In the light of my incredibly healthy holiday so far, I decided to compose a poem of what I have been doing. I am so clever it's insane. It's actually insane. Holy shit, guys. I am so fucking smart.
I should write an entire post in sarcasm. That would be fucking great. So I will continue that from now on.
Anyway, the poem is hither.
And I call it:
"The life of a ballerina.
You sit
on your arse.
Painting a picture
with your posture
You are getting fat my friend.
Because you move.
Never.
Nor make any attempt to.
You swine.
---
I am that swine."
I bet that fucking blew your god damn mind.
It's like my poetry changed me, even though I was the one writing it. I can't imagine what it would do to other people. It's like I was transported into an alternative dimension, holding my breath whilst also trying to remember all the numbers in pi. FUCK I'm deep. Like a lake, made of a sinkhole. A lakehole! ...Or a sinklake. But that wasn't as good. ..Sinke! Slake... S.. Nevermind.
God-fucking-damn.
It's like I should just blow my god damn head off for being such a genius.
That's how you get famous, you know.
And fame is all that matters. I mean, God, I am so worthless for not being famous. Everyone who's not famous is fucking worthless.
Gossip is the fucking shit.
Gawd.
OK enough with the sarcasm.
I've got nothing interesting to say, so I will stop now.
KTHXBYE!