I is for . . .

. . . Idiots. Namely, drunken idiots. While at work last night, I saw one of these oh so common creatures. I just happened to be at the front of the building when I heard some banging noises, so I looked out. This guy was kicking the shit out of a hire van parked next to Berkeley Square. He then started kicking the wing mirror and then yanking at it trying to break it. As cars were passing he would run at them and try and hit them. He left the hire van and moved on to the next car in line. a Ford Focus. He gave it a few kicks then on to the next one. A lovely white Porsche. Started booting that as well. I didn't wait any longer. Time for 999. While on the phone to the police he started yanking and kicking the wing mirror on the Porsche until he got it completely of the car. He then ran off down a side street only to reappear a few seconds later, still with the wing mirror in his hand. He then started running at passing cars, trying to hit them. One of the cars he tried to hit was a black cab and right behind it was a police van. Right time, right place. They didn't waste any time in nicking him.
I can't understand the mentality of people like that. No matter how rat-arsed I get, I cannot see myself fucking up other peoples stuff, for no reason. I could imagine how pissed the owner of the Porsche is going to be. Nobody knows how hard he had to work to get his toy. Assuming he wasn't born rich. Still, there is no reason for stupid shit like that.
Another incident that happened a few weeks ago. This guy who turned out to live in the posh flats at the back of my building was walking back and forth up the street and in the square, shouting and swearing his head off. For more than an hour. One minute it was nigger this and the next it was white bastards. Confused? No, just another drunken idiot. He kept walking up to security at Mortons and swearing at them. Kicking street furniture, taking off his jacket and trowing it on the ground, etc. The police eventually turned up and spoke to him. Think he got the message as he went home shortly after.
Some people.
. . .Imagination. Namely, mine. The things that go through my mind sometimes. Most of it is smut related. No surprise there. Other stuff is sci-fi related, since I am an avid reader of that genre. Is there life out there? I'd like to think so. One of my favourite authors is John Ringo, with his Posleen series. I love that stuff. With the human warrior scenario and life enhancing/rejuvenation technology, and interstellar travel. I also imagine myself winning the lottery and what I would do with the money. How my dream house would look, what cars I would have. How I would take care of my sisters. My brothers would still live with me. I would have a big enough house so we could all have our own space. Travel, and of course, finding myself a wife and settling down. Of course there would be smutty adventures along the way. In far flung exotic places with gorgeous women. Yes, I'm still a pervert.