sometimes you just get burnt out. every day it takes longer and longer to wake up and leave your house, brushing your teeth and dreading the thought of another day of the same thing, the same vacant stares and slack jaws, the same clothes and the same dirty dishes.
and the thought of doing something different is nice, but really it's just a thought and though sometimes you catch yourself thinking about it all the time, you put it aside as wishful thinking and leave it alone in that little bubble of your brain. cause really, you're working hard as it is, just to do what you've been doing all your life, and trying to change that and add to it just seems a little outrageous..... when you are tired, why would you want to add more to your plate?
enter fate stage left - plops a dead cow in your lap and tells you to make hamburgers. you stare at the dead cow for a while until it's almost decaying, and you roll up your sleeves and hack off the meat, pound by pound until your arms are heavy and you're sweating for the third time that day. spend your hard earned money on a grinder and a frying pan, money you need to use to pay your bills and feed your starving addictions, and you grind that shit up til it's a rough red pulp seeping with cow juice. and it smells horrible.
now you're exhausted, but you fry it up and serve it out on your back porch for 4 bucks a burger. and they love it and they come back every day for more. so, you buy a yacht and sail the pacific after selling the whole house to mcdonalds.
the end
and the thought of doing something different is nice, but really it's just a thought and though sometimes you catch yourself thinking about it all the time, you put it aside as wishful thinking and leave it alone in that little bubble of your brain. cause really, you're working hard as it is, just to do what you've been doing all your life, and trying to change that and add to it just seems a little outrageous..... when you are tired, why would you want to add more to your plate?
enter fate stage left - plops a dead cow in your lap and tells you to make hamburgers. you stare at the dead cow for a while until it's almost decaying, and you roll up your sleeves and hack off the meat, pound by pound until your arms are heavy and you're sweating for the third time that day. spend your hard earned money on a grinder and a frying pan, money you need to use to pay your bills and feed your starving addictions, and you grind that shit up til it's a rough red pulp seeping with cow juice. and it smells horrible.
now you're exhausted, but you fry it up and serve it out on your back porch for 4 bucks a burger. and they love it and they come back every day for more. so, you buy a yacht and sail the pacific after selling the whole house to mcdonalds.
the end
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
catdad:
what would Missy and Spooky do if playboy or hustler came along and offered a million dollars each for the rights to SG?
_william_:
If I would have known your insight into my day...I would have talked to you when I called spooky earlier. Thanks.