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I Hate Mondays
When I see fluffy white clouds I can't help but to think of
angels. And when I think
about angels I think about white feathery wings, which reminds me of
doves. Doves of course
remind me of birds and birds remind me of emus.
Emus remind me of dumb animals which reminds me of lemmings which
remind me of city traffic. That
reminds me of irrate drivers yelling words to others that I shouldn't
repeat and a semi-truck with the bumper sticker 'Guns don't kill people,
I do.' on it, which reminds me of crazy Uncle John with his shot gun and
why he was sent to an asylum all those years ago.
Then I think about blank white walls which reminds of Chemistry
class which reminds me of when we first met, which reminds me of you
dumping me like the lieing piece of shit you are.
You fucking little moron, how dare you fucking stand me up just
to go out with some fake breasted, fake nosed trash whore!
I hate your guts, I wish your heart was impaled with a butter
knife, your eyelids cut out with a rusty pair of scissors and have
bamboo shoots shoved under your nails then be trampled by a rampaging
herd of circus elephants!
God I hate Mondays.
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