"working on my faults and cracks..."


If I had a Brazillion dollars...

...I'd have a huge ass headache.

Tonight I sleep on my own bed. Drink my own canned coffee, use my own sissy shampoo, bang on my own sweaty keyboard, and wash my own [adjective deleted] underwear. Five days in Kyushu with 30 Brazilian and American students, and I think I need my head examined.
I threw open my apartment door and set my bags down, then immediately passed out on the floor--awakened by rolling nightmares to type this blurb; nightmares where I counted spinning heads, and banged on doors through endless hotel hallways.
The trip was punctuated by insubordinate amounts of unbalanced room assigning, viking buffet dining, incessant whining, and uncomfortable seat reclining.

I think I'd make a poor leader. Like, the douchebag who rolls his eyes whenever you bitch about the food, or the bus, or the beds, or the public nudity, or any other dumb shit that's completely beyond his control. Not much unlike this photograph actually. Reminds me of that time when mom told me not to make weird faces, otherwise my face would get permanently stuck that way. Meh, wish I'd have listened.

Cripes, I'm exhausted.
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