Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long a

s I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long a

s I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as

. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine. Like, as long as I’m comfortable on my computer, it’s fine.

One time, Rob and I went to a frat party; one time for the one time. Strange is strange. [WRITER’S NOTE: I DON’T THINK IT’S A GOOD TIME IN MY LIFE TO LISTEN TO We’re Worried About You]. We sat there just observing from the frat house balcony. We could’ve taken the whole whole, whatever. It was everything a Craigslist alley sale entails. Like, elk heads and a vase, tapestry and afghans, candles and books — binders, printers, a 1998 computer monitor. Everything for sale but nothing really worth paying for, yet you gotta drive this shit there, so Earth rot a nuclear core cell within the basement. He-Man and Socrates LOLOLO… Who invited you to this party? Dial up Internet. Capitalization. :) Got ‘em.

Ooof, they’re watching us drive. Like, I haven’t paid a camera ticket in almost a year. And I totaled that car at 35% — my fault. Pretty sure Subaru has a camera in our newly leased car watching us. Even cops got cameras on ‘em, still talking like their bosses ain’t listening. Who has time to perv this video anyway, though? I tell Brandon that I’ll vote for him in the upcoming election if he gives me a discount on my auto and apartment rates. But really, adulthood is about credit, yah? The accrued. A word I should never learn to spell. Tim doesn’t mind the tin. Let’s aluminum the siding. Play the game. What do you do that’s illegal? Tell me your taboos. Eh, they good words to read, though, yah?

It’s been a rough year, y’all. Y’all know what I mean too, because if y’all got the internet, why ain’t y’all millionaires already? Y’all should have y’ALL the money! Stress apps based on human frame-rates. Personal stress rates. Your phone reads the smell, density, and consistency of your sweat. Notification: it’s only the battery dying. Like a sword out the other end of yourself. Recycling on Mondays only, but the stench should be part of some personal compost. There’s something physical in the offering, and a notion to take it. Do you take this entity? Because in your HS Yearbook, it says over and over again in blue, black, red, lead, pink-green, and green ink: We’re Worried About You. COCAINEJESUS is the resurrection. A truly hidden angle. “Hey, you ain’t got no shoes on! You need shoes? I got extra.”

Underground Illuminati. There are no more thoughts, ya? It’s all LOL. And I cut my gut upon thee. Ate all the beans, beef, and rotted meat. It’s all slipping out of me like a greasy fire. Played like the gutted. An organ to breathe. Marque. Being played the fool. Respect at the end of all. Because infiltration is just another exploitation. The soundtrack to my nightmares is We’re Worried About You.