Boiling Point

I woke up this morning and found a voicemail from the bank sayin that I owed them somethin like 8 bills on my debit card which neither made sense nor allowed me any chance of disposable income for the trip Im taking to amsterdam next week. In monopoly and the skulls there are situations where you can get a bank error in your favor. Why is it always the opposite in real life? The only people who ever get one over on the bank do so by declaring bankruptcy and then become the running joke of their wheel of fortune get togethers. Bank errors are always in the bank’s favor because the bank makes the rules. Until we rise up and take the means of control from those monacle-wearin germans, we are going to be slaves to theses deutches. I know what your going to say, dont the jews control the money? Thats what the germans want you to think, behind the scenes they are in control, further supplimenting their mineral stockpiles by smelting the medals won by their athletes in turin. So I stared down these sons of bitches and the branch office and demanded to know how my fifteen hundred dollar deposit had dissappeared, and they got on the horn from the higher ups. I couldnt hear the other end of the conversation, but I assume it was something like “Nein, Nein, Nein, Ya, NEIN.” Eventually, the proper retribution was made, but half my morning was shot. I would say that I was defrosting.
I decided shit couldnt get much worse so I might as well take care of an errand I had been avoiding for damn near a month. Im in the wedding party for two weddings fast approaching, and shits needed certain measurements to make the proper tuxedo arrangements. No more sobering reality than getting your measurements after a three month pot and pizza bender, and shit failed to dissappoint. I rolled in with my unkept hair, homeless man outfit, and Ellix Power’s gift clown shoes. Lets just say, the salesman werent climbing over each other to help me. After one dude snuck in the back, the guy on the phone talked for an extremely long time before he was cornered and forced to take my numbers. Dude called me out on sucking in the gut at one point, but that didnt stop me from trying. I lied about every verbal question he asked me, and was found out when that damn tape measurer proved my shit wrong. The guy just had this condescending longways stare everytime I did my pinnochio routine with my information, but wasnt no way I was coppin to anything he didnt prove. I would say that I was now slow simmering.
Once my humilation was complete, I slunked back to my crawlspace to peruse my various fantasy sports leagues. Some pussy ass factions therin were trying to undermine my recent dominance of the trading floor which would have been far less infuriating had my dander not already have been up. I lashed out at my accussers, and spent the better part of a couple hours ranting either on the message board or to drum up support. I then was exposed to about three hours of fourth to seventh graders kicking me in the shins, while I asked them math questions, followed by them punching me in the kidneys. As I licked my wounds and rolled home in a broke ass buick, I recieved a call from a buddy of mine in chicago. I would say I was at a slow boil at this point.
Four months prior I had lost a bet to an undesirable living in Chicago under an assumed girlfriend. This worthless fuck who we’ll call Lips Vagilus after Madonna’s original boss in the movie version of Dick Tracy. I was down a hundered bucks to the Vag and rather than pay that which I knew I could lay odds on, I gave him 8 to 1 on it that duke wouldnt go undefeated in the ACC this year. I knew they were the class of the field, but come on, they always lose one or two. No one goes undefeated in the ACC. Two days ago, with two games to go and no losses, I was shittin my pants. 800 fucking dollars, I couldnt take the hit. I made contact, and Lips allowed a buyout at 550. I decided it wasnt the mad dogs day and paid what I owed. Here I am driving home from a shitty day, and I get a phone call telling me duke lost to FSU, two days after the buyout. At this point it was a full out rolling boil.
Now the question is, what happens to you at your boiling point? Back when I was boy scout age, we had a buddy who would turn physically red and start flailing his arms whenever you got him over his boiling point. Since we were bigger then him and we thought it was funny, we would play a game I called “boiling point” where we all pushed him around in a circle until he was mad enough to be defined as boiling point. It was the shit, he would just keep getting progressively madder, “come on guys”, push, “this is stupid”, push, “seriously, stop it”, push, “you better stop”, push, “this is so old”, push, “Damn it, whats wrong with you guys”, push, “what the fuck”, push, “ARRRRRRRGHH”. Jackpot. And the resulting tirade only further guaranteed his future torment. That was the beauty of it, he truly couldnt avoid this reaction once he reaches a certain level of anger, it was all instinct at that point. I dont know that Im as predictable as he, but it turns out when I get angry enough I throw my cell phone as hard as I can against my dashboard or some derivation thereof.

Boiling Point

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