Once upon a time, not too long ago, a bolt of lightening streaked from the sky and struck the ground a mere 5 feet from me. It happened as I had finished training and was packing up my stuff and putting up the top on the vehicle I had at the time. Now, most people would have been frightened or surprised by this, but not me. As I stood there, gazing at the charred blackness that once had been green, fertile, grass and the smoke that arose from it's destruction, I knew what the lightening was after. For others, a strike of lightening from the sky would have been a terrifying event, but for me, I knew what that lightening was after. It wanted my attention. And the only thing that surprised me was that the bolt didn't stroll itself into a building and write some fiction about me on a piece of paper to try to get it.
This memory was brought to you by the go f*ck yourselves!!!! committee. Because f*cking themselves is pretty much the only type of f*cking they'll ever know.
