Valentine's Day

Last night I had the worst sleep. I was so tired when I woke up, I had a lot of things that I needed to do for the day. Looking in the bathroom mirror I saw that one of my eyes was completely bloodshot. For some reason the only thing I could think of to motivate myself was to drive to the fuel station on the outskirts of town and get some fried chicken. 

Arriving at the station, I got an energy drink from the fridge and went up to the counter. Xavier was serving me, he had a pony tail and acne. He asked me if I wanted anything else and I mumbled "three pieces of fried chicken please" pointing at the bain-marie. He couldn't hear me properly and clarified if I wanted five pieces of fried chicken. My mind quickly thought five was a good idea. I drove home at nine o'klock in the morning eating fried chicken and sipping energy drink while listening to Jadakiss' "We gonna make it" My mind thinks back to all my past lovers, I imagine them on Valentine's Day crying silent tears as they think of 'the one who got away'. 

10:44 in Hughesdale

 I was winding down for the night when this annoying repetitive noise started, It was driving me crazy, it sounded like an alarm going off or something. I left my caravan and started searching for the source, I couldn't quite seem to pinpoint where it was coming from. It definitely wasn't inside the house but you could hear it from every side of the house. I could hear it the best from the west side of the house but there was nothing I could see that would be culprit. The noise was drilling my ears. Completely bewildered as to where it came from I stood in the back yard. 

Suddenly, as I looked up in the night sky above our chimney I saw the silhouette of an owl. Could that be what's making this annoying as fuck noise? There's one way to find out I thought and picked up a Tupperware container lying on the lawn and threw it at the owl, it flew away in terror. No more noise, problem solved. 

Anime

My sister was recently turned into a demon and so I have decided to become a demon hunter in order to find a way for her to be restored to human form. I passed the test to become a demon slayer and in doing so I was given a sword capable of cutting demon flesh. These swords change color when grasped and mine turns black when I grasp it which is very unusual. I walk about my life and the people in the street have no idea that behind my cool demeanor, I'm actually a demon slayer. Haven't been laid in months.

When I saw the break of day, I wished that I could fly away

I just remembered that when I was a kid I saw that my dad had bought a Nora Jones CD. I told him that he was gay and he completely spazzed, saying "it's not gay, she's actually really good." 

Every boy wants his dad listening to AC/DC, not singing along to "don't know why" as he hugs himself by candle light. 

That was the day I found out Dad was gay.

Life of a Thug

The neighborhood kids call me an OG, old head and Unc. I wake up every morning and put a zyn in my gums straight away, can't bear one second of this life without nicotine, never could. My breakfast is nicotine and coffee, that's how it should be, making a fuss over breakfast is for ladies. The boys in desert storm never needed an avocado on toast and neither do I. Leaving the house my neighbor 'fancy Dan' tells me he's got hay fever. These days everyone has hay fever, I've probably had hay fever my whole life but never knew it was hay fever because I'm not a fucking pussy. 

Class

Today one of my university class mates was saying that as women there is societal pressure on women to be nice and agreeable and I thought about saying "Geez, you should tell that to my ex". I decided to not say it but that would have been funny I reckon. 

Truth is stranger than fiction

After a busy day spent listening to Chapelle Roan and reading feminist literature I decided to watch a British crime show on the TV. One of the police officers used the colloquialism "trouble and strife" to refer to his wife. Now, I consider myself a sensitive fella and it is 2025, but that's some good slang right there. 

It's a cold world

Day two of the common cold. To put things in perspective I currently have a three liter bottle of Pepsi Max. I don't think cunts know how big a three liter bottle of Pepsi actually is, because outside of the supermarket you don't come into contact with them very often. They are fucking massive. 

Last night I had a hypnagogic mental hallucination caused by my fever. The bed became a spreadsheet of different coordinates. It functioned as an order of different places my body had to make contact with the bed at certain times. In reality I was extremely restless and rocking all over the bed but my fever dream made it seem like I was actually performing a specific task in line with the spreadsheet's demands. I remember thinking that there was no way I could finish the order in time. When I tell you I was cooking brother, I was cooking. I came out of it at 1:30 am and realised that I had completely lost the plot and took two Valium to get my head straight. 

Four seconds from midnight

The year is 2035, the keto flu has officially been added to the Harvard medical dictionary. The doomsday clock is now four seconds from midnight. Paris has become infested with rats. The only people who still live there are failed art curators whose jobs were wiped out in the most recent recession. As rat has become the society's primary source of protein, the curator's new economy centers around rat meat. The curators have devised unique ways of sustainably accumulating rat meat. They have found a way to harvest the meat from a living rat by cutting off specific muscle groups and not others. The particular biological construct of the Parisian rat allows it to regenerate its lost muscle tissue without the loss of its life. There are specialists in the Parisian community known as "Doctors" whose role it is to surgically remove as much rat meat as possible while still leaving it alive. The curators have thus turned 'rat hunting' into 'rat harvesting' and in doing so have made their most valuable contribution to human culture. 

The beach

Inspired by the water retaining customs of the Kalahari bushmen, a share house comprised of only boys decided to conserve bodily fluids by abstaining from wanking during the harsh Australian Summer. Along with water retention, they sought the sharp mental alertness known well by great hunters of the desert. People walking by commented on the atmosphere of imminent danger radiating from the house. Tall weeds established themselves in the front yard and the blinds were constantly drawn. Neighbors never saw the boys anymore and only heard strange calls during the night indicating that the residence remained inhabited. Most curiously, as summer progressed they forgot language, developing a unique form of telepathy; only communicating verbally through clicks and grunting noises akin to their Kalahari muses. Long gone were memories of life before the custom as they descended completely into their own world.

Too hot to be an extra

 I was watching a crime show on the TV today. I knew that one of the characters was going to be important to the plot because she was too hot to be an extra. If I was one of those young fellas with funny instagram names my name could be "too hot to be an extra" or something like that. I don't understand most people these days but I do know one thing, that lady was god damn beautiful.