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| i'm so pissed at unicorns. | 12.17.2003 | |
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 so i’m approaching this unicorn, and the f[beep]ing thing starts bucking and shit. scared the hell out of me. i mean, in the non-fiction fantasy books that my pedophiliac uncle tom used to read me: unicorns were nice, passive creatures that had a single horn and didn’t wear horse-shoes (though one could argue they did have a vague semblance to the mane-bearing beasts). so i was completely taken aback by this (well.. yes.. ill say it...) monster's rise to its hind legs and subsequent foot thrusts at my chest. i think the damn thing loosened one of my ribs. it kinda jiggles now when i touch it. at that point i began screaming at it. 'i hate you!' i screamed. 'i never liked unicorns, anyway.' i then proceeded to tell it that i thought it had no right to jump out at me and begin an onslaught of such magnitude that it came close to paralleling the incident at my uncle tom's cabin: i was ten and he would hold me by my armpits and dip my feet into this old pond out back that was filled with leeches. he then would hum 'hells bells' and pick them off. it was a harrowing experience. i never asked him about his vendetta with the state of oregon ever again. i cant say that i really don’t like unicorns anymore, but i was willing to say anything to give this thing a guilt trip as it was assaulting my ribcage. and to be honest with you, the whole thing was beginning to disillusion my thoughts on unicorns. i mean, it's not like to run into the hellions everyday, ya know? the thing didn’t take to my verbal slashes well, suddenly it started shooting these laser-looking things at me. and this is when i really started to lose it. a unicorn, and i know it was a unicorn because it had a horn and didn’t wear horse-shoes, is shooting pyrotechnics at me? it was a fantastic light display. this unicorn was like the thomas edison of unicorns. it reminded me of the time i was shuttled off to vermont to live with this lady with these moles on her legs that 'put up the flow on ebay' as my uncle put it. the moles looked like leeches. scared, i never asked her about oregon. she was a nice lady, at least that is what the old man on vicodin that was sitting in her flowerbed told me the first time she led me into her house. the lady's name was louise (why im not sure) but she made lattace for a living. it was some of the best damned lattace in vermont. and in vermont, things like that matter. so, just as im admiring the pyrotechnics and thinking maybe this unicorn is just a badass-- and it really isnt a prick that only want to kick me in the chest-- the f[beep]ing thing kicks me in the chest again. oh, i was pissed. more pissed than the time i lost my innocence outside my eighth grade dance. i was scalping tickets (we had a corrupt student council), and i just got carried away with this girl i that was whispering to me from a nearby choke cherry bush. strangely, she was wearing a babushka. i had been watching a lot of the game show network, so when i told her that i'd give her twenty dollars and let her 'make out' with me if she could produce a light bulb from her purse... i should've known. she was so gross. thanks, thomas edison. my chest hurts. god, unicorns are trying my patience. |
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| 2:26 am | xander said this. | |
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