I wish I had a big red button under a plastic flip-top safety, that when pressed once initiates a mechanical speaker preparation procedure. No matter where I am, two speakers the size of grain silos would rise from the ground, towering over me, dark and treacherous-like. A deep, gut-wrenching hum will emanate from within. After pressing the button a second time, accessing my way out of arming mode straight into fire, a planet shattering “Fuck Off,” would blast out of the silo-speakers in a way that would push an entire continent off the surface of the planet and away from its gravitational pull.
I kind of feel better knowing I’m not the only one having one of those sort of days. However, I did utter what was probably an earth-shattering “selfish bitch!” in Hays Hall laundry room just about 20 minutes ago. Preppy girls should NOT piss me off.