Friday, March 5, 2010

My Local Dive Burnt Down... And My Whole Fucking Hood Is Going Bat-Shit Crazy

What. The. Fuck. Eh?

It started a few weeks ago with some dude getting beat up right on my fucking doorstep. Like, seriously, pounded on the sidewalk, at 3:30 AM, parts of him touching my front porch. It pissed me off, but I had to intervene.

It seems the whole neighbourhood is on the brink of tremendous violence, in a fit of rage I can't even begin to comprehend.

Hours ago, in the middle of the night, my local neighbourhood dive bar, Bar Fullum, a place I was happy to frequent one a week because it was at the corner of my street and was now equipped with huge HD screens for me to watch hockey games and incite me to leave home during the cold, dead winter months, albeit not by straying too far - well, it burned down. 5:30 AM. It's gone, along with the two apartments that were on top of it. The newspapers say it wasn't criminal, but those who worked there aren't convinced.

And just a few minutes ago, as I went to the grocery, I saw a couple fighting violently on the street - screaming at each other and she hitting him - and what looked like two gangs engaging in a beef, two groups of maybe a dozen late teens/young adults each, engaging in fights, then forming a circle as two combatants got into it - right in the middle of a McDonald's parking lot.

It feels like one of those zombie/disease/violent rage movies, when shit's about to break loose. I'm here with two baseball bats, protecting my two cats and possessions, waiting for it to actually start so I can get working on upgrading my weapons, one at a time, so I can survive those fuckers.

I'm not crazy, I know it's not likely to happen. But if it does, I'll be the one asshole who is prepared: good music, enough brains to not follow everybody's path, a habit of not sleeping much and a bad attitude.

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