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The only thing scarier than homeless people, are the poor people that live in the backwoods of Alabama. They have guns and civil war cannons. They know how to use them. They have guns and cannons if they are white. If they are the poor blacks that still live in the shacks that resemble slave quarters, they most likely still believe that it is illegal for black people to drink Coca-Cola; those people have big sticks and machetes. Yes, the poor people of the backwoods in Alabama are scary. They smell. They have inbred eyes. They stare at you with hate and contentment because they think you want to contaminate their precious pure gene pool. They should be avoided at all cost. Who has not seen the movie Deliverance?

Today started out as an ordinary day. I am a slacker, I did absolutely nothing. It is my specialty and I pride myself on it. My brother needed a ride back to his apartment. I agreed although I hate going there. There are too many poor people out that way. They reek of moth balls and grain alcohol. Their children like to touch me and screw up my DNA. Their disgusting inbred little fingers leave imprints on the souls of my future children. I should not procreate. I may end up having some side show circus freak child with polydactyl by association.

My brother informs me that he wants to pick his car up in Akron. Smucktard you. Only four people live in Akron Alabama and they are all self-impregnated she-males. I also have no want to drive in Akron, Alabama alone. I have read Stephen King. I know what the Smucktard can happen to you when you drive alone on back roads that you have no clue as to where they lead. Forget the inbreds with the cannons and guns. Forget the disgruntled Vietnam veteran that hacked up his family but was set free because he wasn't right in the head. Forget the children with six fingers that want to steal your car to sell it for cigarettes. Those are all mild things compared to what can happen to you when you travel on unknown roads. I have read Stephen King. I know all about the Thinnies and the Badlands. Roads like Highway 42 run right a long the Thinnies. I know it, you know it, but you just don't want to admit it.

I knew I'd never find my way home. I knew today was my very last day on Earth. I was kind of mad. I was going to die at 120 cowish pounds. That was after I shat. Smucktarding scale. Enough of that anorexia crap. I wasted my whole entire adult life on that crap. I drop my brother off. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should

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