you make me sick

So there I was this morning sitting still on the parkway…as usual…caught in what the radio called a “traffic pocket,” which reminded me of hot pockets and how I’ve not yet tried the breakfast kind but I totally love the ham and cheese ones because the ham is cooked like I like it and how I wasn’t sure if I was really willing to risk microwaved eggs but how McDonald’s probably microwaves their eggs and I’ve eaten them without getting sick and so on and so forth (my stream of consciousness is devoid of punctuation)…

WHEN SUDDENLY…I saw the most beautifully manicured hand (complete with French manicure and strand of pearls) emerge from the window of a fancy schmancy car and…

FLICK A CIGARETTE in my direction!!! Gross! Cigarettes are disgusting. Smoking totally negates the mani and the pearls. This chic would have been better off just skipping the young Jackie O. façade and going with the wicked witch look instead, cuz that’s what she’s going to look like in a few short years anyway when she peers into the mirror, mirror on the wall and sees how those pouty lips have shriveled up into a permanent little suck pucker.


Now should I care this much about a complete stranger’s well-being and appearance? Probably not. But she flicked the damn thing basically at me. All lady-like too like she was effin Miss America tossing tootsie rolls from a parade float. I just happen to think that if you’re gonna be nasty, why not go all the way? Jam the stub into your ash tray, trash up your own car like you’re trashing up your lungs, and don’t bother trying to keep up appearances…cuz you are DISGUSTING.

And that’s how I really feel.