Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Eleven Minutes of Nothing

This is what a blog would look like if I only had eleven minute to write one.  There would be a lot of jumbled thoughts because there’d be no time to think of a theme.

You:  You think of a theme before you write.
Me:  Fuck you.

Also, I’ll likely curse more.  Because this shit is just pouring out of my mouth.  Like vomit.  But not as liquidy (“liquidy” is apprently not a word).

I stared at the wall for a bit…now I have 2 less minutes to write randomly.

You:  You’re typing, not writing.
Me:  Have fun driving home tonight, asshole.

Now I only have 3 minutes left to write because I went outside and cut your breaks.

Today, I bought a bottled water from the vending machine (I left mine at home in the fridge).  And the claw that grabs the water missed and it fell to the bottom where you can’t reach it.  I was mad and went to another machine and bought a water.  $2.00 for water because of the first mishap.  This sucked because I was going to go to the Rite Aid (the best kind of AIDS) but their water is $1.59.  I save almost half a buck by not leaving the building.  But now I’m out a whole buck!  Just when I am about to scream the machine kicks out 4 quarters.  What?  I have no idea how that happen, but I took that shit and ran.

Great!  I just wrote for 3 fucking minutes about water. 

What a waste.

And now I’m thirsty.

1 comment:

Ron said...

You spelled brakes wrong!