The other night, I was driving downtown, looking to score some ice cream. But what I got instead was anything but cold. That sounded like a line from
World's Wildest Police Videos, didn't it? Anyway, I saw an apartment building on fire. It was great! For some reason, you don't think to feel sorry for the people who live there. You're too into the moment, enjoying the show. Fire is mesmerizing. I'll have to remember arson as an option the next time I'm looking to kill someone without all the guilt. Sociopaths are so lucky. Sigh.
"This wrong way driver just bought himself a one way ticket to a dead end jail cell. Damn, I'm good!"Not only do I not feel sorry for those people, I actually envy them. Who wouldn't want to go out like that, man? I would've been up on that roof, doing one of those movie-stuntman-on-fire staggering falls off the edge. I'd make sure a friend was filming the whole thing too, so they could sell it to
Faces of Death. Give me undeserved fame or give me death. Or both.
It hurts so good!
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What a coincidence. I wanted ice cream that night too. Peculiarly I was downtown and my apartment caught fire. It was because of the cookie shaped baseball mitt pot holder that I left next to my curling iron when it was heating up. I looked out my window and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was this guy with a huge smile on his face. I could even see his teeth. He seemed to be enjoying the whole thing. I thought to myself: "How Peculiar." And that was it.
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