A Present for Susan
Ola, every buddy. (I know that was a spelling error; it was intentional.)
I was going to wait a day or two to post but Susan appealed to my ego. To paraphrase Zaphod Beeblebrox, if there's anything more important than my ego on the web, I want it shot and killed right now.
...
So, I went down to Wood-a-bridge to attend my first session of anger management, and gosh, but I feel better. There are supposed to be ten sessions in this block, and so by the end I imagine I'll be up on a cross somewhere forgiving the people who put me there. Me and around a dozen angry Italian men watched a video which brought back nostalgic memories of "Blood Flows Red on the Highway", and "Safety Circle". To make a long and uninteresting story short, four rage-happy people walked the line between conversation and bloodbath, confessing their problems with cocaine, road rage, and throwing people out of windows, after which we had a conversation about which lunatic we identified with the most. Apparently my anger type is the same as a black woman who shrieks at her son for getting a "C" on an otherwise straight "A" report card and in her spare time chokes down fistfuls of sleeping pills.
As I said, I feel better already.
Other events which occurred today included chatting with the daycare funding people so Mya and Gav can get their exposure to sane people in the real world. Flying in the face of precedence, I was more or less prepared and theoretically Mya can start next week or so.
I also chatted with Legal Aid regarding my financial situation since the lunatic kicked me to the curb; again defying precedence they were quick and efficient, so on my way out I checked to see which country's government they worked for. Apparently our Legal Aid system is run by the Swiss.
No doubt as I write this my mother and sister are doing the Coyote Ugly routine at Saint Alban's, whilst Rob belts out "Always Something There to Remind Me". I wished to attend in order to consume toxic levels of intoxicants but, alas, there was a babysitting deficiency so I lodge in the Lair and instead consume instant coffee and chicken nuggets.
...
As an aside, exactly which part of the chicken is the "nugget"?
I'm betting it's a mix of neck and tongue.
...
Well, that's about as much computer monitor radiation my retinae can withstand; I think I'll go upstairs and subject myself to TV radiation instead to give me time to heal. If I manifest any unusual genetic mutation over the next few days you'll know the reason. Have a funkeriffic night of funk, and I'll funkify your funkiness at another funkture.
May your path be flat, brown and comfortable to walk upon,
The Sybaritic Lexiphage.
I was going to wait a day or two to post but Susan appealed to my ego. To paraphrase Zaphod Beeblebrox, if there's anything more important than my ego on the web, I want it shot and killed right now.
...
So, I went down to Wood-a-bridge to attend my first session of anger management, and gosh, but I feel better. There are supposed to be ten sessions in this block, and so by the end I imagine I'll be up on a cross somewhere forgiving the people who put me there. Me and around a dozen angry Italian men watched a video which brought back nostalgic memories of "Blood Flows Red on the Highway", and "Safety Circle". To make a long and uninteresting story short, four rage-happy people walked the line between conversation and bloodbath, confessing their problems with cocaine, road rage, and throwing people out of windows, after which we had a conversation about which lunatic we identified with the most. Apparently my anger type is the same as a black woman who shrieks at her son for getting a "C" on an otherwise straight "A" report card and in her spare time chokes down fistfuls of sleeping pills.
As I said, I feel better already.
Other events which occurred today included chatting with the daycare funding people so Mya and Gav can get their exposure to sane people in the real world. Flying in the face of precedence, I was more or less prepared and theoretically Mya can start next week or so.
I also chatted with Legal Aid regarding my financial situation since the lunatic kicked me to the curb; again defying precedence they were quick and efficient, so on my way out I checked to see which country's government they worked for. Apparently our Legal Aid system is run by the Swiss.
No doubt as I write this my mother and sister are doing the Coyote Ugly routine at Saint Alban's, whilst Rob belts out "Always Something There to Remind Me". I wished to attend in order to consume toxic levels of intoxicants but, alas, there was a babysitting deficiency so I lodge in the Lair and instead consume instant coffee and chicken nuggets.
...
As an aside, exactly which part of the chicken is the "nugget"?
I'm betting it's a mix of neck and tongue.
...
Well, that's about as much computer monitor radiation my retinae can withstand; I think I'll go upstairs and subject myself to TV radiation instead to give me time to heal. If I manifest any unusual genetic mutation over the next few days you'll know the reason. Have a funkeriffic night of funk, and I'll funkify your funkiness at another funkture.
May your path be flat, brown and comfortable to walk upon,
The Sybaritic Lexiphage.
posted by The Lexiphage at 8:53 p.m.
2 Comments:
Thanks Cam. I wish I could have been there to observe the anger management class. Sounds like it was a real hoot.
I wonder if I can get a court order to attend.
Pity you couldn't go to St. Alban's (that's the name of Church here in Kenora.... hmmm), I'd love to hear your report on that.
Question: Are Italian men more prone to anger?
No they're more prone to being in Woodbridge.
Post a Comment
<< Home