You finished the last drop of Mountain Dew at the outskirts of your suburb. Sweat is dripping down your face, and your stylish t-shirt is dripping wet. You sit under a crabapple tree to take a break and admire how hard you've worked. Halfway there by now, you think before squinting down the road to see how far you've come. You can still see your house.
GAME OVER YOU FAT ASS. GOD DAMN YOU ARE FAT
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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