I can't help but feel responsible.
Shit, I was suppose to write songs for the big get-together with Mr A. on Saturday. You know the one where I bought cinnamon buns for? Yeah, that one. I haven't written shit. I went out with my friends. I though it might help get the creative juices flowing. Or at least that's how I rationalized it. Fuck! What am I gonna do gang? Can someone write me a song and send it to me? Fuck, I don't know if I can do this. I have a hard time writing serious material. Everytime I put pen to paper I'm just dying to write about goofy things. Keywords that I grab on to are "buttocks" and "love". Here's an example....
UT-hem...
"...this ain't easy love, it's big fat buttocks butter love..."
I don't think he'll like it.
Shit.
OK, I seriously gotta lose some weight.
This gawdamn job has put more weight on me.
I gained 19 miserable pounds since the little time I've been here. We all pork up, it's disgusting. Them 19 lbs went straight to me gut too. My matabalism has slowed down in my old age. I used to be a real lanky guy. I still have the same frame but with this big gut. Like a snake that just swallowed a gerbal. I'd probably go running if there wasn't 153 feet of snow outside. Today I saw 3 high school kids running today in shorts during a snowstorm. I SHIT YOU NOT! I felt like running the little pissants over.
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