smells like teen spirit

i'm drinking a Blue Moon & eating Flaming Hot Cheetos.

stop me if i get too wild for you.

i'm getting too wild for myself. excuse me for a second.


ah, yes, plain Ruffles potato chips are much more tame.

where were we?

i'm starting to like the sound of my own writing voice entirely too much. i used to write all the time when i was a teenager. of course when i was a teenager i popped a lot of pills & drank loads of cheap beer. now i'm much more boring.

i work for the man. i have a kid. i have bills, debt.

while other almost 23 year olds are bar hopping, i'm changing diapers. while most almost 23 year olds are just waking up at noon on a Saturday, i'm hoping my son will go down for his nap without a fight.

i know it might seem like i'm bitter but i'm not. i'm not bitter because when some of my peers do decide to have kids, my son will be older. while they're just experiencing sleepless nights, my son is already past that. he's already potty trained & feeding himself. i'll be 40 when my son graduates high school. so it has it's positives as well.

the chips are gone. the Blue Moon is less than half gone.

i really don't like this shit. but i can't let perfectly  good beer go to waste. there are college kids somewhere right now drinking PBR or Natty Ice or some other abomination.

when i was in high school i drank Colt 45. it was cheap & the gas station around the corner from my friend's house didn't card. if we couldn't afford the 45, we just stole her dad's Miller Lite. see...shitty beer.

once, when i was17. i didn't sleep for a month straight. i was mentally unhinged & severely depressed but my writing was great. i've known ever since then that i have to suffer to produce. happiness does nothing for my art.

the Blue Moon is gone.

too bad i have a child now. the rest of that 6 pack would go great with a Vicodin.

but, alas, i'm going to bed.