A few days ago, after finishing my workout, I went to a small diner and ate three steak sandwiches. After that, I was overcome with the desire to hurt somebody. I mean bloody their nose, blacken their eyes and kick them in the balls.
You ever have that happen to you? You ever became enraged for no reason whatsoever? I decided it would be a good idea to pound on the young musclehead a few feet away from me in the diner. Then, it hit me. I suddenly realized that if I went after him, the bastard would probably fight back!
I hate that part. When they fight back. I’d truly kick a lot of ass if I could find a steady supply of people who wouldn’t fight back.
Oh well. My mood instantly evaporated. I gave the musclehead a friendly greeting, tipped the waitress and left the restaurant with no broken bones or bruises.
What was that all about? I really don’t know. I haven’t a clue why that sudden rage overcame me. Plus, I don ‘t have a clue why I’m writing about it.
So, I’ll stop. I’ll go off on another tangent.