Things change the older you get. Like running a yellow light sends shivers up your thirty-something spine while you check all three mirrors for flashing lights.....pussy. Standing up to your boss with 100% validation and then worrying all night about whether you will be able to go back to work the next day....pussy. Caring how you spell the words in texts and emails....p-u-s-s-y.
What happened to living like a rogue and not worrying about the future. Why didn't I name my cat "Coon"? It's funny and a great name for a cat....pussy. Why do I decline shots at the bar instead of welcoming the cold embrace of the porcelain gods as I kneel to say my late night prayers through the furry yellowish-white ring of salvation?....pussy. What the fuck happened to saying fuck in front of any motherfucker in the fucking room and the only fucking time you fucking say fuck is through a stupid fucking keyboard....fucking pussy. Why am I still wearing the same shoes and blue jeans I owned 5 years ago???....pussy. Why do I think watching Ghost Whisperer is the same as going to a titty bar?....pussy. When did going bed early become a priority?....pussy. Good night fellow pussies.
-Army of One
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I think it has something to do with responsibility. I hate that fucking word. What I wouldn't give to go on a cat killing spree or to pull a BB gun out and shoot pidgeons from the window like I did when I was a kid.
ReplyDeleteYou know how many times I just want to punch some fat bastard at work in the throat because he's a douche bag supreme. There are days when I have to talk to these fucking "adults" in my class and I get so annoyed that I want to tell them to go home and gargle with 9mm. I can't...why? Because I'm a pussy and have responsibilities. Oh to be carefree and wild again...