You have to read this... a horrible trom has occured. It was a Wednesday... the rain was thick, like a blind date, and I was once again walking to my favorite liquor store for a bottle of Ridge brand Zin. The store was empty that day... like a ghost town on holliday, and there were only two lonley employees working. One of them was a lankely twenty-something named paul... he's my favorite. He gave me 16% discounts on most red wines, and had a wicked attuiude that reminded me of myself back in the day. I broused the California section, looking for a suitable red wine for the evening... but then, out of nowhere a very fat, quite strange lady came out of nowhere. She was wearing a red dress, humming a tune that sounded faintly like the Beatles. I approached her and asked her what she was shopping for. She said It was a rainy day and she wanted nothing more than a red wine to go with supper, so I suggested the Ridge Zin. She said she had never had it, but I explained that it was simply fantastic and that if she was looking for a zinfendale to go with any kind of pork that it would be a killer combo. It was just then that I heard a loud crack... like that of a small cannon going off in a hallway. Paul was screaming... I lept across the room to see what had happened. But when i saw him he was covered with blood. His hand wan missing, and you could clearly see his bone just portruding through his skin. My f**king God I said, What had happened? But he seemed too incoherent to speak, the blood loss was amazing. I called 911 and the cops came within what seemed like seconds. I turned to the fat lady screaming, "what kind of messed up world are we living in????" It seems that terrorists had hidden a M1 explosive in one of the Merlots... and that poor Paul had been the victim. Blood was everwhere... the store was covered. I looked for a towel but there was nothing, so I tore off my shirt to cover the mess. The medics then took over, but I was reeling. Holy shit... what has happened to this world, i thought... the blood covering my entire body. As the sirens cryed I made my way to the door. A policeman stopped me on the way asking my name. I was too stunned to awnser any words... I only nodded and pushed past... this was true tragedy. Yet as I reached the door I noticed the fat lady, crying as she smoked her Moroboro ciragette... I reached out to pat her on the back, but she acted as if she didnt even feel it. And as I made my way to the parking lot I cried... true tears of sorrow, for I had seen Hell. Hell, just as real as any movie, and poor Paul lay dead in the middle. Sure I made it out alive, but I wish I hadnt. The visions of that dark day will haunt me for the rest of my life. I am a broken man, sprayed with chards of broken glass, and blood. My God... what will become, what will become if this horrible secne??? A few days later i get a call, it is the fat lady. She wanted to talk about the incodent. I tell her all the bullshit things about fate and the like, but she doesnt buy it, so I ask her why she really called. She babbles, about death and love... says she wants to have sex with me... but i just hang up on her. After all, she is just another fat girl, and that Paul guy is already dead and nobody gives a shit about him. I pick up a revolver and put it to my head... "click"... but no bang... I forgot to load the chamber. And so I went to my computer.
Paragraphs r ur friend.
that poor bottle of innocent Merlot :bawl:
bah. blood is cheaper than good wine.
Hmm, I believe it all exepct for the gun part. :lookaround: Sorry, though. That's fucking terrible. :cort:
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I mean the fact that your freind got blown up. :(