My Drunken Self is Enough


Yuuuuppppp, I even love Blake Guildaphish’s unfinished sketches.

I liked the feelings.

Not enough to turn them into anything, but enough to recognize that they’re present.

Y’all love to turn shit into shit that never needed to actually be.

He’s a nice guy. We’re at a lame party. We’re having a conversation about too many topics, with ease. Yes. Hey Arnold was light years ahead of its time. Yes, every cartoon afterwards was frighteningly deep and not really age appropriate.

Yes, every variation of ‘The Real Housewives Of….’ Is annoying and other than creating trouble for the amusement of viewers who have never created a thing in their damn lies, I’m unsure these woman have any talent that one could put on a business card.

His laugh sounds like a hiss. I laugh too, but mostly because his laugh sounds like a hiss.

No one thing in particular is funny, everything is.

This wine is pretty good for the price.

He’s good at cards. But I talk smack every time he isn’t. I just learned how to play this game. The shuffle is definitely in my favor this round, and maybe the following and perhaps the one after.


Myself is pretty enough right now. But I just like the feelings.

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