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Friday, May 3, 2013

Cancer Anger, or Canger

Walking home from work this evening, I was shadowing (not on purpose! Jeez) this woman with gorgeous hair. Kind of a cool brown, with expensive layers. It was in a ponytail, the kind that's meant to look casual but actually probably took several minutes of fussing to get right. She looked like a fucking Feria commercial.

I imagined what I would say to her, if I were the sort of girl who talked to strangers.

"I hope you appreciate that hair," I might grumble.

I was entertaining other possibilities when she pulled out her lighter. Which she used to light a fucking cigarette.

Fuck everyone.

(If you don't know why I hate this, then I hate YOU.)

(JK. Maybe.)


  1. Wow. These fuckfaces don't stop smoking.

  2. My eyes are blood shot from reading. I’m at work, but reading your blog – this post is so much the conversation I have with myself.