krankenhaus
Owen, in a classic bit of passive-agressive prankery, has convinced the
neighborkids that I have Hitler’s brain in a jar stashed somewhere in my
kitchen. One of them is out there right now, a boy with one of those
horrible disposable yuppiekinder names that I can never remember,
screaming about how he told his teacher he’d do an oral report on the
thousand-year reich and how he’ll be certain to fail if he can’t bring
der Fuhrergehirn in as a visual aid. I’m giving him another five minutes
to come to his senses and then I’m turning the hose on him.
(12:13.05.19.2005) [/ana] #