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The very next motherfucker (this may be a poor choice of phrase) who decides that the parking garage next to my apartment, the parking garage that, in fact, one has to be a resident of Building Next Door to use, is not only an excellent echo chamber to drive their fivehundredjillion decibels of crap music AND their possibly-diesel truck (it was blatting like a diesel, but I was asleep. Maybe it was just a lot of drunken acceleration) BUT ALSO the most romantic place for a sexual encounter EVAR, before they blat-and-decibel their way back out, will find out why god made guns.
Did I mention that this was at four ten this morning? Or that it was fucking hot enough that I had to have my window open so that I would not die in my sleep?
Yeah.
But I admit that I am unsure whether his mother was his date.
Did I mention that this was at four ten this morning? Or that it was fucking hot enough that I had to have my window open so that I would not die in my sleep?
Yeah.
But I admit that I am unsure whether his mother was his date.
