This may be an all nighter

What do you do? Oh me, I do nothing.

There are times when being an insomniac is a good thing like when you have something important to get finished. There are times like this where you stare at a computer screen for hours on end looking up Rob Zombie pics because you think you can actually squeeze you’re fat ass into those tight pants for one night on Halloween. Maybe the metal chicks will want to fuck you? It’s times like these where you begin to wonder why you bother trying to sleep in the first place. Without a few shots of whiskey you are worthless in the slumber department. You honestly begin to believe you will be one of those people, those people you see on the Discovery channel, one of those that stay awake for months on end and eventually die of exhaustion. Death from exhaustion hasn’t happened since the 1876 when that shit still mattered. Then your ex-girlfriend sees that you’re awake through the magic of the internet and proceeds to bitch about you’re new fuck tube when really you wish you had nothing to do with either of them. At this point in time you’re better off alone. “Sleep comes easier when I’m alone” you lie to yourself. All the while you’re hoping your incessant typing won’t wake up the lady in the next room. The lady that when awake makes you feel lower than a mite on a flea on a dog’s asshole. You have music playing, nothing too depressing, you don’t want to slip down that road again. You smell your breath and it doesn’t smell like you just brushed your teeth. Nothing to drink in the kitchen. “How can all those liquor bottles be empty” you think. You want a cigarette but you know you shouldn’t. “…but hell doc I gained ten pounds since I quit smoking” you want to yell at the non-existent professional. Maybe the hallucinations are setting in? “Am I Jack’s lonely colon? I am every fucking twat who’s ever quoted Fight Club”. You don’t want anyone to get you wrong, you like the movie Fight Club, you are just pretentious. You think it’s 2:16 AM and you may as well rough out this all nighter. You put on a pot of coffee and think, “This’ll be over soon right?”

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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