I wake up from my typical shack-induced slumber. Ever since I got out of cfan, everything's seemed all repetitive! I've been doin' the usual. Lay down, get up, clean, sit on my couch, lay down and go to sleep, and then do it all again while tha' sun blazes on ya' back and there's nothing you can do 'bout it.
HOW DOES SOMEONE ACTUALLY GO BACK TO NORMAL AFTER MEETIN' SO MANY PEOPLE? MOST PEOPLE WOULD THINK IT'D BE EASY, BUT INSTEAD IT'S THE EQUIVALENT OF SMACKING THE DEVIL'S ASS. Y'DON'T DO IT OFTEN, AND YOU NEVER THINK IT'D HAPPEN UNTIL IT DOES. AND WHEN IT DOES? YOU CAN'T EVER GET ENOUGH OF IT. IT'S LIKE A BEAUTIFUL THING THAT'CHA WANT FOREVA'.
BANG!
...Good Lord. Did anotha' bird make it's way in?
Laying in the middle of the livingroom floor.
OWW OWW FUCK. ARE YOUR FLOORS ALWAYS SO WOOD. AND WHY IS IT SO HOT OUT HERE??????
oh okay sorry
Uhh-huh. I can tell that Blueberry Jammy's walkin' around my shack, and I feel pretty embarrassed 'bout it. I haven't managed to clean the place up yet, so he's probably judgin' my choices in decoration and life. I didn't even expect any visitors! Which... could. Could this be considered breakin' and enterin'?
Either way, what a bothersome bird.
He walks over just to poke me in the forehead.