It's 8am. I'm forced to watch the Bayern game, dear diary, instead of Real's thumping of Espanyol. They are another team based out of Barcelona, but I don't hate them, my love. With my cable, I don't have the channel that shows most of Real's games; plus Bayern is behind in this game, so you know it'll be interesting. Yesterday I popped in some place to have a torta—you bet I did!—and I saw the Real Madrid banner. I asked them if they showed all their games here as I was ordering, and I was talking to the owner, and he said, "Are you kidding? You're looking at a die hard fan." Bayern's up 2-1, I'm fuming cause it makes me think of Germany. Then he looked around and announced, "This guy's a true fan, too," and I started blushing and I went in to hug him but he pushed me away. And then I told him from now on, I'm going to come in here, pay you for a burrito, and watch the games here, and he agreed, and I tried to hug him again and he pushed me away. Then this morning, I woke up, the game had already started, and I was drowsy, and I said fuck him and his burrito—I was so tired, o diary! He's not paying for my gas, and I was so tired...
Now I have to go back to work, because when I was detoxing I thought I was dying, so I didn't need money anymore and God was showing me what was going to happen to my legacy after I had gone, and all the attention I'd be getting! Hmm, if there was only a way I could fake my own death...
See, I was confused, because they say before you pass your life flashes before your eyes, but life after I pass was flashing before my eyes as I was in the dressing room at YMCA. And I tried to tell the ambulance that, but they thought I was just a tweeker. I told them about my quack doctor and how he spoke to me through a computer and I was in an empty room and that was like the twilight zone.
I feel like smiling and saying hi to everyone I come across today.
lol, I thought I was dying, so I was quick to turn my fb pic into a metaphorical tomb. fuckin' me
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