So, I’m sitting in Southlake. For those of you who aren’t familiar with my particular location on this planet of ours, Southlake is a rather posh town nearby where I live. It’s where the soccermoms and teenage drama queens live, for the most part. It’s quite high-income, is what I’m saying.
I feel like I should be looking around at all the excess and ranting against it. HOW DARE YOU LIVE SUCH EXTRAVAGANT LIVES! BLARG! and so on. But I just don’t feel it. I’m sitting it what effectively counts as their town square at [yet another] Starbucks. Across the promenade [complete with gazebo!] there is an Apple store. Next to it, a very classy Mexican restaurant [in which I shared drinks with of of the previous executives of Activision]. And in the middle of it, what generally accounts for a civic building, neo-classical in its design. Oh, and of course, plenty of disaffected youths milling about, shuffling their feet, wearing out the soles of their designer shoes.
But for some reason, it doesn’t really bother me. Actually, I look around and think it all looks rather nice. It’s a pleasant spot I’m in, and it has more than an adequate amount of public spaces to be in. I wouldn’t mind living in an area like this. I could just do with out the Excursions with designer white rims, and the teenagers who are trying to slum it with designer labels.
However, something does bother me. Really, what could earn my ire out here? The clock. The town hall clock. It’s simple, barely readable from 50 feet away, and electric. It chimes, as any good town hall clock should. BUT THE CHIME IS ELECTRIC. It’s a speaker. It’s a series of generated tones.
For some reason, the fact that this upscale place couldn’t be fucked to invest in an actual bell-chime system just bugs me. If you’re going to invest in making a place look snazzy and down-homey at the same time, BUY SOME FUCKING CHIMES.
/firstworldrant
So, there’s someone sitting behind me, outside my local Starbucks. And he keeps snorting. As in, constantly. And it’s not a loud series of SSSSNNNNNNNRRRGGGGGGGGNNNNNGGGKs, oh no. No, if it were that, I could offer him a napkin or a tissue and look like a nice guy while effectively shutting him up. No, it’s these little snnrt srnggt srrngk noises. All at the regular interval of 1.3 times a second. I CAN’T IGNORE IT. IT DOESN’T BLOCK OUT AT ALL.
Of course, I could just go inside, or perhaps move to a different table. BUT NO. FUCK YOU FOR EVEN SUGGESTING THAT. I’VE GOT A PERFECT SPOT WHERE THE SUN IS HITTING ME JUST SO AND I WAS HERE FIRST AND FUCK YOU. And I want to smoke my cigarettes. So, I will just quietly rant here and
Oh.
Looks like he’s gone now. That’s good.
I’m currently standing on the field of my old high school, helping the band move props. My nostalgia level is OVER 9000.
ONCE THERE WAS A BOY WHO LOVED A GIRL VERY MUCH AND THEY WERE HAPPY BUT SHE WAS SICK LIKE REAL BAD AND SHE WENT TO THE HOSPITAL ALL THE TIME BUT ONCE SHE WENT THERE AND THEN HAD TO STAY BECAUSE HER INSIDES WERE ALL WRONG AND THE BOY WAS SAD AND HE TRIED TO FIND A WAY TO GET HER SOME NEW INSIDES BUT THE WAITING LIST WAS LIKE SUPER LONG AND IT WAS GOING TO TAKE FOREVER AND A DAY FOR HER TO GET THEM SO HE GOT MAD AND STARTED FINDING OTHER WAYS TO GET THE INSIDES AND HE WOUND UP RUNNING DRUGS FOR THE MAFIA SO THAT HE COULD WORK HIS WAY INTO THE BLACK MARKET TO BE A PART OF THE ILLEGAL ORGAN TRAFFICKING CARTEL AND THEN HE HAD TO KILL SOME GUYS TO PROVE HIS LOYALTY TO THE FAMILY AND HE DID IT AND HE WAS SAD BUT THE MORE WORK HE DID FOR THEM THE LESS HE FELT IN HIS HEART FOR ANYTHING BUT HE STILL LOVED THE GIRL IN SOME WAY AND SHE WAS THE REASON HE STARTED DOING THIS SO HE KEPT AT IT AND ONE DAY HE WAS TOLD THAT THERE WERE SOME INSIDES THAT HE NEEDED TO MOVE ACROSS STATE LINES AND IT TURNED OUT THAT THEY WERE THE EXACT KIND OF INSIDES THE GIRL NEEDED TO HAVE AND HE DEFIED THE FAMILY AND GOT INTO A SHOOTOUT AND HE WAS HURT LIKE REAL BAD BUT HE GOT AWAY AND HE DROVE REAL FAST TO THE HOSPITAL SHE WAS AT AND HE RAN UP TO HER DOCTOR AND THREATENED HIM WITH A GUN TO MAKE HIM PUT THE INSIDES IN THE GIRL BUT THE DOCTOR WAS ALL LIKE “WE TRIED EVERYTHING BUT SHE DIED TWO HOURS AGO AND WE TRIED TO CALL YOU BUT YOUR CELL PHONE OUT OF RANGE” AND THAT WAS BECAUSE HE WAS IN THAT SHOOTOUT AND THE BOY WAS SAD AND HE CREYED AND BECAME AN ALCOHOLIC AND LIVED TO BE A HUNDRED AND NURSED HIS SORROW EVERYDAY AND NEVER LOVED ANYONE AGAIN THE END.
