Anyway, I eased up on the carbs so I could squeeze out my little window and stand on the fire escape. Looking down I noticed several of my cigarette butts in the courtyard below. I met the woman that lives in that apartment during Hurricane Sandy. I haven’t discussed the hurricane at all because it didn’t affect me. If you are a long time reader you will know that if I’m not directly affected by something it probably didn’t happen.

We had a nice discussion over the high winds as we stood on the stoop of the building. I was a bit preoccupied calculating my ability to push her out of my way if a strong wind should occur. She definitely said she was a musician and she said this with an English accent so you know she’s cool and probably a bit pissed about the revolution and a bit touchy about how English musicians stole the black man’s music. Again, not directly affecting me so I didn’t dwell on it.

Looking at the butts on the ground I thought I would do the honorable thing and write her a letter apologizing for the cigarette butts and Romney’s recent UK visit. I taped it to her door. Admittedly creepy but that’s how we do in the Midwest and besides I may need to hit her up for a loan that I will, of course, never repay.

She wrote a nice letter back saying that she noticed a cloud of what she thought was dust descending on her courtyard and that must have been the ashtray. I then had to write her back saying that that was actually me shaking out a rug out. The deeper it went the worse I looked.

So the whole point of this pointless little post is that if you hear a song on the radio entitled “The Asshole in 2D” it’s probably about me.