Ice queens, diesel and jackhammers

I'm probably not the most sympathetic person on this side of town, but I've cut more slack these past few days, than I have in a long time. Mostly for people working in the customer service business. First to the bartender with a crap attitude and today to the guy at the gas station, who was getting flamed by this drunken loser. I told the bartender to try smiling, or it would be one long night for her. And I told the drunken broad at the gas station to cool it and shared the guy's misfortune. And I felt good inside.

I mean, what the hell is wrong with me? They're the ones who deserve the shit for choosing their occupation.

We had another regular guys' night out with the public pedometer and Mr. 33. Ranting and flaming about women, cars, food, politics and Vesa-Matti Loiri's wife is really therapeutic.

I filled up the Audi's tank. 33 litres said the meter (notice my expert use of spelling), and I thought my budget was about to rip apart. But it was diesel, the fuel of kings, and it cost me only 33 euro. I rocketed off with my 320Nm of torque and smoked a Type-R from the first red light. I also turned my bass-oriented music up to the max and hit my reverse-worn baseball cap on my Tommi's Billet aluminium spoiler.

All this action in the last four days has really destroyed me physically. I feel like a snare drum gone through a gruesome drum solo by a ninth grader trying to be Lars Ulrich. That'll probably be normal to some of you, partying hard for days on end. But what about my head? I'll make a written promise right here: when I find the person who's jackhammered the inside of my head to a bloody senseless pulp, I will make a grade A eye-plucking and skullfucking on the spot. My moral highground over everyone else has been shaken up from so many directions at once, that it's begun to affect the way I think. Horrible. I've just realised I've become a woman and returned to puberty.

Speaking of drumsets, I gotta get me one. This banging on table corners and steering wheel columns is fun for a while. But then it gets to the point, where either it's too painful, because of the bruises, or the lack of different sounds bores you to hell. Besides, I haven't hit a China Crash for years.

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