Friday, October 9, 2015


It's no bother what you're doing to me, and I don't
really mind a thing : this concrete's all stained with
oil-leak drains, and the water just runs right down.
There's a seven-man minute to be here soon. All
hunkered down with his tools and his wires.
The catalyst for this occurrence was the moment
the roof began leaking when it wasn't even raining.
I knew right then I had to so something  -  before
you started talking again, babbling to everyone
about what a poor condition of man I am.
I couldn't have that going on around me, without my
own defense: the tax papers were late, the newspapers
had stopped, and that women from the constabulary office,
she said again she'd be here soon. One thing I hate is
dealing with women in power : high-heels, office clothes,
dicked-up hair and an attitude worth a mountain.
She can take it where she's goin', but she won't be
getting it from me. I ain't minding what anyone's doing.

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