Fourth Post

I went to the fair. I rode six rides. Six is a good number, not a round number. Not the number of times that people ride when they are counting. I don't know any of the people in the fair, but they don't live here. I believe in that six degrees of separation stuff, and six degrees is too damn close.

Third Post

What have I gotten myself into? I should put this out there right away. I. Don't. Fucking. Like. Cats. Or. People. I was trying to get the damn lady to go away. I didn't think I would be scheduled into her day. G-d damnit. I don't have the patience for this. Did I mention that I don't like cats? I mean, what the hell was I supposed to do? I answered my door, and what do I get for my trouble?
"I heard a gun.
It wouldn't be fun.
if I should die,
not say goodbye,
and leave my cats alone
without a home."
First off. Alone does not rhyme with home. Second off, screw the gun, you're gonna die because you're fucking OLD. And Third. Why did I agree to look after her cats?

Second Post

It's raining, but nobody in this town seems to notice the rain or...well...anything. I think it is the abundance of alcohol. I have to say that I did alright picking this place. Nobody would have expected it from me. I don't drink.
Sloshing drunks aside, people are hypocrites. When the line is black and white between "social drinkers" and alcoholics, you know it's polite society bullshit. I heard some cop at work today telling the other parking attendant not to give some drunk his keys. I say, if the disgusting idiot wants to kill himself around a fucking tree, let him. Nobody here would notice anyways. They certainly wouldn't say anything about it. That's the other thing I love about this town: everybody minds their own business.