Women. They are like cars, yes? In that retarded, single entendre sort of way? “Fast,” “Headlamps,” “Smooth Carriage,” “Wheel,” “Horns.” All very easy to understand. “Zero to Bitch in 30 seconds,” also fine, even clever. However, I have the accruing understanding that, unlike a car, you cannot part a woman out and leave her burning in a lot in Hunt’s Point.
That said, the fact remains that I am currently embroiled in a bitter rivalry with a plastic suit that is hanging in a locker at the gym that I frequent. This also means that I am also in a fight with the woman who owns the suit by proxy. I have never exchanged words with her, mostly because she and the suit are never together at the same time. This might suggest to some of you who are into Magritte paintings or whatever that the woman IS the suit, but I think it’s mostly because we go to the gym at different times (the woman and me, not the suit and me, as the suit is ALWAYS there).
Given that I have a basic understanding of the legal ramifications of assault and whatever happens when that escalates into other things, I have basically not much other recourse than to do the one thing that anyone in my situation and demographic would do: start a blog about it. So in short, welcome to this blog.
