Im not here

Ok, so im gonna try out a new feature tonight, i am going to chronologically go through this evening, up to and including the times as i write this. Fucking confused? You bet! So, in layman's (stupid people's) terms, im gonna tell a story from back in time up to currently. Does this seem like how i normally tell stories, just much more confusing? Great, cause thats where i want you to be. Now hold on.

So, my day actually begins yesterday. After a great day off, sitting around, doing minimal cleaning, and looking for celebrity porn, i start drinking with my roomate late in the evening. We do our normal routine for weeknight drinking, which is; properly finish our intended day's tasks (or, at least lie about it, and say you had) and patted ourselves on the back on a job well done as we speed-drink bottes of crappy wine. this goes on much longer than it should have, as i will be forced to wake up very early in the morning in
"THE LONGEST DAY EVER!"
"The story begins on a youngish man, about 21 with thinning hair, as he slowly prys himself from the cold sheets, wearily ready to brave the rapidly dropping weather conditions of the day to keepe world safe for yet another day of american freedom-itude. As he guides himself into his work clothes, he silently curses the fates that lain that he must work a grueling 12-hour shift at his occupation, which was the honored position of keeping america's fat bellies fat. Flash forward a many-numbered amount of hours, when the beaten youngish man with bad hair returns home. He sits with a parchment and goose-feather, recounting the ways of his days. His ass hurts very badly."

So, i sit around at work today, starting at an unheard-of 10 in the morning. The only time i'm up at 10 is if my crappy body chooses to begin rejecting the toxins i've ingested, drunk, or smoked during the day. Seriously, I would never be up that early if left to my own devices. The morning holds nothing for me.
except Mcdonalds breakfast, which is the only way i could justify attending work at that hour. I have a transcendant opinion of Mickey D's in the morning that you could be bored with my telling, or just understand id stab my sister for an egg mcmuffin any day, if offered.
I have coffee, which i never do. Coffee is for posers who can't afford good drugs. But over the course of the day to keep from nodding off, i drink 7 cups of coffee. Holy fucking shit. I should never have done this. I have a horrible way of dealing with caffeine. I get all jittery and angry, and wound up for no good reason. After bouncing off the walls for 14 hours, i head home and sit around, eat a whole lot of leftovers, and drink a lot of beer quickly. Completely alone. Awesome. What a great way to end a great day. Binge-eating and drinking alone. But, I dont care. somehow, im very happy. It might be chemical. Im just high enough to like the new bob dylan album. (C'mon though, bob. Every other song on it sounds exactly like that one song from that Ipod commercial. Fix this) Im ready for this day to be over, so i can be unproductive and slovenly and enjoy the hell out of my day off tommorow. I think i like my new weekly routine of "Fuck pants" fridays". As in "dude, you gonna wear pants?"
"dude, hell no, pants are for suckers, Fuck pants, i say, Fuck 'em!"
not as in "Spongebob fuckpants" big difference. If you don't believe me, google "Spongebob fuckpants" better yet, google-IMAGE that. Let me know how that goes.

I'll be too busy looking at celebrity porn.

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