the cubs are on a hot streak, its friday, my boss isnt here today, its nice out, football season has begun (pictured), i get to see my truest on sunday, clipper girl’s cousin wants to come over tonight. everything should be awesome right now. i should be feeling like a million. instead i feel about a quarter million.
was late for the subway, hated the people getting out of the elevator. got to the bench, hated the woman with the loud heels clicking her way all the way down to me. hated that she sat next to me. released a little gas. hated that she didnt notice.
got on the subway, hated that it was my happy good morning good morning subway guy who is always peppy and awesome. actually didnt hate him for very long. loved him pretty immediately. transfered trains. didnt hate anyone till i got to the escalator, hated this guy in a pinstripe suit and flip flops. hated him for a good 100 feet then saw this guy run to the elevator. this elevator is like gold to most of the commuters who dont want to take the second escalator. you save maybe 3 seconds if you can get on the elevator and it rises just as you get on. but thats not what ever happens. some ass always comes running just as the doors are closing to squeeeeeeze in and then you have to wait for the doors to decide to close and then you and your twenty newest cramped friends ride the 20 feet up and you dont have to use the terribly frightening escalator.
whatever. i hated everyone. especially those who didnt walk up the escalator but stayed planted on the left and right sides, blocking me, who enjoyed the daily exercise of walking up the escalator. im not really a hater. im a lover. i normally love everyone and everything. but lately ive been in the foulest of moods. i feel like im in purgatory. i dont know if im up or down. black is white. white is black, we’re through the lookingglass people.
i wrote something this week that i thought completely kicked ass and only d-lo said anything nice about it and for that i am in lust with her. good old kristin split from her man and it made me sad. i dont like for nice people to have to end things. still. still. still i hated as i waited for the bus in the heat of the morning of the last days of disco. i have the biggest frowny frown on, i have friends all around me, people are talking nice nice about chopper one and you know one thing that i have a right to be pissed about are the tours. ok, hot chicks in business suits from all over the world come to hollywood to see chopper one. i dont know where these people are from and yet they come. they come here with their bosses, always men, always nodding, always sure that they know what theyre looking at, but they dont know shit. and what bothers me the most is that the guys who give the tours know less and they point at me like im the monkey boy and i am the monkey boy but they dont ever say, hey agent, would you like to say a few words about your vehicle?
especially when theres a hot babe in a business suit and skirt and a clipboard and visitors pass. what would i tell them?
i would say, what youre seeing here is a miracle. its poetry in motion. its a dream and a fantasy. if youre the wrong person its a nightmare. its the most deadly and illegal weapon that you’ll ever see and when its at its most dangerous you cant even see it. this is chopper one, the penthouse of the tower of babble. able to leap tall mountains with a single thought. able to become invisible with a click. able to make one person or thousands vomitous with two clicks. what youre seeing my friends is the begining and the end, the here and the now, the future and the past, what youre seeing is the baddest ass piece of magic that you probably shouldnt even know about and it can only be flown by one man using esp and that man is me and i want to quit.
maybe thats why they dont let me talk during the damn tour.