Swimming Pools
3:37 p.m.//04.17.05

Mood: Upstairs

I remember those illogically random warm spots in the middle of swimming pools.

I'd always stand in those and claim them for my own; as if to say that I owned it, and any who dare to enter will be splashed and swatted at in a ridiculous-looking manner.

I hated those kids who would always splash everyone. Splashing is bullshit. If you splash, let me tell you -- it's bullshit. Cut the bullshit. Right-in-half, bitches.

And then there's the Yankees. Who suck. Big droopy balls. And I mean droopy. And balls as well.

Still a long way to go until they start crushing unmercifully and delightfully, and hopefully there will be buttered, toasted bagels for all.


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