Motorcycle Text Mama

I swallowed my nutritional supplement right after my morning hike knowing it would be about 20 minutes before I could eat. I am almost home when I recall that I have nothing in the house to eat except my granddaughter’s instant dinosaur egg oatmeal. That will not happen! I turn around and head over to the doughnut shop. I grab a ham and cheese kolache and a raspberry doughnut 

(It is fruit!!) I make coffee and set up here to write. I take a bite of the kolache and it tastes like burnt shoe leather. The ham is brown and tough like cheap jerky. I do not eat the rest. What have they been warming up the same batch of crap all week long? Was this really made on Monday and reheated all week? Last time I go there. Maybe I was looking for a reason all along. I should say thank you. It un-nerved me to purchase food from a place that placed donuts before an altar of idols.

I now remember I quit eating at my favorite restaurant in Ft. Worth for that very reason. However, I admire the courage of their conviction. How many Christians who own restaurants display their GOD? Should I interview every eating establishment? I need to work this out in my head and heart.

Dear lady in the white Cadillac. The appropriate moment to enter the turn lane is clearly marked at the intersection. You drove for a little over a quarter mile in a turning lane. Not the turn lane for the intersection. You had your bloody blinker on for the entire time passing up a church and 3 businesses. How was I supposed to know what your bloody intention was? Learn how to drive!!!!!!!!!!! Go back to drivers-ed and learn what the markings on the bloody road mean. You are a hazard! You are bloody ignorant and you should be locked away somewhere safe like….

Biker dude! You may think you look very imposing and frightening and “bad to the bone” while on your bike but your female makes you look like a buffoon while she sits up on her pad and is texting what looks like a novel. I laughed. Was that the intended reaction?

Whoever you are who dumped your dilapidated love seat out by the park. GO BACK AND GET IT!!! Really?? Who told you Schertz was your personal trash receptacle? You probably live in a trailer

and really, why don’t you just dump it out the back door of your trailer like your neighbors do? Make arrangements with someone to haul it off. Why should the tax payers of Schertz have to pay for the time and gas for their maintenance crew to pick up your trash? How is that fair to the other tax payers? What makes you so bloody special? I do not know where you come from but please!! Go back there!

Ok I really need to move to an island.

Cheers!