I literally have no time to do this today. I've got to get cleaned up, pay my phone bill, get my ass to Bloomfield so I can grab a few hours sleep on a couch before having to be at the studio at 3. We're recording drums and bass today. Then I have a show to play at 8 so this blog isn't very high on my list of shit to get done right now. I think I can squeeze a quick one in, though. Here it is.
Okay! All done! Now here's your story that I'm going to make up on the spot.
So, uh... once was a man who knocked over an open milk carton during breakfast. The moment he saw the cow juice hit the table and start flowing in all directions, he couldn't stop crying. He was totally inconsolable. He was a fucking wreck.
He went into the other room to collect himself. Slowly, the tears stopped coming, his heart slowed, and his breathing became regular again. "Okay, now back to the kitchen to clean up that milk!" he shouts.
He enters the kitchen and OH MY DEAR GOD! THERE IT IS! WHYYYYY!!!! WHY MILK?! WHY YOU DO THIS?!?! And he's back on the ground weeping.
He cried and cried and cried. Then he cried some more. He cried all day and into the evening.
At 6 his wife came home from work. She threw off her coat and cradled his head in her big, soft bosom. Then she asked him what was wrong. He told her. She let out a heavy sigh.
She walked into the kitchen, grabbed some paper towels and wiped up the mess. She got a sponge and some cleaner, and scrubbed the area clean. Afterward, she sprayed air freshener to clear out the stank.
She walked back into the other room. Looked the love of her life right in his eyes. Kissed him once softly and said, "Honey, I want a divorce."
That's it. I hope you enjoyed it. I know I enjoy this time we spend with me in your mind. Goodbye.