Ignant f*cks

Well, I am sitting in business class on the train right now and there is a beautiful blond who just stripped off her pants in front of me (damn she’s wearing shorts, and no is wasn’t for me) but I am on my way home from my Uncle’s funeral. It was a great ceremony, but I wanted to see him actually buried. Bill didn’t think we’d have time to get me back to the train, but I did end up sitting in the lobby for 2 ½ hours. We are entering Union Station right now-HEY ADAM! So, I didn’t get to see him actually put in the ground, but the service was nice and we had some chicken at the reception. (That blond is now on the phone and talking about her bodyguard-must be invisible, I sure as shit don’t see him-I thing that she is one of thoses people who talks on cell phones so the people around her KNOW how important she is.) So, I didn’t get to see him put into the ground, and that is really infuriating. Wow, everybody sure gets the fuck off this train here in DC.
(Sit the f*ck down and stop walking the isle grandpa). So this weekend started on a train going to the beach. I went to the music festival and there were minimal problems. I went with my mother who apparently was traveling with the Washington DC ski club, which is a group of annoying whiny alcoholics. The act as if they are high schoolers trapped in the bodies of 50(+) year olds. They are probably nice people but you know how one can ruin it for everyone. She was almost 60 and had jet black hair cut in the same fashion as I did when I was 7. She wore a visor and screamed from the balcony at every opportunity that presented itself. I will admit, It is kind of amusing to watch a grown woman that you are not related to make a complete ass of herself and almost plummet 4 stories or so to her demise. Unfortunately, this did not happen. But Suzanne was an annoying f*ck, I must say.
I woke up Sunday morning at 8am. Not out of choice, but due to the concert that was going on down the block. Apparently, the ROCK & ROLL ½ Marathon was taking place right outside our door. Now, We were staying at this place called the Flagship that is 6 levels of motels all connected by a balcony on each floor. I get up and there are people running down the street. At 8 in the morning. To live rock that is going on a block down from my hotel. Great. Something good did occur on Sunday though, and a family friend brought it to someone’s attention that they may have a problem. An improteau intervention, you might say. All in all, it couldn’t have gone better if it had been planned. (I swear the conductor just said Assland was one of the stops;the way that all of us are looking around, I am sure I am not the only one who heard it.)
I saw Leann Rimes, and saw Journey. I was the youngest person at the Journey concert who knew the words. Sad but true. The kids there who were younger than me were just there to get drunk as it turns out. I wasn’t. Wow, the sun sure does reflect off of the Potomac River. I am blind. I can still type. Even with this giant fucking blister on my middle finger. (Grandpa is doing laps again, now with grandma. Isn’t that cute? I thought they got thrown off the train a while ago.)
Somebody get the f*cking retard out of the deep end. Monday morning, I got woken up to yelping from the parking lot. I was sure it was a drunk from the ski club, but no. Apparently, A family was staying at the same hotel, and decided to go for a dip in the pool, complete with their mentally retarded family member. I would say child, but this "person" looked like they were in their 40’s. Apparently, the fat kid was playing shark and trying to pull the man into the deep end. This in turn caused the man to start yelping. Yes, Yelping. Sounding like some friggin baby seals getting clubbed. And with him facing the motel directly, his yelps echoed. Not to be funny, but it sounded like Sloth from the Goonies. So, I started to think about this for the next 30 minutes while I watched the cruel fat kid torture his brother or whatever. Yeah, I probably would have done it too.
About this time, I realize how cynical I’ve become. At work, at school, at play. Okay, there is no school, but who the f*ck knows that-I am actually considering going back in a year or two and possibly getting my masters. I was talking about this the other day with someone at work, and the same thing was said. I am trying to get ahead, but while in the slow day to day routine, I lose my patience. This is not good, dear patient boy. I think a golf cart just ran into the side of the train outside of my window. Yeah, they are here for grandma and grandpa-apparently, she’s got a hip off or something. Do they ever do the windows on these trains? Just water spotting on every window of every train. I’ve come to realize that I hate Richmond. There are some decent people here that I spend my time with, and there are some decent people here that I’ve not gotten the chance to meet yet. And, yes there are some deceitful/arrogant/snobby/needs to wash their ass people too. The people are not the problem, it is the area as a whole. Take these people elsewhere and I am sure that the assholes here might change their perspective. But probably still remain assholes. I think the major problem with Richmond is not anything in the physical location of Richmond or its periphery. My problem with Richmond is within me. I got about 2 years left here tops. Anything more and you’ll see me on the news for going on some bender, knocking over a liquor store, and mowing down a few cops with a stolen car before driving through a mall. Which is another thing wrong with Richmond-the damned cops. I can’t go anywhere without being pulled if a cop gets behind me-even when I am not doing anything wrong. And when I am involved in a car accident, cracker lady cop (who did look good, so that explains why she was a bitch) catches an attitude with me and asks if I "NEED TO BE RESCUED." Yeah, I need some mouth to *#$& resuscitation-can you handle it? Damn, this place sucks bad and I need out. I’ve lived here all of my life except for 2 years in WV, 2 years in Newport News/Lee Hall and a year in Mclean. (Woodbridge/Occuocon Marina looks nice from here) I went to middle school 2 blocks from where I currently live. I shop at the same Walmart I did when I went to middle school. I look out the front window of our apartment into a parking lot of a former department store (now church) where my parents had the fight that ended the marriage. I must get out of here, but there are a few things that keep me rooted. My friends, My family, and my job (hey, there are 2 deer). Yet, I don’t want to leave my job. I do want to transfer to another department or another position with my department, but at this time I am fine with my current position. I might even be happy at the beach.