Who wants to eat cake with me?
No one? Oh, ok that figures. so, fuck people. they come into your life, shit on your carpet, then steal your can of Dr. Pepper on the way out. It's tiring. I sit there and think, "Oh, man, I really wanted to drink that Dr. Pepper, but that asshole just stole it. what a douchebag." I've had too many cans of Dr. Pepper stolen in my lifetime, and I swear, the next person who takes my can of Dr. Pepper is in for a grade A ass kicking.
Then you've got all these bitches coming around saying, "PLEASE! TELL ME HOW TO DRINK MY CAN OF COKE! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DRINK THIS COKE!" so you try to explain to them how to do it, but then they decide that they don't want to do it that way. They just wanna keep trying to open it from the bottom, when that's completely impossible.
Then you try and tell your parents that you don't like Coke. You like Dr. Pepper. Then they're all like, "OH, but we don't want you to drink Dr. Pepper. We want you to drink Coke!" but drinking Coke doesn't make me happy. Dr. Pepper makes me happy, right? So I want to drink Dr. Pepper. but then they say they don't want you drinking Dr. Pepper in their house, or bringing Dr. Pepper around, or indulging in a glass of Dr. Pepper when you're out. So when the hell am I gonna get to drink Dr. Pepper?
Then you decide that you don't want keep trying to drink from the crazy straw anymore. But everyone around you is drinking from the crazy straw, and some people are taking HUGE gulps from the crazy straw. But you try to explain to people that the crazy straw ain't for you anymore, you wanna drink from the regular straw and just enjoy your drink. Who cares about what straw you're drinking from?!
Life's a bitch, then you die before you can finish your Dr. Pepper.
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2 comments:
Interesting... I think I know what you're trying to say here. In fact, I'm pretty sure I REALLY know what you're saying. haha
So, blogs aren't really conductive to good communication b/t friends. Here's my email address. Please use it :)
captainfrizz@gmail.com
stream of consciousness, gotta love it. and the shit on the carpet part reminds me (I'm not sure whether you intended it) of the Big Lebowski. you know, it really tied the room together!
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