Wind blown hair is not all it’s swept up to be; after flying around town with the windows down, all the crud in the air tends to accumulate on my head. Perhaps it’s the force of the current, dragging oil from my scalp down to the red strands, I don’t know. I really don’t care enough to assign it any more sentences. More admittedly, I’m disgusted and I’m done.
It has been brought to my attention that Spiderman is the new Ghey. He’s plastered all over my 6 pack of pop. This makes me angry, because the drink was bad enough already, room temperature or otherwise.
I walked to a friend’s post office in a dirty little village, hoping their check had arrived. A diet soda in hand, suffering in the afternoon. Garbage day scented everything like rotting corpse, and I briefly considered wretching phosphoric acid over someone’s puny front lawn while their ugly dog watched.
The nails on my right hand are jagged and split from trying to rip the front off my computer. My CD drive stopped reading, shortly after someone else spilled their tea over the tower. Having no idea what to do inside a computer, I blew into it and wiped it down. Upset that I never did remove all of the casing, I jacked it around and stabbed it a couple times with the screwdriver. After hovering over it close to tears, I left it naked on the table and went to bed feeling like a failure.
Today, it works. I would go into how amazing I am, but honestly, I’m sick from swinging with too much aspartame in my body. i have to lie down.