"When you will probably get a decent job, a goddamn wi-fi router installed in this house, sorry, this shed you live in, and if you'd stop paying prostitues instead of masturbating, we might be in a situation in wich I, can quit my job and buy myself a goddamn microwave oven, in a color i like, not a campfire in the middle of the fucking room. And for your information, next time you rent a car, remember to give it back to the man who gave it to 'ya, not giving it to a goddamn hooker!. And by the way, we are out of milk"
Ghaah! Darn, that was one hell of a nightmare. Out of milk?
Waking up after being hit in the head by reality, or yet still, the alarm clock is still there, and yes, you will probably die soon. Anyways, i might as well get up, change, probably eat something if i remember where i left the fridge last night, and find a way to get out of this mess. No, i don't even need to fill you in, this place really is a mess. A high pressure tank of argon gas? First of all why? Then, why is it doing in my room? And lastly, how did it get there in the first place?. Ok, let's stick to the ideea that some things are better left unanswered, might as well buy a video surveillance system to see what i do the next time i hit myself with some sort of unknown designer drug. Gasoline works, though.
Enough with this. I hop out of my bed, trying to ignore the puddle of... something right under my feet (not that i am really meaning this, because i am curious, but let me repeat myself -unanswered- and probably in this case, it's for the best). Great, ignoring the puddle, i am on a quest to find a sink or water source of some description, to wash my face of.. wait, what is this? Fuck it, i'll just imagine it's some sort of Aloe Vera infused facecream, I mean, at least it smells like one, although the color keeps surprising and raising more questions then answers. I know it's my face, but i don't know what this is. Let me rule a few out: sand (what do facecream and sand have in common? nothing, so it can't be), human slime (i hope i am as right as i can, because the more i think about this, the more it bothers my self-esteem), and me (it can't be me on my face, because the logic dictates that i have a face, and the face does not have me - conclusions conclusions...). I have a feeling this 'is getting deep, so let's move on. Ah yes, my sink. White, clean, with a faucet right on top of it, just like sinks should look like (why do i have the impression that something is going to happen?)
So i washed my delicate hands with warm, fuzzy water (i ran out of soap, so i had to imagine something that would soothe my pain), and i went in the kitchen to make myself some food. Ah yes, and i found my fridge, it was sitting outside, taking a sunbath near the creek (but i recovered it, praised it, and convinced it to come back to my house, because i would open it... it it it). But it was empty. Oh well, i might as well starve to death, it would be a place to start from. Whatever, i went to my closet, picked out some 70's clothes (i am not that big of a fashion fanatic myself but, those are the only clothing items in there). What would i do now? Where would i go?
