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The Eff-Head.
Hope someone reads this...it's a little old.
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So I was walking home.
Doo doo doo, minding my own business.
Then there was Fuckhead.
He was NOT minding his own business.
He turned up his favourite rock song and rolled down his windows.
I thought that the words HEY FUCKHEAD, FAUT BAISSER LA MUSIQUE! were going to come out, but they didn't.
Instead I brooded on Fuckhead...
What if Fuckhead went to sleep everynight with his baby blanket?
What if Fuckhead still lived with his mother and she made his breakfast for him every morning?
She would wash his clothes still, and ground him from his car keys if she ever heard him blasting music from his speaker system in front of her house!
What if...perhaps, Fuckhead went to sleep in the same bed as his Lover.
But maybe Fuckhead's Lover was actually just an enemy that was sleeping with his brother.
They had a cold relationship, so he was driving to get away from it all.
Or maybe Fuckhead was gay!
Fuckhead was actually very feminine, but he wasn't out of the closet yet.
Maybe he was going to his parents' house to let the cat out of the bag, and needed courage that came with that loud rock music.
But then again, maybe Fuckhead was just like me.
Except he was a jerk and a show-off and wanted to make a display of his machoness by playing that rock from his nice car stereo.
Anyway, I realised that Fuckhead was a person...and a stranger.
So I'm glad I didn't yell anything at him.
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