Thursday, November 3, 2016

Myra's Dryer

Let me make this clear, lady. I have dibs on that dryer that I've been sitting in front of for a half hour waiting for some idiot's wash to finish and God help him if he isn't here one second after that buzzer goes off.
I'm going too have to see his butt crack while he empties his mess, so I'm pissed as it is. If you think I'm going to just let you shove your pile of bacteria into MY dryer you are de-loo-shun-al.
You see this ring? My estranged husband gave it to me, the same guy I winged in the shoulder with this piece I have under my laundry bag when I caught him with some bimbo at the Alamo Motel. You may have read about it. I got off-- temporary insanity.
I was in the Seals and mentored that guy in the movie Sniper, for which I did not get a cent. So I am not a happy person. But I can see the future. I see you moving your fat ass from my line of vision or perhaps, doctors removing slugs from that tribute to lard you call your body.
Now, if you want, I'll repeat the whole thing in Spanish. Comprende?

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