Pizza Delivery 11/10/16

Ordered one large pepperoni pie and one 8 piece hot wing.

Reason why delivery was not made: pepper sprayed in the face.

General Manager: Did you save the money?

Me (head under faucet): Yeah, And the pizza too.

Throws wad of $20 one dollar bills at the General Manager.

General Manager: Good job!

Cop: Open your eyes to wash it out. I've been sprayed too. Nothing you can do, but, I mean, at least you got pizza right?

(General Manager walks away and talks to store manager.)

General Manager: It was his fault he almost got robbed. At least he didn't lose any of the money. That's what he gets for not calling the person before he made the delivery.

(General Manager leaves.)

Cop: Did you get her phone number?

Me: Yeah, I called her and she said she was walking up the street and would be at the address in a minute, so I waited in my car until she waved to me and walked up to the front stoop. I got out, walked up to her, which was when she sprayed me, then I ran to my car threw the wings and pizza in the passenger seat and locked the door. Waited a minute as she ran away, then another kid in a black hoodie started walking up the street toward me so I took off and drove back to the store.

Cop: So you drove two miles back with a face full of pepper spray to the store? That's pretty bad ass, but don't do that next time cause you can get charged with reckless driving for putting other people's lives in danger. Dial 911 and wait for the police to arrive. Alright whenever you're ready we will head down to the station and get a statement.

Conclusion:
Was sprayed by a 15 year old girl, who got charged with assault and attempted robbery. Sentencing or name unknown. Restitution: $5. Court parking fees, not covered by the city for two days in court $75.

sucked into a black hole on date night

when you slap my ass

in public i think:

SEXUAL HARRASSMENT

in bold black capital letters.

when you take me to the

new big summer blockbuster in theaters,

and make out with me in the dark,

i hope i have bad breath.

i hope you notice.

i hope my bad breath infects your good breath

because i haven't brushed my teeth in three weeks
and contracted gingivitis

exactly for this very special occasion.

when you tell me,

"i love you,"

i start to peel

strips of skin

off my body

until there

is nothing left

but a smaller skeleton

resting inside a larger one;
you don't even notice.
instead, you just talk about how
bad you want me.

when you get hard

i pretend i'm high on

heroin and crack

so i can get wet

to get through this.

when you're naked

and ask me to strip,

i plan to steal 

your wallet,

and shitty family sedan,

then drive off a cliff 

in the country.

when you're inside me

sweating and moaning,

i want to abort

your cells from my body
in a bloody nebula that
swirls around the water
of the toilet,
and flush
because i have
the ability to both
create and destroy.
and sometimes
creation and destruction
are synonymous.

when you come,
i realize i never
have fun when i'm around
other people.
i realize i am only squirming

because i have to pee

and am in the mood for pizza/chicken wings,
which you mistake for an orgasm.

when you are asleep,
i tell you i'm pregnant,
and ask you to marry me
because i will only marry
someone i don't love
and never will.

deal with it.

fuck literature

I don’t have the time or the mental capacity

to impress you with beautifully arranged words

written by other people

because I have shit to do:

I have pills to take

and I have to go to work

and I have to get out of my parents’ house

and I have to smoke weed

and I have to laugh at paranormal investigators on tv

and I have to exercise by kicking a hacky sack

and I have to masturbate if I randomly get a boner + a bathroom + enough time     

and I have to meet my family for dinner at 7 o’clock

and I have to go to the bars on Friday/Saturday nights because there’s nothing else to do

and I have to dance in the nude after I take a shower because I’m too scared to dance in front of anyone

and I have to sleep

and I have to release a variety of venomous snakes downtown in order for you to stay

and I have to get married to a person that’s kind of my type because you left, which means:

I have to grow up

I have to get a better paying job

I have to move out of my parents’ house and get my master’s

I have to stop talking to certain people

I have to grow apart from certain people

I have to grow facial hair + shave it because I’ve never had a 5 o’clock shadow

I have to buy a dutch colonial with a front + back yard

I have to get my life together by cultivating a human being(s) out of bodily fluids

I have to tell random people my secrets + ask them for advice

I have to go to a psychiatrist to get more pills

I have to take more pills so I can survive being alive

I have to take a shower so I don’t smell bad

I have to pop blackheads in the bathroom mirror

I have to purchase a hot tub

I have to drink light beer out of cans and pass out every night in the hot tub

I have to get depressed

I have to figure out why I bought a muscle car + why our house has a closet solely dedicated to shoes

I have to pretend to kill myself with my index finger because I’m terrible with life-altering decisions

I have to host backyard barbeques for family and friends so they can see + complement the little touches of clever décor (scented candles + miniature knick-knacks of pleasant, golden-brown bears in swimsuits striking poses + tiki torches + summer themed china + plastic drink umbrellas) which were put on display throughout the house by the person who was still kind of my type

I have to watch a tear drop quickly repel down an eighteen year old brunette’s face as she gags on a cock in an amateur porn video (I don’t feel disgusting)

I have to ejaculate with cautious ears because I have a family + they’re sleeping + silence + I would only have 10-15 seconds to cover everything up

I have to buy a new calendar every year because the human being(s) we cultivated grew bigger + he/she/they moved out

I have to prolong my life by eating more vegetables

I have to ingest a lethal strain of e. coli that is playing hide and seek in a fast food salad

I have to have regrets, A LOT of regrets because I’m confused and not happy

I have to die + a funeral + a burial + decomposition.

I have to not exist.

Exactly.

In middle school, there was this program that encouraged/bribed our class to read.

If we read three books in a month, we got a free personal pizza from a national pizza chain.

I read three books a month.

The problem is the program stopped after the 4^th grade.

sorry i'm nervous and don't know what to say or how to start this

Hi.

I write.
This is a place for me to show you what I write.
And for you to read what i write if you want to
 +
have nothing better to do
 +
cure boredom.

I will also post things that I find interesting because it will make me feel better about myself if someone comments on it because I need validation like everyone.

I also work at a deli in a grocery store in pennsylvania.
While I'm working, I think about all the random ways to get accidentally injured at a deli without being at fault. I also smile, slice, weigh, bag, and say, "Have a Great Day!"

It's like selling drugs, except you don't see very many hundred dollar bills
+
you have to put your hands near blades and hot oil
+
no getting high during your shift cause you're selling ham off the bone, american cheese, and bacon lovers turkey, instead drugs.

I graduated college and moved back home a couple of months ago.

I didn't get any sleep today because there was some guy using an electric drill because my parents' have to remodel every square inch of their house. Which means I'm tired.

"Have a Great Day!"