i've rode through a freeway in a truck with no name
it felt good to be out of the rain
on the freeway... you can't remember your name
because there ain't noone for to give you no pain
(la la la)
tonight was the first time i barfed without being dunk or high in a very long time. nausea is so simple whilst sober. you spew a bit, wash your hands, and SHABANG life is moving on faster than you can say "fuck off and die". because typically my drunken puking sessions are more marathon-esque... the kind where you wake up on the bathroom floor with no shirt on, covered in a cold sweat, and hoping everyone has left or fallen alseep wherever it is you are, so you can escape without interrogation.
you all know the anti's boring blog from hell motto right?? "interrogate this!"
and why when i'm in a hurry at the supermarket (i'm in a hurry 100% of the time by the way, so change, so i guess i mean always) do all the SLOW
est old ladies jump out in front of me with their piled to the top grocery carts, and their dykey haircuts, and come to a complete stop, blocking the whole aisle (wierd word by the way... "aisle")? is there a reason like "they're old and stupid", or do the gods just hate me? i guess that's a dumb question...every
one knows those damn gods hate me.