I'm friggin' pissed! 

Someone ate my last half gallon of vanilla bean ice cream that I had in the sub-zero walk-in freezer. It was clearly labeled "TINY WIGHT's VANILLA BEAN ICE CREAM, ASSHOLE. NO TOUCHY." 

I just got back from the grocery store with all these sundae fixin's and now I'm standing here with MUD on my face. Whoever took that ice cream, I swear to you "I will punch your fucking lights out".

Exhibit A

Over the years I've experienced very few events that have pushed me over the edge from my baseline red-hot rage to full-blown, white-hot homicidal rage. Honestly, those events are far and few between. The times I've lost it - I mean really gone off the deep end - it's been well-deserved. 

The first of these times that I can remember was somewhere around November 4th, around 11:28 at night. The year was probably around 1983. It was approximately at this time that I saw a werewolf, silhouetted against a fat, full moon on the hill in back of my parent's house, devouring my Golden Retriever puppy, Chuck. A was struck dumb at the sight - frozen in time and space by the horror of this phantasmagorical situation. Then, suddenly, as if possessed by the spirit of a pugilistic energy conservationist, I ran over and punched that werewolf's fucking lights out.

To be honest, there has never been a time - once I've gone 100% mad with rage (as I have now) - that I haven't punched someone's fucking lights out. I can sincerely say that it makes me feel a lot better. In fact it makes me feel totally awesome.

I don't mean to suggest that everyone should go around doing what I do. A newspaper reporter once quoted me saying, "Hey, I'm no role model, kid." Diplomacy (otherwise known as "talking it over") is the BEST policy for all rational people, the vast majority of law-abiding citizens, most politicians, many wimps and a few retards. For me though, when it comes to conflict resolution, it's strictly "fucking lights out" punching.

So - here I am, sitting on a $400 teak stool at our $5000 granite-top kitchen island at Deadites' headquarters with M&M's, hot fudge, strawberry syrup with real strawberries, Hood brand Real whipped cream, three bananas, a package of Oreo cookies that were made by Nabisco, creamy caramel topping, rainbow sprinkles and a jar of maraschino cherries with an unpopped freshness seal. Just sitting here... Like a goddamned fool. A goddamned fool who's not eating a delicious ice cream sundae with all the fixin's because someone stole and ate his Breyer's Organic Vanilla Bean ice cream out of the sub-zero walk-in freezer.

Someone once said, "There are no guarantees in life, buddy." Well, that someone is an ignorant asshole. I say so because I am currently offering a 100% money-back satisfaction guarantee to whoever took my vanilla bean ice cream that:

"I will punch your fucking lights out." -Tiny Wight (c) 2007

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