Sick Cadding Syndrome

1st April. 1st blog. I think the mutant in me just telepathically ignited the building opposite my block.

The helpless roof just sank into charred rubbles, as furiously as i was cadding my fucking ..roof. The chanting siren that followed, the flickering reflectors on the fighters' suit as they hustle around the blazing glory of the triumphant flames was actually quite scenic for my troubled Friday night. The chain explosions sounded almost like gun salutes to me.

Sadist huh? I don’t give a fuck. Anxious about people getting choked up and charred? Yes. Ironic comment? Yes. Don’t understand what I am saying? Graspable.

The rescue. So slow. Indescribably weak. Any guy with a decent-sized dick can jet up a stronger water current than that bloody hose. Maybe its full of holes. Lame? Yes.

Well, I should be glad that I have a roof over me while I am cadding my roof. Talk later.

City skyline – humbled.