I do not have the freedom to make juice in my own house (technically mom’s house). What’s next? A curfew? I know whoever is reading this is going to assume what a piece of shit I am, but I ask you this. What is life without juice, my old friend? What sense does it make to drink tasteless water all day everyday? Life is a fountain of flavors (note that down), and my job as a temporary resident is to swim through the ocean of opportunity, and avoid getting eaten by sharks.
One day, I woke up and it was a Saturday. Does Saturday deserve all the credit for making people happy? Everyone likes Saturday because it’s the day before Sunday. I wish I had something better to talk about.
I drive a spear through Monday’s heart, I do a 300-style walk-and-slash as I wreak havoc on the rest of the weekdays. Good God! I need to sleep more.