mayo: hurricane fighter plane
mayo thompson. or the bad lieutenant.
Texas calling. I am standing in line. I am on the way to a second coronary. The bitch with the smudged mascara and tobacco stained teeth sneers at me over greasy stainless steel and goes for the tried and tested cock-shrink script:
\”You want mayo with that ?\”
No. I want her brains – assuming she fucking has any – pooling on the slippery floor where infants skid before meeting their maker on a Friday afternoon jaunt to what will soon be affectionately known as the Tombs. Fucking imbecile. Stupid bitch.
Let\’s not fuck about. I have had my share of moronic paid occupation. I do not like her. In fact, I want to reach out over that stainless steel canopy and dip her fucking face in a fryer. I kid you not. I am weary of playing games. \”Twister\”. Scissor Sisters on parole. Fuck her. Stupid, IQ challenged c*nt. I am not making this shit up. I have dressed \’poor\’, and paid through the nose to eat badly, for far too fucking long. I am poised on the lip of taking her down for good. Stupid bitch.
Hey. Checking my hair out in the mirror. Don\’t get me wrong. I\’m one of the good guys. Harvey Keitel on his fucking honeymoon.
Why is it I get the impression no-one likes Richard Hell ?