Ween Weeningson Goes To The Beach

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4. Wheres my bus at?

Standing outside of my door, I look out towards the street. A small child runs by and I instinctively raise my fists at it and it screams with some form of fear or delight. Why is it so hard to determine such a thing? Why would you scream when you're enjoying yourself? Are you trying to get attention, so everyone knows how much fun you're having? Is that not what Instagram was made for? Is Instagram a way of screaming at people? The kid is now crying. I look it in the eyes and pull the wackiest face I can. That's what kids like, right? It stares at me for like a fucking week, only to cry harder. I kneel down and pick up my mail. I hurl the heaviest thing amongst the piles of bills at it and it hits the child with a soft *thump*. A man and his dog are now staring at me from across the street. Long story short, I run like a motherfucker. 

 

My giant feet pound on the concrete as the dog snaps at my back. 

"STOP!" I yell, "JUST....JUST...FUCK OFF!"

The dog does not fuck off. It continues to try to eat my anus as sweat runs down my face. 

 

And then, I trip.  

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