Well, I made it. Survived the next world war— who knew I had it in me? Dodged the chaos, the fire, the total collapse of civilization,
By Wolf Lancasterabout a year ago in Poets
So, here I am, famous rock star, living the dream— except the dream’s happening on a planet with exactly one person on it.
So, they lost my mail-in ballot. Of course they did. Because why not? It’s like the post office took one look at my envelope and thought,
My pager’s blowing up—like, literally. It’s buzzing like it’s got a personal vendetta against me. What year is this again?
Inside jobs, outside jobs— what’s the deal with jobs anyway? Inside, you’ve got the cushy life, right? Air conditioning, swivel chairs,
There’s Tito, belting out tunes like his life depends on it. Every note’s a little too high, but he’s giving it everything he’s got—
Oh no. What is happening? One minute I’m fine, just standing here, minding my own business, and the next— whoosh—a sudden flash flood…
So, the government gave me a black SUV. Yeah, just handed me the keys, like, “Congrats, you’re in!” No paperwork, no fine print—
Ah, golfing, a beautiful day, blue skies, green grass, no worries— just me, my clubs, and the endless possibilities of getting that little white ball
I never thought love would look like this— us, sitting here at candlelight, but instead of wine and roses, we’re carving into… a schnauzer?!
Oh no, here it comes… That slow, creeping pressure, like a balloon inflating inside me, but not the kind you bring to a party.
Well, this is awkward. One minute I’m sipping tea, thinking about laundry, the next, boom—instant apocalypse. There goes my weekend plans,
