Mr. Iason Miers
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Below are the 2 most recent journal entries recorded in the "Mr. Iason Miers" journal:
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05:06 pm
[Link] | How does it feel to treat me like you do?
When you laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are.
I thought I was mistaken
I thought I heard your words
Tell me how do I feel
Tell me now how do I feel?
( *** )
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11:59 am
[Link] | I saw a car crash today.
Actually, that's not terrible accurate. I heard a car crash today, the beautiful fthunk! of metal crunching into metal. I know it was metal because of how certain the thud was. There probably wasn't much damage to it, by the sound of it. Metal may be damn expensive to replace, but if you can pound out the dent, it doesn't get into as bad of shape as plastic. Sure, plastic may be cheaper and quicker to fix, but as I said...I don't think either car got much damage because of it being metal.
FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY DOES THE PHONE RINGING HAVE TO BE SO DAMN ANNOYING?!
Anyway. Cars crashed, I looked back into my rearview and... I'm not going to lie. I laughed. I laughed hard. And why not? It was a minor fender bender, someone stepping on the gas at a light before the car in front of it had. The back car couldn't have been going any faster than 10. What would that get you? A bit of whiplash at worst? And as I said, I really don't think the cars suffered that much. In fact, the only thing I'd be worried about is how fast the driver that got hit got out of the car. I didn't hear any gunshots, but still. You never know how good someone could be with their fists. I'm just glad it wasn't me that ended up having to deal with that.
What about me, though? There's nothing to say. The dishes need done. I need to put away the laundry. Sam was supposed to come down this weekend, but he has a swim meet, which means it'll be me that's making the trip. All so I can see him for an hour or two after the meet, when he's exhausted and not talking much? Whatever. I guess it's the price you pay. I was thinking about bringing him back with me, but for what? For less than twenty-four hours in L.A. before he has to head back home? What good would it do?
Greg's been pulling me along with his workout during this visit, which I'm thankful for if only because it gets me access to the Senate gym. Where better for an agent to be, right? These fuckers are going to need a job once the general public gets fed up with them. Honestly, I hope most of them curl up and die, but if they don't? I hope they have a good fucking story to tell. Is this what Obama meant when he said he would bring about hope? God, I really am getting to be a cynical sonuva bitch.
Current Music: Don Hneley - All She Wants To Do Is Dance
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