I Came Here To Murder You

I'm watching "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" on HBO, which I get as some package deal. I just got off the phone with Nikki. I'm tired, but not too tired anymore. If you've seen the movie, you know the main character's girlfriend breaks up with him and he takes it kind of hard. Guys do that. They get their hearts broken and they take it badly.

Anyway, the guy, whose name I haven't caught yet, goes to Hawaii to get away and he runs into his ex girlfriend there. She asks what he's doing there (as if he doesn't have a right to go to Hawaii), and he says, "I came here to murder you."

I don't know if it was because I'm tired, because I've had two Pepsi Throwbacks (delicious), or because it was really my kind of humor, but I laughed my fucking head off.

If you know me, you know I would say something like that. What's especially funny is that tonight I told Nikki to ask me anything she wanted. What did she ask? "Did you ever kill anybody?"

She's not the first person to ask me this.

I'm kind of soured on the whole human experience. When you feel a bit down, run into the ground, betrayed and belittled, blame the human race. When you have just four bullets left and ten people to shoot, aim for the gas tanks. (Learned that from video games.)

In other words: Call things as you see them and take care of business. You owe it to yourself.

I'm babbling.

I came here bearing gifts. Where would you like them? The head or the chest? Stomach? You just bleed out from that one. Tears the other organs up. No, no. The head is usually pretty safe. If the bullet goes screwy and just bounces once or twice before exiting, and it doesn't kill you, you'll probably be a vegetable and not remember a damn thing. So what will it be?

You and me, Lord. You and me.