So I promised it and here it is. I'll try to keep my spelling up to par as I go on this drunken tirade. Thank gaud for spell checker. But earlier today my friends and I were sang to by a half dressed greenman who then proceeded to tell us his life problems. Awkward doesn't quite cut it.
Here I am now, trying to sober up in three hours. It should happen. If not, I can fake it a little. But I should be fine.
I have a problem with incompetence. It nags at me like a stirred up horse that thinks your legs are made of oats. I feel like everyone should only be able to sink down into their lowest level of social participation. After that you just shouldn't be allowed to drink any more. You know who you are.
I also have a problem with dependancy. Fucking just work it out on your own. It pisses me off when someone can't do something without someone else there. That is vague. But dependancy drives me nuts.
So I just fell asleep there...
If only the sand can come sooner. I am begging to find it in places that it should not be. I'd like to spit it out of my mouth when I fall after laughing too hard at someone bailing on a failed hand stand. I crave it. Warmer waters. Bring it on sharks. I'll pull you out of the water and watch you suck air in through your gills and kick your sides.
So I am going to be working on a comedy of a couple during the moon's explosion and they just so happen to have small super powers. I think I can write it pretty quickly and decently in a good amount of pages. I just hope it's funnier than this. Sorry, I didn't think I'd be this boring while drunk. I'm better in person I guess.
Eyes on the prize. Horrorscope.
Life will hit that seventh ring of hell. The kind where you think if can only get better than this. Sad news. There's an eighth ring. And you're going there. I saw the memo. Venus is on the rings this month, so you'll most likely end up with a crushed spirit no matter what you do. Win a hard game? Nope. It will just feel too easy. Or someone else let you win. Fail at something. Well that is self-explanatory. Meanwhile nothing you eat will sit well with you. Provide for lots of digestion time and bathroom breaks.
Just don't paint me as a lier.
At the bottom of the lake,
LQ
Friday, March 5, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment
Do whatever. If you piss me off I'll delete it.