RustyGate

Piece of shit car, I got a piece of shit car
That fuckin’ pile of shit, Never gets me very far

My car’s a big piece of shit, Cause the shocks are fucking shot
And my seatbelt’s fucking broken, I got to tie it in a knot

I can’t see through the windshield, Cause it’s got a big fuckin’ crack
And the interior smells real bad, ‘Cause my friend puked in the back

It’s got no CD player, it only got the 8-track
Whoever designed my car , can lick my sweaty nut sack

And I got no fuckin’ brakes, I’m always way out of control
Eleven times a day I hear, “Hey, watch it asshole”

Oh what the fuck did I do, What the fuck did I do
What the fuck did I do, To get stuck with you
You’re too wide for drive-thru, And you smell like a shoe
But I’m too broke to buy something new …

Well the engine likes to flood, The car always fuckin’ stalls
And the seat cushion’s got a big rip, So a spring always pokes the balls

Plus the door locks are busted, I gotta use a fucking coat hanger
And if a girlie sees my car, There’s no chance I’ll ever bang her

Piece of shit car, I got a piece of shit car
That fuckin’ pile of shit, Never gets me very far.

So I walk up to the girl at Ballantyne Spar with two sixpacks of Mountain Dew in hand (the fact that I was buying Mountain Dew should have been alarming in itself, but anywho).

I’m hungover, I’m sweating, I have no power at home and it’s blistering out. So I’m in no mood for shit. Shit ensues.

She looks from cans of sugar-water to me, back to cans, back to me.

“Do you have changed money?”

Me: “Do you know how much the drinks cost?”

She: “No, but I do know I have no change at all,” indicating the till clearly stuffed with nothing but large bills.

And by large bills, I mean nothing smaller than a ten. Hey, I’m a Zimbabwean, gimme a break.

Me: “Well, if you don’t know how much it costs, how can you assume I’ll need change? Why don’t you just ring it up, please?”

She: “Do you have exact money for the drinks? I won’t be able to give you any change …”

Me, clearly annoyed: “No, I don’t have exact change. The stuff costs 9.90 and I have a fifty, so no, I don’t have exact money.”

She: … blank stare …

Me: “That was sarcasm.”

She: … confused, looks around, maybe for a supervisor …

Me: “Just ring up the drinks, the change doesn’t matter to me.”

So she rings up the fucking six-packs, and is pleasantly surprised when they tally up to exactly $9.90 as I’d said. I hand her a fifty, and she sheepishly says to me …

… “What’s sarcasm?”

P.S. - To hydrate either the flu or a mild hangover, try Mountain Dew. For a strong hangover, use beer. Just saying.

I’ve done some low-down dirty shit in my life. So have you, my friend. We all have.

People do bad things to the ones they love. We lie to them, we cheat, we steal from them and betray their trust. Sometimes we do these things just as they’ve been done to us. Other times we do them in revenge.

The only way we survive and move on with our lives and our loves is through forgiveness. Therapeutic as it may be to lash out, seek revenge or pull away, forgiveness is the key to happiness.

I’m not trying to sound like some guru, and this is not a sermon. I’m just saying, from my experience, that those who hurt us sometimes deserve second chances. Or third, fourth etc ad infinitum.

The same way we occasionally fuck up, so do others. If you feel slighted beyond redemption, then don’t lash out, forgive, accept, leave. Kuphela.

We can’t treat every relationship like a last chance saloon.

Hurting someone because they hurt you just perpetuates the cycle, really. Get over it, get yourself together, and try make things work with that person.

Or leave, quietly please. Damn.

I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers I hate computers!

And if you don’t hate computers, computers will hypnotise you and cut out your liver and eat it in front of your face and rip out your pituitary gland through your nasal cavity * and swallow your newborn babies and curse your name for generations.

Why, oh why, couldn’t I have been a goddamn FIREMAN?!? **

* Forgive the gore, I’ve been watching Fringe - Awe. Some. Ness.
** I’m not implying firemen can’t or don’t use computers. I just think if your job involves lugging a huge hose and shooting your splooge at burning shit, you don’t have much time for C# ***. Just saying.
*** No, I have no clue what C# is. It just sounds cool and computery.