I'm thinking this is madness...this whole alarm clock thing...this whole 9 to 5 thing...the only way to break it is to make it...so screw it, it's go time!
I originally wanted fame to marry Alicia Silverstone way back when. Now, it's simply to meet Jon Gosselin and punch him in the face. Don't know the guy or give 2 shits about the show. He just has a face that's begging to be punched. And I don't even like to hit people...often.
Going for a walk...taking my son and all the voices in my head...sounds cool, right? But try asking yourself a question and getting 6 different answers...7 or 8 if I say it out loud and you count the boy.
Is it too much to ask for a plate of grilled chicken to fall from the sky and land on my lap? The last time I asked for this, my son clogged the toilet and didn't bother to tell me. I was instead "blessed" with dirty toilet water leaking from the ceiling above...as if God Himself was crapping on my life.
A good friend once said that if I could make a woman laugh, I was half-way to sleeping with them. At first, I though it was cool because it meant I almost slept with everyone I ever met...then it disturbed me for the very same reason. I have since stopped telling jokes at family reunions.
I believe multiple
personality disorders exist for a reason. It might only take 2 to cover
up being an asshole or a shitty childhood, but 8 to keep a serial killer at
bay. And what if a pyschiatrist works them down to the wrong one?
Talk about awkward. "Doctor, our son was never a funny
pirate...he's an accountant and kind of a prick."