AAAAARRRRRGGGHH!!!!

SMASH!!!! SMASH!!!

Hulk want smash all. Hulk no be having this bad a day since last time Hulk forget that he wear Banner thong before Hulk hulk out. Hulk have chaffing.

Hulk grandma find random pills in trash dusty on mom's floor. Hulk no know where they come. Hulk Mom no know, too. Hulkgrandma think someone is abusing drug in house. Mom look up on PDR, and they are diet supp...supp...pill. run 80 buck a pill. Mom have no clue. We all confused. Grandma praying over us all. HULK SMASH ASSININE PILLS! Hulk only grumble over grandma. She fragile, like Ally McBeal...

Hulk get shit from boss today HULK SMASH BOSSS!!!!! She be pain in ass today. Hulk have busy morning. Hulk forget to tell Boss shit boss should know. Boss throw shit fit. Hulk throw Boss out of office. Dave laugh. Dave laugh laugh laugh. Hulk plan go postal soon. HULK POSTAL EVERYTHING!!!

Hulk hungry. Hulk go Wendy. Hulk want cheekon, because Hulk now FAT HULK! HULK SMASH FAT! Plus, Hulk like way spice feel when rubbed on green skin. So Hulkilicious. HULK SMILE!!! Hulk get to office, open sandwhich. It BURGER! HULK MAAAAAAD!!!! HULK SMASH ALL FUCKING NO ENGLISH SPEAKING NO ATTENTION PAYING WENDY WORKER!!!! Hulk as for chicken. Man ask Hulk if Hulk want chicken. Hulk say yes. Man hand bag to Hulk, say "Here Hulk Chicken." Hulk pay for Hulk Chicken. WHY HULK GET FUCKING BEEF PATTY WHEN HULK WANT HULK FUCKING CHICKEN!!!?!?!?!?

HULK SMASH!

Okay. Hulk feel better now. Hulk vent. Hulk go and kill things on computer. HULK LIKE JEDI. Hulk kill much.

Hulk need take dump, first. Must SMASH zipper. Oooooh...Hulk go find key...!!!!

What the Hell?

Is the universe against me or something? I mean, the morning was messed up, and lunch was fugged up, and yeeeeeerg. What happened this afternoon? Chaos. And evil. And hate. And pain. And I was just mad as hell.

And then I went running shoe shopping. Jeesh...I know that shoe technology has changed a lot, and *everything* looks like a running shoe, but Duex Ex Machina, please, PLEASE, you'd expect to find RUNNING SHOES in a RUNNING SHOE SPECIALTY STORE. So yeah, I pick up on the wrong one, and then OH GOD, I get "Oh, you don't know what you're doing" attitude from the fucking clerk.

Now, yes, I know I've not run in a long time, and I know that I don't know shoes...but I KNOW what running experience I have, and what I can expect from myself. 30-35 miles a week is a lot, yes, but it is not unrealistic once I get going. We AVERAGED 30 miles a week in high school. And I hope to get back to that. It was a good time, and I was healthy, and hot, and had STAMINA. And YES, I was a sprinter, too. So then, great, she's all "You won't *really* be running that much...you should start into it slowly, or you'll get shin spints." Of course, I was in the mode where I had to pipe in "Yes, I had them, and I know all about the bad knees. Mine still pop." Lady tried to tell me that as a sprinter, she'd only run 100 meters a week. Whatever. WHATEVER. You'd run at least 2 miles per practice. As a SPRINTER. Hell, we'd jog a mile just to warm up.

I left the place, shaking, shoes in hand...really, REALLY freaking sick of people talking down to me today. Freaking anger...

...and then get home, and the grandmother starts in with the news summary for the day, which is like, jeesh...c'mon...can I get an hour to myself...and then...

"The washing machine is done."

"What?"

"The washing machine is dead. I went out to the garage and there was smoke everywhere. It's full of smoke. So, it's time to get another one. That's too bad."

Great. She killed it. And I'm out of clean underwear. I was coming home to do laundry. And now. Fuck.

Yes, it just keeps getting better. Sheet.