Dear Asshole,
Thank you so very much for slashing my tyre. It is causing me grief, I really appreciate it!
I never realised how unfit I was until I had to start power-walking to work and back. Thank you, I have been forced to do some exercise, and it is killing me. My achilles is complaining and the tendons running up the front of my ankles are somewhat tender. Which makes me eat cake instead of digging the garden.
Being unable to change the tyre due to wedged-on wheel covers, my car sits useless. Granted it is saving me fuel, therefore money, but my cake consumption is clearing out the pantry. I may starve. Or - horrible thought - be forced to live on lettuce from the garden...
Tomorrow:
* Get bigger screwdriver and borrow a neighbour to get wheel cover off.
* Change tyre.
* Go to town, get new tyre.
* Restock fridge.
* Buy henna and re-do tattoo A.S.A.P.
* Get polymer clay.
* Reshape future.
