, right? :-D Well, wish me luck anyway... until next time, I bid you adieu.