As I Roll Out of My Hammock

I awake to a cold chill that runs down my spine. As I roll out of my hammock, all I can say is “oh, fuck you.” I forgot to wear my hoodie and sweatpants. If you think I’m saying fuck you to you, then fuck you too. Most sincerely. I walk into the next room, I pick up a newport and I light it. I open this pizza box and I eat the last luke-warm slice. An ash falls down on my lap. It doesn’t burn through. I smile and I think, “Bono sucks, it’s a beautiful day.” The sun is not up yet because the sun is a lazy sack. I put on some Propagandhi, and I get into the grind of nothing. Fuck you. The music starts beasting and seems to justify my pissy mood. I go online, check wordpress, twitter, I’m cynical as fuck and so everything I read is fucking stupid. Thank god I don’t have facebook, or my fuck yous would need a multiplication table. 

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