i know, right? it all seems so familiar. a woeman on south hyde park boulevard, i saw her bulk coming and tried to ignore the malice in her vibe, i thought she was maybe looking for her car and walking in the street to avoid a sweet old golden retriever and a semi-sweet old man and i saw her eyes and then the dread sound of her voice issue forth like invisible projectile bile say, you don't even know where your dog is, because he's not on a leash. shut up, i say, i know where my dog is at all times, bitch, at all times. you don't even know where your car is. i think she was just in misery, a hungover carnivore looking for a target on post-independence day morning. not from around here, probably doing the walk of shame. you don't even know where your head is at! i say at her closed tinted window. 
by the time i was swimming, she was so far away, she was probably writhing at some loathsome job spitting at another inappropriate target, maybe a lesser mortal who will suck it up to get along. it ain't me babe. no no no. i am swimming with love. while she be wallowing in hate, ha-ha, i be swimming in love.