the birdman cometh

Banter? I just met her...




I edit video on my compter and listen to music on my headphones at night. That is all I do after work. Nothing distracts me except the thoughts in my head and the dirty clothes..floor. I never hear the phone and when I do I have to be feeling spunky to even think of answering it. But last night was different. It was 10:30 or so for I was molded and formed into my usual scoliosis inducing humpbacked computering position trying to will the rendering process to hurry the fuck up, when all of a sudden I heard the loudest screech followed by metal and plastic and metal slamming into metal I have ever heard. I thought for a split second that someone had crashed into my apartment...on the second floor. I jumped up and looked out my window onto Ellis St. and there was a brand new, gray Jeep Cheerokee attempting, and succeding to reverse and drive back onto the road like nothing had happened. All I could see was the sportcoated arms of a man desperatley churning hand over hand hoping his wheel would still steer and praying his reality, in fact, wasn't. That handicapped permit will not save you today, sir. He plowed into a parked truck one floor down and a sidewalk away from my window. About 20 minutes later I walked to the store and there were three cops in front of my building along with the mangled Cherokee and imbalanced driver. I walked back across the street where the cops had started the breathealizer test. I think he got a free nights' lodging on the City.

sez jefe on 10:03 AM link me

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