Midnight Snack
My story and my troubles began with my decision to make a midnight snack. I know what you're thinking. Why the hell would I make a snack at the ungodly hour of midnight? But you see, I was oh so hungry. So there I was sitting in my least favorite chair with my legs crossed in my living room a empty bottle of vodka at my side. I was
watching the shit that they always show on TV at this hour, when screams began coming from my hairy belly. What an ugly sound it was, like a dying cat.
"Food!" the screech said.
"Fine. What would you like?" asked I.
"Sandwich", replied my gut.
"Fine", answered I.
My knees creaked like a rusty door as I lowered my legs and buried my bare unwashed feet in the crusty shag piss stained carpet below my chair. I made my way to the kitchen, lifting, kicking and pushing the junk that had accumulated over the span of the ten years that I had lived in this shit hole apartment. I could say I had been meaning to clean but that would be a lie. I may be a lot of things but I'm no liar. But for all you know that could be a lie. Besides what's the point of cleaning if things are just going to get dirty again? I kicked a small frayed white box sending faded photos of my hated loved ones flying everywhere. As I kept going one of the photos got stuck on my foot. As I peeled it off I saw that is was a photo of my brother. I spat on the photo, threw it aside and kept walking. In my anger over seeing my brothers face I didn't notice the glass bottle of some unknown brown liquid on the floor. I stepped directly on it with both feet crushing it into razor sharp pieces which hid their dirty faces deep within the flesh of my feet. The brown liquid spilled out of the bottle like the blood from my feet and then I fell face first to the hard flowered patterned floor of the kitchen. My nose hit one of the daisys, crunched and became flat like an anvil. Blood spurted out of my nostrils like they were geysers and my face was Yellowstone. Blood went in my mouth, my eyes and what little hair I had left on my head. The fall must have made quite a bit of noise because the bitch who lives in the room below me began to bang on her ceiling. Usually I would respond to this with a hearty "fuck you bitch" but between the two pounds of glass in my feet and my new noise job I didn't feel up to it. Instead I opened my mouth and let out a water fall of various types of alcohol that had been marinating in my stomach acid. I was clinging on to consciousness but to no avail. I was going to blackout. I was going to drown in the used alcohol my body rejected. All because I wanted a midnight snack.
watching the shit that they always show on TV at this hour, when screams began coming from my hairy belly. What an ugly sound it was, like a dying cat.
"Food!" the screech said.
"Fine. What would you like?" asked I.
"Sandwich", replied my gut.
"Fine", answered I.
My knees creaked like a rusty door as I lowered my legs and buried my bare unwashed feet in the crusty shag piss stained carpet below my chair. I made my way to the kitchen, lifting, kicking and pushing the junk that had accumulated over the span of the ten years that I had lived in this shit hole apartment. I could say I had been meaning to clean but that would be a lie. I may be a lot of things but I'm no liar. But for all you know that could be a lie. Besides what's the point of cleaning if things are just going to get dirty again? I kicked a small frayed white box sending faded photos of my hated loved ones flying everywhere. As I kept going one of the photos got stuck on my foot. As I peeled it off I saw that is was a photo of my brother. I spat on the photo, threw it aside and kept walking. In my anger over seeing my brothers face I didn't notice the glass bottle of some unknown brown liquid on the floor. I stepped directly on it with both feet crushing it into razor sharp pieces which hid their dirty faces deep within the flesh of my feet. The brown liquid spilled out of the bottle like the blood from my feet and then I fell face first to the hard flowered patterned floor of the kitchen. My nose hit one of the daisys, crunched and became flat like an anvil. Blood spurted out of my nostrils like they were geysers and my face was Yellowstone. Blood went in my mouth, my eyes and what little hair I had left on my head. The fall must have made quite a bit of noise because the bitch who lives in the room below me began to bang on her ceiling. Usually I would respond to this with a hearty "fuck you bitch" but between the two pounds of glass in my feet and my new noise job I didn't feel up to it. Instead I opened my mouth and let out a water fall of various types of alcohol that had been marinating in my stomach acid. I was clinging on to consciousness but to no avail. I was going to blackout. I was going to drown in the used alcohol my body rejected. All because I wanted a midnight snack.