Life goals:
We're sitting on the couch, maybe you're reading, idk. You're doing something. That isn't important. What is important is every time I get up you ask me where I'm going.
Sure, I could just tell you. To the kitchen, to the bathroom, but where's the fun in that?
So, where am I going?
Maybe I hit you with a classic bit of snark.
That's for me to know and you to find out.
Go ahead and call me an a-hole.
I know you are but what am I?
I was brought up in the Pee Wee Herman days so I know how to turn it around.
That's the ol' switcheroo for you. How ya like dem apples?
Ask me where I'm going again and I'll tell you.
Promise.
(Intense uninterrupted stare)
I think to myself damn, she's got pretty eyes, they look a little crazy right now but they're still pretty.
Maybe I contemplate actually telling you where I'm going but I recall the time I asked you where you were going and you said "to pick up the divorce papers."
Okay, that one stung a little. Too far. You're gonna pay for that one.
I am going...
To hell if I don't change my ways.
Go ahead and roll those pretty, slightly psychotic eyes.
You'll hear it everyday for forty years.
Which will in turn distract me from ever amending my aforementioned ways and in fact damn me straight to hell.
Oh well, then you won't have to wonder anymore.
You'll miss me when I'm gone.
You want anything while I'm in the kitchen?
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