THIS IS MY CONFESSION
I can't be the only one who is tired of the snaggle-toothed futher-muckers who choose to congregate on Capitol Hill waiting for their next victim so they can… 1. Ask for money 2. Ask for cigarettes 3. Generally irritate the general public because the voices (caused by smoking everything not stapled down) inside their heads have stopped talking back to them. I have worked on the Hill for almost six years and have noticed the absolute decline in the regulation of these mofos. This month alone, two of my female coworkers have almost been mugged walking the one-and-a-half blocks from work to their cars. Tonight was the last straw. I pulled up in front of my work to pick up a friend waiting in our small customer parking lot. This jack-off was so far into her personal space that I couldn't tell if the dildosmack was her fucking shadow. This is my confession: The next fucker that doesn't take my answer of "Fuck off" and leave it is going to rue the day that he/she ever met me. I am fighting back. I look forward to the next slime-bucket that I see bothering some hapless Capitol Hill resident so that I can gleefully pound his/her fucking head into the sidewalk. I look forward to reading about me in an upcoming Police Beat: "Local female takes down three vagrants while crowd cheers." Feel free to join in.