A bitch (unleash the Kraken)

I'm up in the middle of the night, see, because apparently those paper-people who throw the Denver Post at houses like flowers at the king's parade like to drive immense 4x4s with grinding motors around and around, then idle, then throw, throw, then grind onward only to idle again, and throw, throw.

It's appalling how people have forgotten how to be decent.  Though in truth I'm pretty sure humanity was never really decent, in fact what am I saying actually -- we have always been barbarians and baboons. And these paper throwers are the worst of them all is what I've decided, at least at 4:17am as I write this, because I can hear them in the next cul de sac over, those poor neighbor sods trying to sleep as I was I'm sure, while baboons behind the wheels of trucks big enough to haul countries haul possibly two men only and a stack of about a hundred newspapers nobody will ever read.  Goodbye trees.  Goodbye decency. Wake up, Greenwood Village.

And where are the police when you need them?  Oh they're always there to pull over the soccer mom interlopers -- their numbers being legion --- but these grand 4x4 fucks?  Well of course the police are nowhere to be found at this fine hour.  Just me, this computer, walking around my house in a fury with no pants on.  As onward they grind, idle and throw, as I pace, half naked, wondering what they would think if I slipped into my ninja outfit and slithered into the cab of their ridiculous vehicle with my sickle. Oh they'd learn to be decent. And oh, if only I had a sickle.

Ain't insomnia a bitch?