Truth hurts.

Phone’s dead.
Internet’s down.
Car’s a smokin’.
Toaster’s fucked.
Computer’s fried like eggs.
The television went for a shit
and never came back.
Girlfriend’s not working
        -she’s limp and unresponsive.
The drapes are ripped (you’re welcome).
The goldfish are floating upside down
        –and I don’t even own goldfish.
The cats are scheming and duplicitous.
The light bulbs have flashed-out and now they’re gone.
        -Yeah, all of them.
        -Yeah, all at once.

The neighbours are out on their front lawn
wearing cow costumes again,
barking at passing cars.

Stompin’ Tom is dead.
Somebody ate all the meatloaf.

My stomach has rotted out to Hell.
I’m almost forty so I’m fucked
and the bottle’s starting to win.
There’s a deranged monkey on my back.
It keeps winking at me
like some sort of damned pervert.
I answer the phone
        -it’s a dick-punch from…

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