And sometimes I feel like just dropping the faux-eloquence, poring over a thesaurus in order to seem like some kind of intellectual and just being all like,

hey,

it’s not really like this,

I’m just this guy who smokes too much and wishes he wasn’t so shy at parties.

You wish you had a pair of these.

They arrived in the mail yesterday, and they are the best things ever.

I’m sorry, I wanted to say something more meaningful — more eloquent — both nothing comes to mind. They are the best things ever.

After all the stress and adversity of life as of late, the bleak nights and the stark mornings, nothing raises the spirits quite as much as making french toast at 1am.

Here’s to the good times.

:)

Life, such that it is: a conglomeration of supremely wasted time, irradiated eyeballs slowly wasting away staring at imaginary worlds — worlds of Warcraft, indeed — while my corporeal form gradually decays under the malnutritious regime of Pepsi Max, abhorrently-branded “Xtreme” Pringles, and bland microwave ready-meals which provide barely the minimal amount of sustenance in order to avoid untimely death.

So now you can stop wondering.