January 24, 2018: Hey, Do You Think Brad Wilk Has A Beard That Smells Like Milk?

Yeah, I know it doesn't makes sense, but making every title both rhyme and actually be relevant to the topic is fucking hard...

Hey, what's pooping?

So here I am again in this sitting area of which I don't know the name of. Outside at six in the morning. Getting my ass whipped by the wind.

I feel really cold. It's the same fucking temperature as yesterday, and I have more clothes on, yet somehow it feels way colder. 

Georgia weather, how I long to understand your ways.

I'm listening to "The Return" by Killswitch Engage. I feel like listening to music might distract me and make this process take unnecessarily long but #YOLO. 

Consider this me covering for the fact that I just used slang no one has said in at least five years...

© Sony Music Entertainment

I'm struggling to find a balance between writing a personal journal and trying to be funny for the blog. Which I have not visited for three days. I'm kind of ashamed that I missed posting for three whole days but the past is as valuable as spilled milk. No use crying over it.

"Goddamn, that was the last bit of Mayfield's in the fridge!"

© Shutterstock

I'm surprised I got up on time time this morning. I decided to take a nap at 7:00 last night and set an alarm for 45 minutes so I wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night.  Apparently my tablet didn't much like that I decided to take said nap on top of it and refused to wake me up. So I wound up choking myself awake (it happens) a whole two hours later. And my first reaction was "What time is it? What the fuck happened to the alarm?"

© Sony Entertainment

And then I reached under my pillow and found my tablet under it. (I don't know why I put it under there. When I'm sleepy I'm reasonably unreasonable.) But to be honest I probably wouldn't have woken up anyway.

Good times.

Despite all of that I slept pretty good. I had a dope ass dream. Me and two very famous female rappers that I won't name did some very nice things that I won't detail. 

I don't know why or how my brain came up with that dream, but if I could high-five that SOB I would. Because when I'm old and can't tell the shit I really did from dreams I've had, I'll be the happiest old man in the nursing home thinking of this.Who the fuck am I kidding there's no way in hell I'm going to live long enough to be in a nursing home.

Anyways, I got other things to today, like neglect my schoolwork.

Peace the fuck out.