hold on to your seats. you're in for a bumpy ride...
k, like i was saying: some would say it's late. and i'd say i'm bored. so that's when, after getting off the phone with my compadre, i set out to make me-self some nachos, ala' me... as in, "these are the nachos that i'll make for my dinner, seeing as after i've already offered to make them for others and been turned down, i'm all content and ready to pig-out".
yeah, so after reading another all-consuming pressure cooker of a college letter, i go downstairs. no one is looking for me online, so i think i'm in the clear. go back upstairs. mom is on the phone. i think i'm helping everyone out by taking care of myself, here. look ma, shake and bake..and no one had to help. all by myself. but i'm thrown a few madman looks like i'm a wandering vagabon that's happlessly staggered into some stranger's kitchen, helping myself to whatever raw hamburger meat or frying pans i see fitting.
so basically, i'm thrown - and insulted - out of the kitchen. welp. that's that, huh?
find myself back at the computer. i could be doing something constructive with my time, here. maybe reading, maybe sleeping, or maybe even rummaging through my homework, which is piled a mile high, i might add. no, no. none of that will do. i mean, maybe i'll fiddle around with my uh...fiddle, later. but that's later. so yeah.
whatya know? a band of rapscallions. brothers and his friends have arrived. well, that's cool. fine. they're a good group. now, they file in, fill up the whole downstairs. we exchange a few jokes. things are looking up.
that's when mom makes her way down the stairs with the nachos that i was initially going to prepare, myself...in case you've forgotten, by now. oh, and before i can digress from the computer and make-off like a bandit with this huge pan of nachos, to dwell in my own heaven...the others decide to help themselves to this meal. yes. now, notice, i - all modesty aside for once - will give you the coat of my back, fifty dollars - if i so have it - or my own dinner, even, if you even so much as lift an eyebrow or glance my way. but this. not sure what it is. maybe...i dunno. maybe it's the fact that they're watching - no blasting is a more appropriate word - me myself & irene. a subconscious level. not sure. sometimes, i wonder...
i guess today's moral is:
back away from the nachos...
