Monday, November 22, 2004

List of Recent Smitings

In the business of unholy smiting as I am, I have decided to put to blog my most recent smitings in no particular order:

I went to the bathroom today (a popular pastime). As I opened the door upon exiting, I nearly ran into a man heading into the restroom, presumably on the same errand I had completed moments before. However the major difference between he and I was that he was in the process of talking on a cellphone. Restated: As he was going into a public restroom, he was talking on a cellphone. Now I don't really care about people on cellphones at restaurants or grocery lines. As long as they don't slow everything down, I don't complain (much). But the line has to be drawn somewhere, and I'm drawing it right in front of the bathroom door. There are times, perhaps few and far between, when we do not need to be totally accessible. Therefore, I called upon the forces of nature itself, resulting in the incarnation of my will: a small screaming mexican cleaning lady, running down the hall and smashing cellphone bathroom man from my sight with a mighty mop of justice.

The other evening I was driving through a nearby town when I encountered what can only be described as "punk ass kids" riding bicycles down the street. I'm all in favor of bicycles being granted rights as vehicles as long as they aren't in my way. In this case, the four young gentlemen were strung out across the street like it was punk ass kid parade day and they were the grand poobahs of the punk ass kid army. I followed them a moment, innaccurately confident that they would move to the side when they realized they were blocking traffic. When they did not, I proceeded to pass them in the other lane. It could have ended there, in peace, were not one of this gang of misanthropic asstards with the collective brainpower of my futon to yell out what an asshole I was for not confining my speed to under five miles an hour to pander to their overly inflated sense of self worth. Naturally, I stopped my car, climbed onto the hood, and raised my arms to the sky in a gathering of my smiteful will. On this occasion, my will was manifested in a demented, cackling homeless vagabond. The hobo, avatar of my august will, thrust his shopping cart of infinite truth into the lead punk ass kid. Having smote him to the ground, the deadly vagrant flew threw the air, a tangle of arms, legs, and years of accumulated filth, to flying tackle the remaining three bikers in one fell swoop. I continued on my way, assured that my own personal brand of justice was being well served.

In other non-specific incidents, I have smote three hundred and seventy-six people within the last week for not properly indicating their path of travel with a prompt turn signal. Unfortunately, people in this area do not seem to understand the concept of non-verbal communication with other drivers (or verbal for that matter, I have yet to see a non-turn-signal-user shouting out the window to alert other drivers of their intentions). I hope that by enforcing natural selection through various manifestations of my powers in the forms of crazed midget armies, the undead, Rosie O'Donnell, killer roombas, and many, many others, Darwinism will prevail. Either the people of Southern California will become better drivers, or I will become the only living resident of Southern California.


Blogger Riker said...

Ray, that's a little weak. 376? I kill 376 people every time I sneeze. That aside, the means by which your smitings are applied unto the infidels are quite remarkable. That aside, You link dind't seem to work for me. Perhaps I need to smite it.

November 22, 2004 at 10:33 PM  
Blogger Spectacular J (known as Hater-aide the Mighty) said...

Hey I just stumbled across your blog, and I think its fun reading. If you have a free minute and you want to check out mine, it is ALL FAIRNESS. Hope to hear from you.

November 22, 2004 at 10:46 PM  
Blogger Skeletor McKnuckles said...

Link is fixed now. Really wasn't that important anyway, but in case Efram the retarded hillbilly janitor finds access to them internets, and needs to know what a roomba is... his world is now a safer place.

November 23, 2004 at 9:34 AM  

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