Kit's Blog

The memoirs of someone who isn't out of the ordinary

     It was a beautiful summer day in my little neighborhood. The temperature was somewhere between where you'd like it to be and where you've never seen it before, meaning that it wasn't too bad. Some kids were off to the side playing in their sprinkler and I was walking along as one little droplet trickled down the pubic hair of the bitch in front of me and landed on the sidewalk. No, it wasn't from the sprinkler. And no, by bitch, I don't mean a less-than-agreeable person, I mean a dog. I was barefoot, and I walked right through it. I didn't give it a second thought... or even a first really, because at the time I didn't notice. I returned home after walking back from the bookstore, and slipped on my sandals for something a little farther away, and have since had the worst foot odor known to man.
     This is one of those narratives where I seem to have both a godlike perspective and a memory that crushes all those that oppose it. Well, I'd like to think so anyway. To be honest, that's just my guess; I have no clue why the hell my feet smell like shit on a stick left in the sun for a week. But I guess it's all a good example of the way things just have a tendwncy to go for me. ...huh? Oh, internal editor's warning: there's going to be some typos in this. Like back there a sentence or two, where I misspelled "tendency" as "tendwncy"? Yeah, I'm typing at the public library and well, someone thought it would be funny to snap off everything past the quote button. There doesn't seem to be much left in the way of uh... anything but letters and numbers and space. I'm actually copying the new lines from another document because I couldn't figure out any other way to do it without the enter button. So uhhh... yeah, watch for that.
     I guess all this can be really traced back to that one day where I was goito and this lady was like "Back off!" and so I was... wait... what happened? I typed like three paragraphs! Where the hell did? Oh god damnit! The little timer thing popped up to tell me that I have five minutes left and didn't go away until I smacked something right. God damnit. I really need to learn how to touch type, anyway howmuch time to I have left? A minute?! Wait, where the hell can I save this? uhhh... uhhhhh.... I didn't bring a floppy I don't fucking have one of those USB drive things.... uhhhh shit! shit shit shit Hey! Lady! Listen can you make this thing last like.... another ten minutes? .... Well fuck the other people I'm writing my memoirs! .... Listen I've only got a seco