Neanderpundit

Now, I don’t want to dwell on the expressway issues I have to face every day I must travel, it just mmakes my blood pressure skyrocket.

On the other hand, there was a moment today that is worth mentioning. I was heading northbound quite early on 294, and coming into the 163rd street toll plaza, there was quite a backup. Traffic was not moving at all, when it was doing anything. Along in the safety lane comes a decrepit K car, knocking down barriers and plowing roadcones out of the way at an alarming rate. the driver rounds the curve to find that her progress has been blocked by a concrete median which will not yield to her K car.

So she stops.
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may god have mercy on my soul.

How do I know it’s gonna be fucktard friday? Well, I have to drive through Chicago to get where I’m going today. Nuff said.

In other news, Zack Moussfucktard is taking a long walk to a little concrete box. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. I know a lot fo folks would have liked to have seen him executed, but the fact remains that if he was he’d be a martyr and his name would be a rallying cry to splodeydopes everywhere.

No, he’s gonna sit in a little room, the size of your crapper. Smaller, if you have a nice crapper. And his crapper is gonna be in there with him. SO he’ll have to smell the results of eating all that fine institutional food. He will be able to exercise for an hour each day, and he’ll be in the box for the rest of the day.

The cooks will know who he is. They’ll make him nutritious meals that include hogmeat bullion. Guards and visitors will slip the cooks cash to turn their backs while they jerk off in old zack’s stew. Maybe even some thinly sliced hog asshole will find it’s way into a sandwich.

The food will give him digestive trouble, and he’ll have to live with that. He’ll lose his teeth, and only be able to eat food which has been blenderized. Some guard will figure out that he can make some heavy cash by letting him exercise in an area where some 9/11 families have come “visiting”. He’s also a delusional paranoid schizophrenic, so the cell will itself be hellish torture to him. He’ll bask in the goaty smell of trans-3-methyl-2 hexenoic acid, the smell of schizophrenia, which he no doubt sweats from every pore, and after thirty or forty years, if he doesn’t choke himself to death on his own feces, he’ll die. That should be just enough time for hell to make a special place for him.