Today was a special on Ted Bundy. Yesterday it was Jeffrey Dahmer.
Once every couple days I call up somebody and ask them to do something in an attempt to ward off the ailments of summer time depression. When they offer to keep me company, I backout.
I blame this on my lack of motivation when it come to dressing myself.
When people call me, I backout as well.
I blame this partially on my lack of interest when it comes to putting on something other than holey boxers and stained t shirts and partially on them only wanting rides and to partake in illegal activities.
Whatever happened to swimming and playing tag and hide and go seek and eating hamburgers?
Oh yeah. I became sensitive to chlorine, stopped going outside or participating in anything physical thus acquiring bad asthma, pissed myself when I was eight (or was it nine?) for hiding too long leaving mental scars, and became a vegetarian. Respectively.
Just like last Summer, this one is going to be exceedingly boring and sad. Well, less sad than last Summer because depression is overrated, and anyways, I’m actually a robot so I don’t have feelings. Only little robot ones that can only be expressed in a series of bleeps and bloops.