The Question
Eternal
So sitting here in the cafe, I look up to see a nigger plunk down at the next computer over. Not a black man -- a nigger. 49 degrees outside and this thing is wearing the stereotypical baggy shorts and some kind of basketball jersey six sizes too large for it with nothing on underneath, the whole napkin-under-a-hat-turned-68-degrees-off-kilter-and-worn-upside-down headgear adventure. I'm surprised the retarded animal isn't trying to use the mouse by holding it in the air sideways.
So I'm sitting here, and EVERY FUCKING TIME I look up, it's staring at me with the weird bug-eyed expression these things typically get when they're trying to be intimidating.
How to respond, you ask? Here's TQ's answer: I clenched up the aul' intestinal wall and BLASTED a bowel-ful of sulphur gas. Swear to God I levitated in my chair.
It looked like the thing had a fucking spasm before leaping out of the chair and relocating itself.
That's how it's done.
So I'm sitting here, and EVERY FUCKING TIME I look up, it's staring at me with the weird bug-eyed expression these things typically get when they're trying to be intimidating.
How to respond, you ask? Here's TQ's answer: I clenched up the aul' intestinal wall and BLASTED a bowel-ful of sulphur gas. Swear to God I levitated in my chair.
It looked like the thing had a fucking spasm before leaping out of the chair and relocating itself.
That's how it's done.