...the damnable misery of the whole thing is… I’ve gone cross-eyed, already I can’t remember.
It’s awful silly that it works like that don’t you think? There one minute gone the next. It’s like a seven-year-olds silly game, like we’re playing a simple Nintendo game where the kid just keeps whacking away at the buttons and regardless of your skill at the game, no matter what trick you manage to finagle from your sleeve, the little bastard still kicks your ass.
Well, all I really want anyway is some french toast. Oh yeah, with strawberry syrup, lots of bacon, oh and scrambled eggs with tons of cheese… Sorry about that. It’s true though, you know, the quickest way to a mans heart? Yeah, it’s through his stomach. His Mr. Peepers? Hey, I’m telling you ladies, if you want a man to pop the big question, he’s going to expect the sex, but a woman who can perform miracles in the kitchen, or bring him a roast beef sandwich out of the blue, you’ll be the one who starts enjoying the sweaty dance most, he’ll start being a lot more giving in the romper room. And if he doesn’t, find yourself another fish, this one’s a selfish bastard. Words of wisdom? Certainly not. If you’re considering takeing advice from me, you've got much bigger problems then trying to get some Shmuck to marry you. And yes, I don’t care who he is, or what your ‘mother’ thinks of him, he’s a Shmuck.
Well there, I’ve gone rambling. Hey, stay with me, it’ll happen again. I’ve always got so much to talk about in my head, I get here and kablooey, like some turd burglar just snuck in on me in the shower and flicked off the light. I hate that; or when other people talk, yeah, I hate that too. Well, most people anyway. Silence truly is golden. Except when people are supposed to be talking (which sadly does happen from time to time), then it sucks. It’s at that point that people start to move around like they have to pee, or they’ve been standing around for a really long time, that’s kind of funny. Still, I hold strong, people talking-that sucks.
