I stumble out of slumber and fall into complete consciousness. The murmuring of chirping birds emits through the window. Stumble out of bed, straight shot to the kitchen. The coffee maker stares at me in horror, while I look glance back wide grinned. I operate on this mechanism until it is bleeding rich, beautiful, steaming hot sludge that will somehow get me through the rest of the day. Mug in hand, I make way toward the porch. I embrace the morning aura. The smell of freshly cut grass, various tones of buzzing animals and/or distant lawn mowers, the swaying of leaves. Information stored and retained. However, it is another day to which there will be no change. It is, another day, where a certain establishment will not expand their brand. I could feel the swelling vengeance pulsate throughout my veins. I grasp my mug as if Clay Zavada were about to throw a game winning pitch. The sound of the crashing mug startles a neighbor. Is everything alright? says the No-named neighbor whom I see practically like almost every single day but whenever I wave at them or say good morning they ignore me or just half-ass smile back because they think theyre too good for me or something since the have a Mercedes and have like that awful, stereotypical family where they all wear white shirts on the beach together in that same stereotypical rich white person photo you know exactly who Im talking about spray tanned Louis Vuitton purse gold accessories little dog actual walking throw up. With terror steaming from my back, and eyes filled with blood, I scream out WHY THE FKCU ARE THERE NOT MORE EINSTIEN BAGEL BROS IN SARASOTA?!?!?! A demon then rips through my chest, killing me, and then killing that lady. #fantasy
Posted on: Tue, 14 Oct 2014 13:28:17 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015