Thursday, November 17, 2005

Bucket of shit, bucket of spit

I wish I could find the guy that decided that everything needs to be half full and beat him to death with a bucket of positive thoughts.

I now can no longer say my drink is half-empty without ten million people lunging out to tell me that I'm a pessimist.

No shit?

I'm a pessimist?

Who knew.

The next person who corrects me when I say my glass is half empty I'm going to say to them, "Oh yeah? Well your mom is half-full. From my cock. Wait. I mean all full. All filled up. To the brim."

Shit.

I'm no good with insults.