Time

Time moves by so slowly when you're bored. It crawls like maple syrup down a wall, and slowly drives you insane. You try to fill up your time with inane acts like counting to a thousand or seeing how long you can hold your breath but nothing is long enough to keep you entertained and your mind off the intense aching boredom that you're suffering from. I'm bored right now and I've been at work for 13 minutes. That's ridiculous. It's so true though. Ridiculous and true. Am I even spelling that word right? Okay, I fixed it. There isn't an e in that word. Gargle gargle gargle huff huff huff!

I'm in Love with Pajamas

Oh pajamas, how sweet you are
you keep me comfortable when I'm in my car
I wear you all day I wear you all night
I'll never let you out of my sight
you're soft to the touch and easy to wear
you're way better than just underwear
you make me warm when I am cold
it's tacky to wear you so I am told
I'll wear you to walmart
I'll wear you to the mall
pajamas baby we can do it all
I love you deeply is all I can say
When you come in purple you look kinda gay
it's easy to see why I love you so
excuse me now but I have to go

Things That Are Nice

It's nice when you sit on your ass at work long enough that your ass goes numb and it doesn't hurt anymore.
It's nice when you get a drink from the bar and you realize the bartender accidentally put too much vodka in your vodka sour.
It's nice when you go to the bathroom after driving home 4 hours.
It's nice when you think you're gonna get punched in the face and someone gives you a piece of pie instead.
It's nice when strangers let you cut in line.
It's nice when you don't have to wear those god awful shoes anymore.
It's nice when you make a joke and somebody laughs.
It's nice when you blink too hard and your contact almost falls out but it doesn't.
It's nice when the president farts at the podium.
These are nice things.

Post Number One

This is my first post. It is the most important of posts because I'm posting it and I say that it's important. I'm fairly sure I have nothing to talk about but I'm at work right now so I'm gonna say something anyway. I have seven hours of work left to go. It's ten minutes to ten. I am better than most people who only have one arm. Let me tell you a story about myself. I used to write poetry. I don't anymore, but my poetry blog is still up here. I'm bipolar. Also, I'm ambidextrious. I don't think that counts as a story really. It's more a jumble of facts. Sorry.