I flicked SOMETHING out the window and now filled with DOUBT and possible remorse.

Sinister

pari animositate
The AC quit as I left the yard today.

It was almost 80 degrees as I crossed the St. Croix river into Minnesota. The river was loaded with boats. All of them flying American flags, and many with TRUMP 2020 on them. A bunch had the thin blue line flag too. Probably hoping cops would forgive them for being piss drunk on the water.

I got really drunk on a lake once too years back, but it was frozen and the middle of the night. We'd been in my friends ice shack for hours drinking and decided it was finally time to go home. We must have driven around that goddamn frozen lake in the pitch dark for 45 minutes trying to figure out how to get off the ice. Totally lost the boat ramp.

Some days I wonder how I'm still alive.

This morning there was a small group of Biden supporters of the overpass in Hudson on the Wisconsin side of the river. I figure they got lost trying to find a bridge in Minnesota or something.

So I'm driving around the south side of the Twin Cities with the passenger window all the way open and trying to convince myself that the AC has in fact NOT quit working by almost endlessly holding my hands in front of the vents and mumbling like I'm trying to heal it by faith. I was not able to faith heal the AC. I have the drivers window only slightly cracked for a bit of ventilation and so as not to mess up my hair, because I just showered at the DC and am looking fairly gorgeous, thank you.

Anyway, I'm glad it's not much hotter than 80 or so. 90 is when fat people in Wisconsin start falling over, but 80 can be pretty livable if it's not too humid. And I'm nowhere near fat, so I've got that going for me. As I said, I was looking pretty gorgeous.

Somewhere far southwest of the Twin Cities, and free from the danger of a spontaneous riot I look down on the floor because my bright white roll of paper towels is rolling around on the floor, and making me crazy. I notice a bee crawling around on my roll of paper towels. I'm not sure why he's there or when he got in, but I'm not too scared. He's just a little honey bee trying to do his job, and got lost.

We've all been there. Poor little guy.

Wait.

Aren't the worker drones asexual or something? There's only one queen, right?

I wouldn't want to misgender this poor bee.

My spell check just lost it's mind over "misgender". Must not be a real word. Hmph. Strange.

I leave him be (he he...see what I did there?) for an hour or so figuring that he found his way in, and will likely find his way out. But the whole time he walks around my very unstable roll of paper towels. I pick the roll up and put it on the passenger seat. Twenty minutes later with the passenger window still open and now even closer to it he still hasn't figured out to simply fly out the window and continue his mission.

Okay, so he's not the brightest bee, but as a drone, he doesn't have to be, does he? Doesn't make him any better or worse than the other drones, does it? I'm sure he's honest and hard working, just like all the other bees that serve that particular queen. Because there's nothing on the radio to listen to I tell him, "You GO Mr. Bee Worker Dude! You can DO IT!"

I picture Forrest Gump running from redneck bullies and his "magic shoes" coming apart. No such occurrence with this poor little bee. He stays right on that roll of paper towels.

Then I wonder if the people who advocated cameras and microphones in trucks regret what they hear. I'm betting they do. There's not a sane goddamn truck driver out there. Not one. I tried to tell them that. "Oh no. Lawsuits and prevention an-"blaa blaa bla freakin' blaa.

Then I realize I've put on almost 100 miles. I know from actual science that bees travel for literal miles looking for pollen but I think this little dude may have surpassed his range, and I begin to feel badly for him. "Awww dude, I am so sorry." I tell him, and whomever is listening on the camera microphone thing on the windshield. Then I reaffirm that the electrical tape is still over the inward facing part that I put there last year. Because enough is enough. Doesn't matter where you work, you can only be pushed so far. My electrical tape is still there. Good.

And Little Bee Dude is still here too. That's his name now. I named him.

Then, I decide my little dude has traveled far enough, and grab the roll of paper towels by one end firmly so as not to lose it out the window, and flick the end Little Bee Dude is standing on. He instantly disappears into a rush of 65 mile an hour wind down the right side of the truck.

"Farewell, God's speed, and good luck, Little Bee Dude."

I hope he flew off into the prairies and cornfields of Minnesota and didn't slam against the side of the truck and die. I hope his little bee legs are so loaded with pollen he feels like he just put one hell of a dent in the Golden Corral buffet. From what I understand worker bees don't have a very long life anyway. I'd hate to be the reason his was cut short. Also from what I understand of aerodynamics, if he survived the length of the truck, and may have gotten sucked in behind the trailer. He's got a better chance of survival that way at least. That is, if that car that was tailgating me didn't splat him on his windshield.

People are horrible. I mean, at least I tried. I bet that guy just wondered what the hell just hit his windshield.

I'll never know the fate of Little Bee Dude. And that's something I have to live with.
 
The AC quit as I left the yard today.

It was almost 80 degrees as I crossed the St. Croix river into Minnesota. The river was loaded with boats. All of them flying American flags, and many with TRUMP 2020 on them. A bunch had the thin blue line flag too. Probably hoping cops would forgive them for being piss drunk on the water.

I got really drunk on a lake once too years back, but it was frozen and the middle of the night. We'd been in my friends ice shack for hours drinking and decided it was finally time to go home. We must have driven around that goddamn frozen lake in the pitch dark for 45 minutes trying to figure out how to get off the ice. Totally lost the boat ramp.

Some days I wonder how I'm still alive.

This morning there was a small group of Biden supporters of the overpass in Hudson on the Wisconsin side of the river. I figure they got lost trying to find a bridge in Minnesota or something.

So I'm driving around the south side of the Twin Cities with the passenger window all the way open and trying to convince myself that the AC has in fact NOT quit working by almost endlessly holding my hands in front of the vents and mumbling like I'm trying to heal it by faith. I was not able to faith heal the AC. I have the drivers window only slightly cracked for a bit of ventilation and so as not to mess up my hair, because I just showered at the DC and am looking fairly gorgeous, thank you.

Anyway, I'm glad it's not much hotter than 80 or so. 90 is when fat people in Wisconsin start falling over, but 80 can be pretty livable if it's not too humid. And I'm nowhere near fat, so I've got that going for me. As I said, I was looking pretty gorgeous.

Somewhere far southwest of the Twin Cities, and free from the danger of a spontaneous riot I look down on the floor because my bright white roll of paper towels is rolling around on the floor, and making me crazy. I notice a bee crawling around on my roll of paper towels. I'm not sure why he's there or when he got in, but I'm not too scared. He's just a little honey bee trying to do his job, and got lost.

We've all been there. Poor little guy.

Wait.

Aren't the worker drones asexual or something? There's only one queen, right?

I wouldn't want to misgender this poor bee.

My spell check just lost it's mind over "misgender". Must not be a real word. Hmph. Strange.

I leave him be (he he...see what I did there?) for an hour or so figuring that he found his way in, and will likely find his way out. But the whole time he walks around my very unstable roll of paper towels. I pick the roll up and put it on the passenger seat. Twenty minutes later with the passenger window still open and now even closer to it he still hasn't figured out to simply fly out the window and continue his mission.

Okay, so he's not the brightest bee, but as a drone, he doesn't have to be, does he? Doesn't make him any better or worse than the other drones, does it? I'm sure he's honest and hard working, just like all the other bees that serve that particular queen. Because there's nothing on the radio to listen to I tell him, "You GO Mr. Bee Worker Dude! You can DO IT!"

I picture Forrest Gump running from redneck bullies and his "magic shoes" coming apart. No such occurrence with this poor little bee. He stays right on that roll of paper towels.

Then I wonder if the people who advocated cameras and microphones in trucks regret what they hear. I'm betting they do. There's not a sane goddamn truck driver out there. Not one. I tried to tell them that. "Oh no. Lawsuits and prevention an-"blaa blaa bla freakin' blaa.

Then I realize I've put on almost 100 miles. I know from actual science that bees travel for literal miles looking for pollen but I think this little dude may have surpassed his range, and I begin to feel badly for him. "Awww dude, I am so sorry." I tell him, and whomever is listening on the camera microphone thing on the windshield. Then I reaffirm that the electrical tape is still over the inward facing part that I put there last year. Because enough is enough. Doesn't matter where you work, you can only be pushed so far. My electrical tape is still there. Good.

And Little Bee Dude is still here too. That's his name now. I named him.

Then, I decide my little dude has traveled far enough, and grab the roll of paper towels by one end firmly so as not to lose it out the window, and flick the end Little Bee Dude is standing on. He instantly disappears into a rush of 65 mile an hour wind down the right side of the truck.

"Farewell, God's speed, and good luck, Little Bee Dude."

I hope he flew off into the prairies and cornfields of Minnesota and didn't slam against the side of the truck and die. I hope his little bee legs are so loaded with pollen he feels like he just put one hell of a dent in the Golden Corral buffet. From what I understand worker bees don't have a very long life anyway. I'd hate to be the reason his was cut short. Also from what I understand of aerodynamics, if he survived the length of the truck, and may have gotten sucked in behind the trailer. He's got a better chance of survival that way at least. That is, if that car that was tailgating me didn't splat him on his windshield.

People are horrible. I mean, at least I tried. I bet that guy just wondered what the hell just hit his windshield.

I'll never know the fate of Little Bee Dude. And that's something I have to live with.
Betcha Little Bee Dude doesn't think Ur so gorgeous anymore and truly regrets his decision to hangout with U :rolleyes:
 
Hey @Mike. Birch is hacking @Sinisters account again.
You gonna call the Senate and House Investigations in order..

If "not" I hope ya got a damn good lawyer because I'm sue ya for every last dime ya go for "Defamation" of Charecter..

And don't give me this Bullcrap ya got NOTHING..

Someday you'll get a Real Job or an Inheritance and there shall be a "Lean"..

Anyhow don't be talking smack ...
 
You people think I'm "INSANE"..

LOOK at what ya just "posted" for all 2 see

Gosh wanna really open up tell us all something..

Holy Crap
Sinister been kicking back & drinking some "COUGH SYRUP" and maybe got himself a "tall boy" can of "COLT 45" to drink while he's on his "10 hour break".
 
Oh I got me "plenty" of Gatorade Jugs..

Keeping very well "Hydrated" these days..

I could always revert back to Crapping in Shopping bags toss em in a ditch along Interstate 30 ..

give me some "connection" back to my running Laredo Texas days..could get Team load and make it to Toledo or Detroit in 48 hours straight as "SOLO" and they'd throw ya $100 bucks BONUS too..

But eventually I got WORN OUT and couldn't push like that anymore

Current days I've decided to be a "civilized"

put my Pee in Trash Cans
 

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