2006-01-12 - 4:03 p.m.
Nuzzle nuzzle
So I get back from 12th night on Sunday, after picking up Elena and then dropping off the Nealsons at their exclusive private gated community, (also known as Umstead State Park)
I got home around 10:30 or so. At around 11:45 there is a knock at my front door, which surprised the dogs as much as me, (way to go guys, so much for your �canine supersense.�)
I open my door to find Dude, the strung out crackhead/stoner. He is a white kid, probably 19 or 20, long hair, baggy pants, �call central casting and ask for white inner city drugie,� type.
He is also cold and pathetic looking.
�Hey man can I come in and use your phone, it�s really cold out here�
If you�ve been to my place, you�ll understand the humor in that request. (I don�t have heat or a phone)
�Come on in, but there�s no heat or phone�
He looks dazed, and doesn�t even react to my big dog Mokie who jumps up on him and sniffs a bit. (Mokie probably outweighs him)
He says that he and his friend were in an accident and needs to call someone to get them.
I ask him where the accident was and if his friend needs help,
�That way man, f*ck, (pointing towards the tree line) and f*ck if I know where he f*cking is man, f*uck, he just f*ucking took off�
As a former user of the f-word I have to say that I was impressed with his usage, and the dexterity and frequency at which he was able to insert it into just about any phrase.
I should add that this is the stoner usage of that epithet �Like, fuuuuuu*k dude�
Not to be confused with the Mafia usage �F*ck you, you f*cking f*ck!
*The remainder of this story has been removed for privacy purposes. If you�d like to read it, (and I know you), e-mail me and I�ll send it to you.*
-Justus
