So, I’ve got a cheap band-aid wrapped around my thumb. It’s irritating the hell out of me , not only because it’s hard to wash my hands, but it does not seem to be doing its job of stopping the soreness. While you’re reading this, imagine me in mortal pain: the tears, the blood, the guts–oh, dear Lord, someone get an ambulance!
I’m kind of in a pissy mood though. Generally, that doesn’t happen me too much, as I am a pretty optimistic dude–and I almost misspelled optimistic, this is going great–but sometimes you gotta bite the onion and breathe in someone’s face.
That’s a weird image. Don’t do that.
You ever like someone and–
Oh, here the Teenager goes…blah-de-bloo…so sad romance…boo-hoo.
Anyhow, as I was saying, you ever like someone and tell yourself: well, I suppose this is the one, the one I’ll wait for, the one I’ll spend money on, the one I’ll ask to dances, the one I’ll be able to fart around. You know? And then life bitchslaps you and says, You got it wrong, son! It’s snake eyes for you! Then you want to punch life in its happy little face because you’re so angry and depressed and demotivated and tired and hungry and overworked and overpaid and–okay, back on track, I promise.
If you haven’t felt that, go feel it. You’ll think someone dropped a bowling ball on your heart.
What I am pissed about, and I know all are listening with bated breath, is–at last breaking free of that one sided game of Tag, You’re It…but then, sooner than you think, coming right back to it because a stinking piece of hope crept back into your brain and said:
Oh, heeeey, remember that one girl, you know, that one, the one you said you were done with for all eternity, not including loopholes? That one? Thaaaat one?
Yes, but why are you bringing that up again? I was thinking about Rocky Road ice cream.
This is just me, you know, speaking out loud, but, you know, you might, maybe, have a little–a teensy bit, a smidgen, really–chance, or, opportunity, at, well, having a shot with them again? So, sign here on the blue line and seal your life away! Ding-Ding-Ding! We have a winner!
Yeah. That happened to me. It sucks. Know’s what worse? It’s still happening.
And, for the holy, high school, almost a graduate, life of me, I can not get the thought out of my head. I think God took a bottle of Gorilla Glue, laughed, and lathered it on the back of that puppy before slapping it on my brain. Hey…maybe that’s why I had a headache last week.
Or I ate too much ice cream. I’m a fiend for it.
Sorry, God, you can go back to shopping at the Hobby Lobby in Heaven.
Oh, girls, or boys, if you’re a girl reading this post, they can make you soooo–
Oh, ah! Brain Freeze! God, come back–quit fantasizing over coupons!