Overthunk

Oddly, today I had an incident on the road which makes me wonder if I am just being told by the universe to get over the whole being called fat thing. I'm driving along, this woman is behind me, not paying attention so she doesn't slow down until the last second, meanwhile leaning on the horn (blaming me for traffic?) even though everyone else on the entire highway is slowing down. She gets way too close to my tail, swerves over to the left onto the shoulder, then cuts back in front of me, flips me off and makes a gesture with both arms like she's saying how fat I am. So remember kids, as long as the driver you're blaming is fat, all your actions are excused on the road. It's carte fucking blanche, fat folk!

"Why do people ruin perfectly good haunted house stories with fucking?" -- Anony the Mous (reacting to some bad erotica)

Ever envision yourself just punching some cutoff driver in the head at a stoplight? Or, slamming rude grocery store women with a can of baked beans after they force you aside in the canned foods aisle? Yes, this is unbecoming and hardly appropriate in our age of fretting over a wrongly turned breath at one of another cultural persuasion. But the images flagrantly present themselves in my head, nonetheless. The first time I recall it happening, I was maybe 16. Being a large mammal, I was walking down some street in Washington D.C. on a trip and some guy shouted something out about how I'd better move my fat ass out of the road, cause he didn't know how he was gonna miss it, or something. Anyway, I like rocks and I just happened to have a nice, smooth round granite rock in my hand, that probably weighed 5 pounds. Enough to brain someone with through the back window of a pickup truck, surely. As the truck slowly pulled past, I envisioned myself hurling it with Olympic pre