bullet proof

Came home early from work. I was just a wee bit too tired to stick it out for the day in this ridiculous Ally McBeal suit and heels, being gnawed at by this morning’s state of affairs. Please, God, don’t let Kitten eat a bullet. She would, Ya know. So, cabbed it home and first thing was first: I took a tour of the living room to assess the damage.

A brief inspection yielded several finds, including half a dozen BB’s scattered throughout the room. And now all I have to say is,

You fucking terrorized my house with a BB gun?? Sheesh, man. If you’re going to be up and about at 4:30 AM, you should at least be armed with a decent caliber gun. What is wrong with you? You’re no thug. You should be ashamed.

Oh yeah, I talk tough, don’t I? Well, I’m not. I was scared into numbness this morning, standing there in my robe unable to do anything while my roommate cleaned up the mess, called the police and filed the report. Well, I made breakfast. That’s something.

You can’t start off a day of being a victim of random violence on an empty stomach, now can ya?

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