September 17, 2008
Originally published January 7, 2002
Long, slow, sour day today. Mondays often are that way, especially after I've had my son for the weekend and I wake up wishing he still was here, knowing that it will be two weeks before I see him again. So, I started out in a funk. The weather was shitty and cold, work was uneventful and boring and I think I'm going to bed early tonight and hope that tomorrow is a better day.
The news and the blog-spots were all a-buzz today about the 15-year old kid who flew the single engine Cessna into a skyscraper in Tampa in some sort of twisted copycat 9-11 stunt. What a pathetic, doofus loser this kid was. He probably imagined that he would die a spectacular death, take a few innocent souls with him and get his picture on the cover of Time Magazine. Instead, he killed only himself, left most of the plane hanging outside the skyscraper and didn't even manage to start a fire. The poor bastard couldn't have fucked that up any worse if he had tried. Well, I guess he could have by living through it, too, which would have made him the object of incredible ridicule the rest of his life. Now at least, people have only his deed to ridicule.
But he certainly ranks up there as a terrorist laughing stock with the "shoenabomber," who probably wet his detonator cords by pissing on his own feet in the men's room before he boarded the plane. Some people can't even hate right.
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