Big Scary Place
This is where my written blog entry would have gone if the Internet wasn’t a big scary place where one must censor oneself.
This is where my written blog entry would have gone if the Internet wasn’t a big scary place where one must censor oneself.
My Flat Disfunction - stupid bus is extra bumpy this morning. Made finishing this sketchy (pun intended)
I imagine that I’ve been brutally mysteriously murdered and they have to call a crack team of forensics specialists. They find that I have callouses on my knees and they come up with three scenarios. I’m an avid gardener who was killed by a rival. This was disproved after they see I lived in an apartment. I’m a very religious woman who prays constantly and was killed by a pro-choice activist. They talk to my friends and find they are way off base. Finally they figure I gave a lot of blow jobs and must have been a whore killed by a john. This theory nobody disproves or questions and it’s put in the papers.
The real story? I take the bus a lot and my long legs spend most of the time crushed into the seat in front of me. I was actually killed by a meth head that followed me off the bus late at night who just thought she’d try and get some money off me but snapped because of an underlining psycological disease.