It's 12:40 at night, and I don't think I'm alright. I was singing about taco's. And thinking about Roco's, plan to rule those cheetos. That I should eat, not doritos. So now I have my gummies, that are in my tummy. And I'm drinking a glass of milk, out of a plastic cup made of silk. I think I'm not alright, since it's 12:42 at night. And I keep losing my train of thought, and the way the days havoc was raught. So I'm lost and I'm a bit crazy, but at least in the end that means I'm not lazy.
What now. O: That little poem. Is all true. I wanted to eat soem cheetos. But my mom ate them. So I'm eating gummies and drinking milk out of a plastic cup while tapping my foot on the ground and blinking a lot.
Zombie Doll` · Sun Oct 23, 2005 @ 06:44am · 4 Comments |