I woke up the next morning with a horrible headache. I figured it was just the herpes I got a couple months ago from that rabid squirrel I found in my house. "Oh well" I thought before starting my daily routine. I rolled out from underneath the dirty, crumpled newspapers I used as blankets and scratched my blonde, matted hair. Something wasn't right. I looked over to my balls. Micheal Phelps the football was missing. "DAMN YOU TERRY" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Terry looked smug. I didn't like that. I would have to get rid of terry later. After I screamed at Terry's incompetence for a couple more hours I stood up and pulled on the chancletas my mom threw at me when I tried to get into my old house. Next, I put on my tattered lab coat, MC hammer pants and wizard hat. I know, I know, it's no wonder everone stares at me on the street. My sense of style is completely unrivaled. My boyfriend, George Washington the goodwill cardboard cutout said that it was the perfect aesthetic. And if George Washington said it was true then it had to be, because as we all know "he cannot tell a lie". I found George at a goodwill Presidents' Day sale 3 years after I got kicked out. Sometimes I feel bad when I'm with George because he doesn't know that I am a Cindy Lou Who sexual. It's okay though. I make it work. When George tells me that all clothes are 60% off because he wants some fuq I just imagine Cindy Lou is saying it. George is a good man I just don't know if he can take the heartbreak. I am such a hottie after all. After putting on my clothes I cup some water from a nearby puddle in my hands and splash my face. My mom always told me that the flesh eating bacteria in those puddles will clean my disgusting pores. I locked around to make sure my balls weren't fighting and then I did a 180 and stepped on to the grass leading up to the freeway on top of my bridge.
