up my nose

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he spiny box puffer fish inflates itself when threatened. This is how I react when I feel thretened.....

I was walking through Chinatown on a chilly winter night. The air smelt of ginsing and opium as I treked down wentworth trying to avoid the stupid chinamen that just stand in the middle of the sidewalk and have contests to see who can walk at the slowest pace. I had had a very depressing day and was puffing furiously on a cracked meerschaum pipe I had pulled from my bag before I got off the train. The pipe was burning my hand so I quickly moved it from the bowl to the stem. The tobacco was cheap but effective. It reeked of foul whiskey and smegma. I shouldn't have been surprised since I bought it at walgreens. I was jonesing bad for some high grade latakia mixed with a bit of perique tobacco (the kind that permeates the air with a simmiliar fragrance to the virgin mary's shaved crotch, God damn). Yet, cavendish would have to do for tonight. Don't you just hate the taste of cheap fire cured cavendish (wait no one I know smokes a tobacco pipe, just take my word for it).

The black dog in my head was crying and the monkey on my back was hungry so I felt souless. Tears started to well up in my eyes. My pipe was just about to go out as I came up to a shabbily dressed black man with a dixie cup lying beside him. I had exactly seventy-five cents in my pocket so I felt it might make me feel a "little" better about my worthless self if I gave this "poor soul" my change. I gently dropped the coins in the cup and heard the change fall against paper and metal.
The man looked up. He was as black as Rosie O'Donnels soul with a set of two bulging white eyes. He stared at me for a moment, coldly and said "You could have given me more den dat. I gotsa famlie to feed!".
The line between normalacy and insanity is a thin one for me, but it dissapeared completely as he uttered this declaration. The blood in my brains turned into liquid cocaine as I felt a wave of energy come over me. "Fuck you, you fucking bastard. I'm going to fucking kill you.", I screamed taking my foot and knocking his dixie cup of change in the street.
"Try to pick it up, I fucking dare you you son-of-bitch. Your mother sucks dick in hell! Fuck you! I'm gonna burn your fucking cardboard box down you fagot! Go snort a bag of drop dead mother fucker! I hope your cousin gets A.I.D.S! I'm gonna come on your sister like the fucking whore she is! You hear me you fucking piece of shit? Fuckkkkk Youuuuuu!", ending this psychotic utterance by spitting on the ground.
All hell broke loose in this poor but greedy bum's eyes. I could see a look of sheer terror. For this bum it wasn't heroin, crack, or a ham sandwich that mattered to him now, it was survival. He was parylzed except for his lips which convulsed in total fear. A part of his soul and being had just died.
"However, besides that, have a nice night", I said walking away with the biggest shit eating grin on my face you could imagine.

Message: Don't fuck with David when he isn't feeling good. Especially when he is smoking shitty tobacco and he's out of vicodin. Oh, and always wear a condom when your fucking the Virgin Mary!