Step Twoish and a third: The Ritual of Mornings.

So, if you accomplish step one and found yourself out of the warmth of the bed, consider yourself a dumb-ass because the next step is daunting, THE RITUAL OF MORNING. Might I add that the morning sacrifice is easier then what's about to happen. Out of bed what are your major concerns? Well, for me being a the mammoth whale that I am, and slack ass of the universe, food and facebook/gmail/cellphone and it's usually in that order. One has to keep up with his weight and peps.

If you happen to be a druggie slacker, your first concern might be getting high through the various means you find possible. I find that drugs screws with my ability to be a somewhat productive member of society, so I leave those things at the parties.

I say this while I snort a line of mystery substance number three off of my laptop and finishing my fourth beer for the day.

Seriously, I don't do drugs.

Bullshit!

No, really I don't.

Accept me!

So for food, I find boiled eggs to be the easiest thing in god's wet dream only seconded by the grill cheese! So I put a pot of water on the stove and dig out the eggs. After completing this, I make a few deposits a my nearest toilet and then through the magic of time the water in the pot that is on the stove is boiling. Yippie! Boiling water is something I find myself ecstatic about because it reminds me of the warmth of the bed. And come on, it's water actually dancing, I wasted some thirty dollars as child to watch a river dance and was disappointed.


Oh good lord, what have I done? I am rambling about boiling water... What am I doing with myself? I actually made that toilet deposit joke that I loathe. What the FUCK?

Anyway, I always sort of rinse the cold eggs from the refrigdator using cold water and then stick them into the pot of boiling water... YAY! dancing water scolding my finger tips!!!

I referred to my friends a peps. I don't know how to feel about this. Not a second blog thing to do I know, but we all have to compromises.

I set the timer for 6 mins, because my slow ass won't get for another four minutes to take the pot off the stove.

Gad DAMMIT! Why am I doing this? If you guys are actually reading this SHIT, god bless you. Bed would be so much better then dealing with this, why am I am up at 7 in the fucking morning?

Yay! Boiled eggs. While the eggs were boiling I was checking my various email accounts because you have to keep up with all backstabbing self-serving assholes you call friends, what a sec? That's me, oh ha ha!

To add creepy points into this, I was probably shit texting a 16 year old ginger girl that's two counties away. It's required that slackers has some sort of vice that makes them really sleasy, mine happens to be flirting with anyone with tits and I mean 'anyone' with tits.

Now's it time to enjoy your eggs with a good book in hand while you get to listen to your step father talk along with Dr. Phil. I sometimes can imagine the book being some sort of blunt weapon that I could beat myself senseless with.

I think I should tag this entry as internet pollution.