The interracial couple next door bought a another car. I saw a new Camry in their driveway before work yesterday. It's probably leased. It's going for $199 a month. I mean, who's ever heard of a blonde woman with an Asian fellow? Who does she think he is, Bruce Lee? You know those Japanese, they'll carry themselves with soft pride and feed you orange chicken, all the while you don't know what they're eating at home for themselves. You won't see them eating turkey, but they don't need to carry a flag. They have their Hondas.
The wife parked her Explorer in front of my yard again. I always like to put out my trash bins two and a half feet apart to make it easier for the dump truck fellow. I don't want him holding certain prejudices towards me. I'd like to tell him, next time put the chalk markings on her forehead. Ladycakes can lick her fingers and rub it off when she powders her nose with her bon bon toys. I'm not like that, I hold the door open. I made like I was going in to tie my shoes, but she walked out before I could spit one of the door handles. I waved, of course, and she glared at me. Probably thinks I have certain intentions towards her. She's one of those blondes who was never pretty, but you can't initially ignore. She knows that, and it's turned her personality into a beast. She takes it out on others; when a door opens she'll walk right past. She knows she's landed her husband and his breakfast burrito earnings; and Bruce Lee thinks he's Average Joe. Hey there, he'll say. He never looks up. He's got that cash register down to an art; it sounds like a typewriter when I order. Half the town is in that shack in the mornings. You'd think he'd get a Lexus, but he has tact. I've tried going to other charbroiled places to get my burrito, but I always get angry at them. I have to go back to Asian Paul. I hate him.
The wife parked her Explorer in front of my yard again. I always like to put out my trash bins two and a half feet apart to make it easier for the dump truck fellow. I don't want him holding certain prejudices towards me. I'd like to tell him, next time put the chalk markings on her forehead. Ladycakes can lick her fingers and rub it off when she powders her nose with her bon bon toys. I'm not like that, I hold the door open. I made like I was going in to tie my shoes, but she walked out before I could spit one of the door handles. I waved, of course, and she glared at me. Probably thinks I have certain intentions towards her. She's one of those blondes who was never pretty, but you can't initially ignore. She knows that, and it's turned her personality into a beast. She takes it out on others; when a door opens she'll walk right past. She knows she's landed her husband and his breakfast burrito earnings; and Bruce Lee thinks he's Average Joe. Hey there, he'll say. He never looks up. He's got that cash register down to an art; it sounds like a typewriter when I order. Half the town is in that shack in the mornings. You'd think he'd get a Lexus, but he has tact. I've tried going to other charbroiled places to get my burrito, but I always get angry at them. I have to go back to Asian Paul. I hate him.
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