stranded
6:36 p.m. - 16.07.03
I have no problems dedicating prayers to those in dire need. Those with true problems -- those with terminal illnesses, those who have passed on, those who are grieving, the homeless, abused children, etc, etc, etc...
.. but when Bean is asked to pray for someone to get a job, or worse yet-- to get a man.... it tends to devalue what I feel a prayer is for.
Granted, I know there are those who'd jump down my throat for refusing to say a prayer for any needs -- although usually its those same people who pray for their goldfish "fluffy" but alas, I remain firm in believing it vain to demand someone give such a prayer.
perhaps I'm wrong, perhaps i'm inconsiderate....
.. either way you look at it, i'm not prayin for your piddly poo. If God has a quota on the number of our prayers he is to answer, you better believe I'm not about to waste any for your ass to make more money than myself....
And yes, I know full well my reservations in hell are just about near full confirmation...
... perhaps I'm just bitter at the world... bitter because I was recently told by a friend random individual that the idea of spending a lifetime in marriage with someone like myself would be highly comparable to spending an eternity in hell... an ultimate sacrifice...
... and you all wonder why I'm so bitter..
In other news, the parents are once again out of town and due to a highly disappointing day yesterday, Bean decided she needed a shopping spree to the tune of $300 in order to make the ammends for her sad day. Why the previous day was a "sad" day is confidential -- top secret... mostly due to the fact that it would mean revealing I have imperfections, faults if you will. Mainly due to the fact that I'm blind, illiterate or perhaps even both...
.. but in order to spare myself the embarrasment, i shall simply shift back to the subject of my shopping spree...
In order for this to be possible, it required the borrowing of Fathers car...
.. all went well as bean spent her money on clothes, makeup and shoes... she happily hopped back into the car after 3 hours of shopping and made her way back home.
Little did I pay attention to the heat factor outside and the fact that my fathers car isn't able to tolerate much as its getting old.
Imagine my surprise as Beyonce, Jay-Z and I are having a grand ol time jammin when I approach a stop sign as the car sputters and decides its had enough...
.. enough of the heat, enough of the drive and perhaps even enough of my singing...
... the engine shuts down and I'm left coo'ing, woo'ing, begging and pleading with the car as each time it would start, taunt me until I shifted to "drive" which seemed to kill the engine once again....
luckily I've seen my father in this situation before and knew that persistence was the key. After nearly 10 minutes of pleading with the car, I decided to go a'la violence and beat the shit out of the steering wheel...
.. and wouldn't you know it....
... my hand started hurting... so i stopped.
It was roughly the 10th time I restarted in which I finally managed to keep the engine running and made my way safely and soundly to my home; half a block away.
bastard car....