I really want to beat somebody up. You know... hit someone repeatedly until they crawl away crying.
And I don't mind telling you I don't feel one bit bad about it either. Well maybe a little bad, but not bad enough to prevent me from striking someone for little or no reason.
I just wish I knew why.
Christmas is coming, which actually makes me happy. I am a big fan of shiny things and of having dead trees in the house and thankfully my religion demands that I do both once a year.
Cross Christmas off the list of things that are upsetting me to the point of violence.
There are roughly 500 pounds of grain fed Angus in my freezers, which also brings me a certain amount of happiness. Something about knowing I can have a T-Bone for breakfast with a hamburger back gives me a feeling of great superiority over those without massive amounts of beef.
Obviously it isn't a lack of Vitamin Red Meat that has turned me wicked mean then.
As I sit here typing, I notice no cramps, bloating or cravings involving salt, chocolate and/or the souls of Victoria Secret models.
Strike through My Time of the Month.
I have more than $100 in my checking account, but less than One Billion. I figure that's a good space to be in actually. Less than a hundred means I can't buy frozen coffee drinks whenever I want but more than One Billion means some fat guy from the Enquirer will make his living going through my trash.
Not money then.
I'm watching a color television set right now at this very minute. No reason to be pissed about that. I know people that have lived their entire lives never having realized Oprah is black or Lucy was a red head.
No I don't.
I guess I really have no idea why I want to wail away on the next person who walks through my front door and I guess that's going to have to be OK. Anger is healthy after all and beating a person who doesn't want to be beaten is excellent aerobic exercise. I'm always saying I need to get more exercise.
Hey you. Come here a minute.
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