Mood Humanidity

As I walked through eleventy-six percent humidity on my way to the train, I had these thoughts in mind: Out of my way, large, slow state workers and otherwise biggiesized human obstacles! I have but three hundred seconds to reach my train with its freezer car technology. I'm afraid that you, shiftless amoebae, are already lost to the hell fires of your Earth. Cruel? Perhaps. But it's so stinking hot. Anyway, it got me thinking. I wish I was on friendly terms with someone to whom I could say, "Move your big fat-thing arse out the way!" Don't you want to be able to say that without guilt or vengeance? I wish I was outsized. I’d let you say that to me! As it is, if you see me steaming along the sidewalk, feel free to say “Hey, slow down there, freakish, skeletal, pencil-neck! You’re going to forge some sort of wormhole with that ship’s prow Adam’s apple of yours!” Or some such thing.