A Dish Best Served with Flaming Hot Shit

So my buddy calls me the other day for about the second time in a
year. Our high school reunion is coming up soon, so I figure he was
just trying to defuse me like a sweaty bundle of dynamite with a
faulty timer. Cut the green ... NO THE RED WIRE!


We had a little disagreement the last time we met. No need to go
into details.


I would have much prefered if he could have gotten himself motivated
a few months sooner to call and feel out the situation. At least then
I might have been able to fool myself into believing he was just calling
because we've been friends for 20 years and not because he wanted
to make sure it would be safe to be in the same place with me with
dozens of on-lookers. What am I a fucking moron I can't figure that
one out?


So don't tell anyone, but I'm gonna fucking humiliate the shit out of
this guy at the reunion. It's gonna make Carrie's prom night look
like Pretty in Pink ... or something like that. I was thinking maybe
I'd do something with papier mache and feces. Or rotten fish, 1,000
ping pong balls and a small trebuchet. Maybe I'll just get drunk off
my ass and make a scene. Or maybe I'll just plant the seeds of doubt
in his mind and let him stew. I'm capable of anything.


Better start saving up the shit now though ... just in case.