OK so this might be a little fucked up, but the only way I was able to resist my craving for some of those
goddamned cheddar biscuits and some popcorn shrimp at Red Lobster the other day was to remember that 1) My politics forbid it, now more than ever (their CEO is one of those fucknuts who threw stompy hissyfits and vowed to cut workers' hours
so they wouldn't have to give them health benefits under Obamacare), and but also and more importantly 2) If I happened to choose to go there on the day the next public shoot-em-up mass murder happens and this time it's in that particular Red Lobster, well, even if I ain't one of the victims per se, I'll be
found out, I'll be revealed as one who lets her weak, base physical cravings override her politics, the spineless fraud.
This post brought to you by insomnia. And commas.
Labels: and if'n I drop I reckon I'll be in motion, balls o'clock a.m., caffeine - cocaine - what's the diff, christ on toast points -- politics, cryin' amazacrazy, demoralizing confessions
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