  it's interesting how it's three in the morning and i've stuck chinese food in the microwave with full intention of throwing it back out later. it's even more amusing to sit with your friends at the wiped off counter of waffle house being served by a woman that's become your insomniac little group's surrogate grandmother then looking down to a plate of breakfast foods and making out markers in your mind of the reverse order in which this will come out.
it's like two people in your head debating how much slack the other would give. so what's it guys? full blown out, puke till i bleed tonight? or it's okay, we'll let you off easy, just reach the eggs racheal night? the sad thing would be, i'm willingly writing this post without even being slightly ever intoxicated and i can lick the dried tear stains off my cheek and feel my nose bleed beginning to clot up somewhere within my nostrils.
not a pretty picture innit? ugly. say it bitch. you're ugly. fat. retarded. sick. bring it on you fuckers. it's not like you have to be me anyway. 
