4:44 am.

in one hand:

a bottle of wine. a large one. not a jug per se, but large nonetheless...

in the other hand:

over 800 "friends" on my "friends" list. it begs the question:

are you guys REALLY my friends?

would you mourn my passing? would you take a bullet for me?

but more importantly... would you drink the cool aid?

you see where this is going...

*draws line in sand*

you're either with me or against me.

one picnic: two potential outcomes

1 - you're swigging from the wine bottle with me, being fed grapes and assorted cheeses by naked, adoring models.

or

2- you're covered with stinging radioactive ants.

you're in the driver's seat kid, its up to you.

i'm just going to let that sink in for a minute.

stay right there i'll be right back.