So young, so naive, and full of hope. The memories of my youth fade like dreams from a shallow sleep, as I awake to a fresh nightmare each day. There are two pieces of advice that have been bestowed upon me from every elder that I've ever been around for extended periods of time, during a tete-a-tete. Number one, "Don't ever get married.". Check, and check. Number two, "Never grow old.". A little trickier, unless you have stem cells available to suck down like never ending fountain drinks at a fast-food restaurant. As I descend into the rotting pit of middle age, I can't help but to wonder how it all went wrong. By this time, it was supposed to be pancakes and waffles every day for breakfast, served by big tittied bitches. They were to pour my syrup upon their breasts, and let it trickle onto my morning meal, much like Salt Bae. Alas, I have no syrup maidens on this day. I imagine most of you reading this feel the exact same way. Sitting in traffic each morning to get to a place that you hate, so you can earn money to pay for a residence that you never truly own, and fill it with a bunch of useless shit that you don't really need, to try and fill that gaping hole inside of yourselves where love and purpose are supposed to reside. All I really want to do is get about 100 packets of Fun Dip, pour it out into one huge mound like Scarface, put three Lik-A-Stix between my fingers on each hand, make two tight fists, and attack that colorful sugar like Wolverine during his berserker rage. Is that too much to fucking ask?? This grown-up shit can suck a hobo's dick cheese.
