I want nothing to do with that fucking deer. Nothing good can come of it. May
it's eyeballs be pecked out by Vultures, and its ass eaten out by Crows.
It f'ing shat
all over my boots, pants, and bike on impact. Clearly had a full belly of fuck all
to give.
Second time in 3 weeks I was physically shat all over by the Shit Parade that has been
2024. Death has been puking in my face and breathing down my neck the entire year.
Literally.
I feel like Captain Dan, ready to climb the Mast in the midst of the Storm and
give the Powers (or Power) That Be the motherfucking finger, and tell It to go
fuck itself like the Primordial Snake Eating Its Own Tail That It is. Eat the Shit
out Yo Own Ass Uroboros!
I do appreciate the yuks and the rolling forward, never looking back nature of Life
that never stops nor ceases for anyone. That is how it goes, when it goes, as it goes.
We don't get days off here. Just Life eating Life under the pretense that there is some
kind of Grand Meaning to it All.
Lifeless corpses in the ditches lining both the Highway To Hell and the Stairways To Heaven.
All we are is all we are.
Cue the Cannibal Corpse, Fellas!
P.S. I may have been concussed.