I think it’s easier to paint a picture of the career I almost have, than to belittle this page with imagery and cliché’s about how hard I work. But I can’t draw for shit so…
I’m in my own world 90 percent of the day. The other 10 percent I’m dancing in my underwear to Katy Perry with my blinds wide open.
I kissed a girl and
I liked it was ehh’ about it.
I say inappropriate things on stage for money, and write satirical stories about life. Oddly enough, I’m happy. I smile so much it hurts.
On weekdays I’m somewhere touring this ridiculous nation, Idaho, Washington, Texas, Florida, you name the place, and I guarantee you I’ve kissed a baby like a Presidential Candidate there. I live for the days on the road. There is no better feeling than being permanently banned from a historical monument.
I guess I’m rolling out my own red carpet.
Well, more like an acid wash carpet with a few beer stains and a handful of glitter.
This is what freedom feels like.
Come take a ride in my imaginary gold Camaro. We can air-hump for hours. I’m saving up for a pussy wagon…