Shine A Light (Right In My Fucking Eyes)

I try really hard on ZFS! to not get all bitchy about life's petty annoyances because, and I'm sure you'll agree, there are already a ton of blogs out there that are like that and most of them are to one degree or another like watching cranky paint dry. Which is not to say that I think my blog is better than anyone else's... for that to be the case, there would have to be a lot less grammatical errors and pictures of a hairy, fat guy... but still, overloading on the bitter diatribes gets old and, in my opinion, it's much more fun to talk about fry dips and silly pictures of food that looks like poop.

ANYWAY, what I'm getting at here is that, while I don't usually like to complain, I'm totally going to this morning because sometimes even a chilled-out dude such as myself can't just let certain shit slide.

Here's the situation:

Across the street from our apartment, there's this little Mexican-run deli/grocery store thing that, until this week, has caught my attention maybe once. It used to be this small, unassuming store that kinda just blended into the landscape of my block and it couldn't have possibly been more whatever if it was the color of a manila envelope and sold only blandness wrapped in shrugs. This was the case since forever up until Monday when, for reasons that I'm sure have everything to do with the aforementioned unoticeability of the place, they got... the new sign. No chance in your eyes skimming over Pancho's Authentic Mexican Deli now, by God!!! The sign is huge, for one thing... at least as tall as Manute Bol and and as wide as six William "Refrigerator" Perry clones standing shoulder to shoulder (these 80's sports references brought to you by Wade Boggs Gum; "The Gum That Will Fuck You Up, Man")

But mostly, and this is where the issue at hand comes into play... the new sign is bright. Sarcastically so. Like Jesus has come down from Heaven for a break dancing contest and brought the Sun along with him to bust phat rhymes while he pops and locks. And of course, Pancho's is open until 2am.

Trying to get to sleep is now officially harder than drunk calculus in Japanese riding a unicycle on fire... the sign keeps slapping me in the face and spritzing me with cold water, waking me up and being all, "You're not tired are you? Huh? Huh? Because I was thinkin' we could play some Uno or Boggle or maybe we could just tell each other ghost stories!" And I'm like, "If I owned a bazooka, I would bazooka the holy fuck out of you and not a court in the world would convict me." And then the sign gets it's feelings hurt and sulks... while emitting beams of light that can be seen by astronauts on the space station, mind you... and I feel bad because it's not really his fault that he's like that, but I'm still angry, but I'm also really sleepy, and I'm kind of hungry too, which isn't helping matters.

So you see my predicament? And, yes, I'm sure that some of you are going to point out that I should just close my curtains or roll over on my other side and face away from the window but that's not the point!!! Why should I have to change? The store's the one that's being a total fart about it.

The courts told me that if I firebombed anyone else ever again, it'd be jail for me forever, but I'm really starting to think that firebombing is the only solution here. Unless any of you guys have suggestions that don't involve me changing anything about the way I live my life, whatsoever. Because I'm all ears.

(firebombing!)