So hey the quaint little Main Street café slash bar where I'd normally be drinking some hazy india pale ale and writing a super juicy blog post about relationship advice right about now closed early to host a goddamn baby shower can you fuckin believe it? Those bastards really got a lot of nerve don't they, pocketing what I imagine is probably several hundred dollars for a private party and telling me to take my maybe fifteen or twenty and fuck right off to some other establishment. I don't think I'll be recovering from this theoretical slap in the face for a long time, and definitely not before that quaint little café slash bar is theoretically reduced to a smoking rubblous pile of broken boards and bricks and bones sometime tonight if it turns out that I end up coming back with a can of gas and the blowtorch I use to light my cigars just like every other self-respecting mountain man out here in these parts lights his cigars. Hey are you even listening to me? Are you fuckin high again dude? Great. Just great. Here I am trying to work my way through some pretty serious trauma and you're just sitting there in a daze staring off at the fuckin sunset like you've never seen the sky catch those kinds of colors before but you and me both know you totally have like at least several hundred fuckin times if not more. Oh yeah? Well in that case you can fuck right off too. I didn't ask for your opinion just your attention you asshole. The fuck did you just say? Oh sure. Whatever man. Yeah I'm outta here. Fuck you.
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Dear Diary: The chipmunk I recently befriended and have spent not an insignificant amount of time confiding in has just today left me deserted and bereft of companionship and I am quite simply at a loss for words to express how I feel about all this. Well not completely at a loss of course because otherwise I wouldn't be writing these ones. But you know what I mean. You're the only one who's always listened to me anyway, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking talking to a fuckin chipmunk all that time. His name was Chapman. Chapman the Chipmunk. What? Yeah I know it sounds cheesy but don't look at me, I'm not the one who gave Chapman the Chipmunk that cheesy fuckin name. But that's beside the point anyway. The point is I thought Chapman the Chipmunk was there for me and then one day Chapman the Chipmunk just fuckin wasn't. Figures doesn't it? Every single chipmunk I've ever opened up to in my entire life ends up screwing me over like this. It makes me want to never open up to another chipmunk ever again. I can't take it anymore. I feel like going off and doing something really violent you know? Like I think I want to go set something on fire. Yeah I want to go burn something right down to the fuckin ground. Yeah hey where'd I put that blowtorch, the one I use to light my cigars? Yeah gimme that. And I know I've got a can of gas around here somewhere. Yeah there it is good deal. Cool c'mon now we're going back down into town for to raise some hell you and me both. What? No I'm fine to drive shut the fuck up what're you talking about? I didn't ask for your opinion just your attention you asshole. Christ what is it with everyone today? Can't a guy just have some peace and quiet and a quaint little Main Street café slash bar to drink ale and write a blog post at once in a—holy fuckin shit, look at that sunset! Goddamn, have you ever seen the sky catch those kinds of colors before?
Chapman took a job at a gift shop in West Yellowstone. Free room and board all summer.
Well go figure. I interviewed for that position and thought I had a pretty good chance at getting it. Fucking chipmunks man.
Pilot and I call them bastards.
It's a short story.
They're even more annoying than bluejays if you ask me. Both try to steal my food when I'm cooking at my campsite, but only the bluejays leave me alone when I start throwing rocks.
There he goes, trying to piss me off.
Have you considered feeding the jays? Corvids are competitors with bastards. If you befriend them, they will probably dive-bomb their competition. Asa bonus you'll have someone to talk to again, what with Chapman gone and all.
I don't know, I prefer to eat my food and not share it with anything else. For what it's worth when I throw stuff at birds I'm throwing warning shots because I know they'll get the message and leave me alone. When the chipmunks show up I'm aiming for their cute little heads because, as you've noted, they are bastards.
And you wonder why Champman took off with your blow torch.
My sunset is broken but I'm blaming the baby shower for that. Or then again is it the Chapman the Chipmunks fault? You should have never befriended him. Now we ALL suffer!
The collateral damage is even worse than I had expected! Maybe a !BEER will help!
Have we learned something here? Nothing except that one should always take chipmunks seriously.
I usually avoid learning lessons at all costs but in this case I think you're right.
View or trade
BEER.Hey @insaneworks, here is a little bit of
BEERfrom @brandt for you. Enjoy it!Do you want to win SOME BEER together with your friends and draw the
BEERKING.Thanks @brandt! Beer always helps.
You use a blowtorch? I usually just stick my face in a bonfire. It makes shaving a lot easier as well.
That's a good idea but I don't think I could be a self-respecting mountain man without my beard. All the other Colorado mountain men with their cigars and blowtorches and beards would laugh me out of town if they saw me walking around with a charred bonfire face. !BEER
View or trade
BEER.Hey @wannabescrapper, here is a little bit of
BEERfrom @brandt for you. Enjoy it!Do you want to win SOME BEER together with your friends and draw the
BEERKING.The ignominy of it all!
Ignominy indeed! They'll be sorry when everything they ever loved goes up in flames!