The Shattered Prayer

Brittany Spears on my back porch, and I’m giving her relationship advice. Now see… this is the stuff that I do not want to remember.

I’ve noticed too, that insomnia is self-perpetuating. Once you start experiencing the difficulty sleeping, you start to fear going to sleep, because you’re afraid you’ll have difficulty sleeping. And you’re right of course. Mostly I just lay in bed last night thinking, I should just get up if I’m not gonna sleep…. nah… too tired. Maybe I’ll wank instead. Nah… too lazy. I could actually try to sleep… nah… I’ll only wake up again….

And when I finally do get to sleep, there’s Brittany waiting for me. And some Christian guy. A Christian guy with whom I decide to have sex. And he decides he wants to mess with the condoms so that I’ll get pregnant. We end up having a conversation that ends with me screaming “I hate God!” over and over while pounding the Christian guy’s head into the floor.

He runs for it.

Okay, I’ll admit. I’m kinda glad I remembered that one.

I really do think I’m going to try the polyphasics. What better time than when you can’t sleep?

Mojo pointed out the link to the Wiccan lottery winner. Maybe I should make a deal with the gods like this guy did. But if I win the lottery, I don’t want to spend my fuckin’ time teaching for fuck’s sake. If I win the lottery, we’re all going to Tahiti. And we aren’t coming back.

Maybe my deal should be with Satan instead. Hey Satan, if you allow me to win the lottery, I’ll spend the rest of my life in sin and drunken debauch. I promise.

Now there’s a promise I can keep.

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