Notes To Self #621 – Scraps.

Dear Self,

Yes. Your PTSD has officially destroyed you and left your “Life” in shambles. Everyone with whom you have had even the most casual of interaction with anytime within the passed few years thinks you’re either:

  1. Extraordinarily functioning for an insane person;
  2. A kidnapper who has somehow managed to hold your roommate for ransom while waiting on payment for him all these years;
  3. Deeply wounded;
  4. Deeply dangerous;
  5. or just flat-out pathetic.

Self,

Yes. You have at last worn your current wetsuit for the last time – stop being so damned cheap…(?)

Yes. That sensation you have been experiencing whenever your mind touches upon the Opportunist is DISGUST, I am almost decidedly certain of this.

4276898c6223f20e1de35a40845d92b7No. Your feet do not shrink as you get older. No, and that’s the dumbest thing anyone has ever told you and expected you to believe – find that person and put your (not shrinking with age) foot up an ass for such nonsense.

Self,

there’s something really “off” about “boneless” chicken…the very label BONELESS CHICKEN itself implies some sort of nightmarish science experiment at Foster Farms, headed up by MacGuyver, himself…bone in from now on, but you knew that.

6 thoughts on “Notes To Self #621 – Scraps.

  1. kat says:

    i am picturing a gelatinous blob, much like the blobfish, which is a boneless chicken. it is hard to get them to procreate, tho.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ned's Blog says:

    The term “boneless chicken” should be reserved for insults, not food.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. neighsayer says:

    I like your scraps. “Bone in,” LOL

    Liked by 1 person

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