Thursday, September 01, 2011

Johnny Rumble:
Hater Face

It's been an interesting week.  Between all the shit has happened, the amounts of liquids I've inhaled into my stomach, and the seemingly ever increasing tiffs that occur in my our house that have led up to this week of raging hormones and no-sex, my nerves have been, well, fucking shot.

I know this, because I kicked a guy out of my creeper chair today.

"Dude, get off my chair."

"Hang on, lemme finish..."

"Get th'", I don't know why, but I've been dropping letters out of my vocabulary when "The Hate" hits, "fuck outta ma chair, and lemme do thi' muttafuckin' alignment!"  Boot.

I was approached later by another co-worker.

"You got your Hater Face on."  We all have one, mine's just a stern, slightly pursed lips, eye brows lowered to my cheek bones and eyes wide for trouble kind of Hater Face.  I use this face to tell other faces to get the fuck out of mine.

"'Cause I'm fuckin' hatin' on all you motherfuckers, you irritating shit-stains, you..." I veered off into a rant that I don't remember most of what was said, but it was a five minute tiraid about how everybody could go drown in a pool of chlorine and ammoinia.

He looked at me with a bit of his Hater Face.  Sizing me up, I guess.  Didn't matter, I was squeezing the life from an already inanimate spanner.  "You cool?"

I drank in the soupy air, the non-chlorinated brake cleaner, the NOx, the hot dino-juice, and all the tension in my veins.  I softened and smiled.  "Yeah.  You cool?"  We pounded fists and went about our days, better for everybdy involved.

Lovin', and Hatin',

Johnny Rumble

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